Both Nick and Austin said they were happy to help with the show if that’s what Jeff wanted. They both corroborated Jeff’s account of his whereabouts the night before Amanda was reported missing. More interestingly, though, both Nick and Austin agreed that when they were in Jeff’s room that night, after a little too much to drink, Jeff had said he wasn’t certain that Amanda was the right woman for him. On the other hand, they both construed the comment as harmless, typical of a groom just two nights before the big day.
If nothing else, Laurie thought, Brett would certainly be happy about the prospect of having two successful, eligible bachelors on the show. Her boss believed that some viewers would only watch shows about wealthy people and their problems.
“So is that everyone?” Grace asked, peering over Jerry’s shoulder. Other men might be uncomfortable with Grace’s ample and barely covered bosom next to their right ear, but Jerry and Grace were like siblings.
Jerry had added Nick and Austin to the list he’d been compiling on his notepad. He read the names aloud to make sure they were all on the same page. “Sandra, of course. And I’ve spoken to her ex-husband, Walter. He’s on board, too, but I can tell he thinks we’re tilting at windmills.”
“Did he say why?” Laurie asked.
“I got the impression he just wants to keep believing that his daughter might be okay.” Laurie nodded. As much as she had come to depend on Jerry, she was not quite ready to rely entirely on his “impression,” even though this time she thought he was probably right.
She could not believe how seamlessly this installment was falling into place. Despite having met Sandra for the first time only a few days ago, they had the cooperation of everyone they needed. And so far, everyone had been able to adjust their schedules to go to Palm Beach.
“Is the video ready?” she asked Jerry.
The Grand Victoria had sent a zip file containing all of the hotel’s surveillance from the wedding party’s stay at the resort. Shortly after Jerry clicked on play, Laurie saw a beautiful young woman in a sleeveless floral sundress walking quickly through a tiled alcove lined with orange blossoms.
“We can go back to this one later,” Laurie said. “Let’s look at the footage from the lobby on Thursday night.”
Jerry moved the video forward until he came across three women who stood clustered outside the elevators of the hotel. By now, Laurie was able to identify them as Amanda, Charlotte, and Meghan. She reached for the mouse and clicked on pause. The date stamp read 10:55 P.M.
“Where’s Kate?” she asked.
Not surprisingly, Jerry knew the answer. “She told police that she turned in earlier than the other girls. Everyone else was still single and used to staying up late. But by then, Kate was married with a toddler who wasn’t a good sleeper and couldn’t keep up with the rest of the crowd.”
Laurie jotted down a note on her pad and clicked on play again. The next few moments were the footage that had been played constantly on the news in the days following Amanda’s disappearance.
All three women stepped into the elevator, but then Amanda walked out just before the doors closed. She was no longer in the sundress. She had changed into a blue dress and high-heeled wedge sandals. Laurie clicked on pause again. “This is where she said she lost something?” she asked.
“Yes,” Jerry said. “Questioned separately, Charlotte and Meghan were entirely consistent about that. It was very sudden, like the thought just came to her. ‘I forgot something’ was the exact quote they both provided. At the time, they thought it might just be that she had left something in the lounge where they were having the after-dinner drink, but she had left so quickly they hadn’t had time to ask her.”
“But no one from the lounge remembers her going back to it?”
Jerry shook his head. “She just disappeared. But one theory is that she made up ‘forgetting something’ as a reason to go find Jeff. Some people think that the two of them had been fighting that weekend.”
“Who are the some people who believe this theory?” Laurie asked.
Grace reached for a manila folder on the table and handed it to her. She opened it to find printouts from the Palm Beach Post. The byline on all of the articles was “by Janice Carpenter.” As she flipped through the pages, Grace explained.
“Janice Carpenter was the Southern Florida reporter who did the most digging into Amanda’s disappearance. According to her, she received an anonymous tip that Jeff and Amanda had been bickering all weekend at the hotel.”
“One anonymous tip? Even with legitimate sources, reporters should have two before going to print.”
“I don’t think she’s en route to any Pulitzers,” Grace said. “She’s more of a tabloid writer.”
The three of them sat at Laurie’s conference table for the next four hours, watching much more video than Laurie had anticipated. Jerry had managed to set up the screen to play four views at once. The hotel certainly had been diligent about saving everything that might be relevant, Laurie thought.
She started fiddling with her phone, answering texts and emails. They were playing footage from earlier in the evening, before dinner. The hotel was still busy. Amanda was still safe. Laurie found herself putting her phone down as something registered in her peripheral vision.
“Wait,” she cried out. “Rewind.”
Jerry reached over and did as instructed.
“That’s Amanda again,” she exclaimed. She recognized the sundress. Amanda was in the courtyard where most of the hotel’s shops were located. She paused at a window for a few seconds, appearing to admire an outfit, and then continued to walk.
“That’s definitely her,” Grace said.
“This is hours before she was last seen exiting the elevator,” Jerry said.
“I know, but play it again.” Jerry went back a few minutes and then clicked play.
This time, Laurie took the mouse from him, waited, and then clicked pause. “See, right there.” She pointed to a grainy image that appeared to be a man and then replayed the last few seconds one more time.
The man approached from the right side of the screen toward the left. He passed Amanda, who had paused at the shop window, her back toward the camera. Just as she disappeared into the right edge of the screen, the man pivoted ninety degrees and walked away from the shop windows. A moment before he was out of view of the camera, barely perceptible, he turned again. He passed the shop window and kept walking.
“Did you see it?” Laurie asked. “He was heading in Amanda’s direction.”
“He’s following her,” Grace said.
They replayed the few seconds one more time. “Or maybe he went back to his room for some reason,” Jerry said.
“He’s carrying something.” Laurie slid the video back again and then paused on the grainy image. “Can you zoom in on it?”
Jerry tried, but the resolution turned to mush. “It’s a purse or something,” Grace said. The man had a strap across his chest, attached to a small case resting on his hip.
“Looks like a camera,” Jerry said.
Laurie squinted, as if that might help. Jerry could be right. It looked like a camera case. “That looks like a professional camera,” she said. “Five years ago, most people were already using their phones for taking pictures. Do we know who their wedding photographer was yet?” She thought about her own wedding to Greg. The photographer had been there for the rehearsal dinner. She could imagine Amanda’s family asking for a few candid shots of the bridal party during their pre-wedding festivities.
Jerry effortlessly reached for a binder on the table and then flipped it open to a tabbed section. His organizational abilities were one of the many reasons he was such a key contributor to the success of the show. “The photographer’s name is Ray Walker. He was questioned by the police-everyone who had anything to do with the wedding was.” Jerry’s eyes skimmed the report, but Laurie could tell that he already knew the contents. “He was indeed at the property Thursday afternoon to take candid pictures of the wedding party enjoying themselves, but says he left at five o’clock because he had a separate booking for another wedding that night.”