“I can’t discuss it now. It’s an ongoing investigation, and we are making a call for any witnesses to come forward. Please contact the Coconut County Sheriff’s Department.”
“Witnesses to what?” Paris never took no for an answer.
I gave her a look and stepped out of frame. We knocked on the neighbor’s door, but there was no answer.
Across the hall, footsteps padded down the foyer a moment after I knocked. A woman’s voice filtered through. “Who is it?”
I flashed my badge to the peephole. “Coconut County. There was an incident across the hall. Have you seen anyone unusual in the building?”
She pulled open the door with concerned brown eyes that darted between the two of us. With long sandy-blonde hair and a petite figure, she was easy on the eyes. “Incident? What kind of incident?”
“Have you seen anyone unusual come or go from Sydney’s apartment last night?”
6
"Idon't know. I don't think so," the stunning beauty said. Her face scrunched as she thought about it. "You know, when I came home last night, there was this guy who got on the elevator when I got off. I don't know if that means anything."
"What time did you get home last night?" I asked.
She shrugged. "I think it was around 1:00 AM."
"Where were you coming from?"
"Oyster Avenue. I met a girlfriend for drinks."
"Do you remember what the guy looked like?"
She frowned and shook her head. "Sorry, I don’t. I may or may not have been a little tipsy," she said coyly.
I gave Christy a card and told her to get in touch if she remembered anything else.
JD and I kept banging on neighboring doors, talking to anyone available. Then we moved to the east wing, hoping to catch someone who had witnessed something.
We left cards on the doors of people who didn't answer. The people we did talk to hadn’t seen anything.
We regrouped with the sheriff back in the apartment. He told us we could find Judy Hollister at Preston's house in Palm Haven. It was an exclusive neighborhood with custom homes. A fitting place for a multibillionaire. Unfortunately for Preston, he didn't have much time left to enjoy his riches. The picture of health just a few months ago, Preston Hollister had gone downhill fast. At 79, the notable philanthropist had gone from skydiving to bedridden. It was a painful reminder to enjoy the good times while they lasted. Never take a moment for granted.
In the lobby, we talked to the concierge.
“Is there any security footage?” I asked.
“We took out the cameras a while ago,” she said. “Residents felt like they were intrusive.”
“What about the staff?”
“The door guy and the valet are on site until midnight during the week, and 3:00 AM on the weekends. There is keyless access both at the front door and the garage entrance.”
“Were you on shift last night?”
“I work 10:00 AM to 7:00 PM, Monday through Friday. I oversee maintenance, resident services, and leasing.”
“How secure is the building?”
“Anyone with a fob or passcode can enter. It’s about as secure as that type of system can be. Residents can buzz in guests as well.”
It wouldn’t be that hard to slip in unnoticed.
I gave her a card and thanked her for the information. Then we talked to the door guy.
