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  The header on the first page read Order of Protection. It was filed by Patricia Ann Munson and Lucas Munson, Petitioners, against Jeremy Carroll, Respondent. In the first paragraph, the court concluded that Carroll had caused the petitioners to suffer “substantial emotional damage or distress” by harassing them repeatedly with “no legitimate purpose.” The court order prohibited Carroll from being within 840 feet of the Munsons or intentionally contacting or communicating with them by any method whatsoever.

  “This is a stalking order,” Laurie said, continuing to flip through the pages. “Why eight hundred and forty feet? That seems like a strange number.”

  “The Munsons were his next-door neighbors. My guess is that was the number of feet from his front door to their property. The court can’t force him to move from his home.”

  The next document was an affidavit from Lucas Munson, swearing to the allegations that formed the basis of the stalking order.

  “Whoa,” Laurie said, “he sounds like a complete nut. No wonder some of the photography clients complained he couldn’t respect boundaries.”

  She read quickly through the court papers. According to the Munsons, who were in their sixties, they initially appreciated Carroll’s attempts to be neighborly. He would help them carry in the groceries and eventually began bringing them fresh vegetables from the farmers’ market on weekends. But then they noticed his curtains moving when they were mowing the lawn or sitting on their back deck enjoying a cocktail at sunset. Twice, Lucas was certain that he had seen a camera lens between the parted drapes.

  When Lucas asked Jeremy whether he had been photographing them, he went inside and returned to the front porch with an album full of pictures. Patricia pruning her rosebushes. Lucas firing up the barbecue in the backyard. The two of them watching television on the sofa, visible through the living room window. Lucas was so stunned, he didn’t know what to say and just left. Jeremy apparently took the lack of a negative response as approval and began leaving photographs of them on their front porch for them every Saturday, a small collection of what they thought were private moments. The final straw that led the Munsons to seek the protective order was when Jeremy started calling the Munsons “Ma” and “Pa.” When Lucas mustered up the courage to ask why, Jeremy’s only explanation was “I’m estranged from my biological parents.”

  When she was finished reading, Leo handed Laurie a printout of a very different kind of photograph, a mug shot. The man was holding a sign that read “Jeremy Carroll,” followed by his date of birth and the date of his arrest, five months ago. Laurie could tell from the height chart on the wall behind the suspect that Jeremy was five-foot-ten. He had thinning brown hair and pale, chubby cheeks. His shoulders slumped.

  “This could definitely be the man I saw turn and follow Amanda on the surveillance tape,” she said excitedly. “I see he was convicted of violating the order.”

  “It was a relatively minor violation. He left a framed photograph of a roseate spoonbill in their mailbox, along with a note apologizing for what he called a ‘misunderstanding.’ ”

  “A roseate spoonbill? What the heck is that?”

  “A bird. Sort of looks like a pelican. They’re cute.”

  “I won’t ask how you knew that.”

  “Timmy Googled it.”

  “You don’t even want to know the things I was imagining. A picture of a live bird? That doesn’t sound so creepy.”

  “Not in isolation. That’s the whole point of stalking laws. Context matters. It really scared the Munsons. The judge wasn’t cutting Jeremy any slack. He found him in contempt and sentenced him to two years of probation with an extension of the stalking order. He warned him that one more violation and he’d be in jail.”

  “Dad, if this Jeremy guy thought he’d found surrogate parents in his next-door neighbors, what kind of relationship did he imagine with a stunning beauty like Amanda?”

  36

  Laurie had been so engrossed in the conversation with Leo that she was almost late for the next filming session. They were interviewing Amanda’s brother, Henry, at the edge of the resort property, next to the ocean. By the time she walked all the way there, the cameras were already situated, and a makeup technician was adding a final dash of powder to Henry’s sunburned cheeks.

  Last night, Laurie had sensed Henry’s discomfort in formal wear. Her intuitions were apparently correct. Today, he wore khaki pants and a short-sleeved camp shirt, and he seemed like an entirely different person than the man she’d met the previous night.

  “Sorry I’m late,” she whispered to Jerry, who was attaching a wireless mic to Henry’s shirt collar.

  “I knew you’d get here in time. You always do.”

  Henry fidgeted in his chair, as though trying to find a comfortable spot. “Do you really think this show might help us find out what happened to Amanda?”

  “No guarantees,” Laurie said, “but our two previous specials certainly paid off.”

  Alex had also opted for a more casual look. Laurie made a mental note that his green polo shirt brought out the color in his blue-green eyes.

  “Is everything okay?” he asked.

  Normally Laurie was the first person to show up on the set. “All good. I hate to throw a curveball at you, but can you be sure to ask Henry about the wedding photographer and his intern, Jeremy Carroll? I’ll explain it all later.”

  • • •

  “Henry,” Alex said once filming began, “can you start by telling us about the last time you saw your sister.”

  “It was right around five o’clock on Thursday. The eight of us—Amanda, Jeff, and the wedding party—had met with the photographer for a few informal shots around the property. When we were finished, we all went back to our rooms for some downtime and to get dressed for dinner.”

  “You joined Jeff and his college friends, Nick and Austin, at eight o’clock, correct?”

  “That’s right. I thought it was sort of silly to split into separate bachelor and bachelorette parties, but I went along for the ride. With Nick and Austin involved, I was dreading some horrible antics involving scantily clad dancers, but Jeff insisted they keep the evening civilized.”

  “Yet you still turned in early for the night.”

  Henry nodded. “We had a newborn at home, so my wife didn’t come. The highlight of my trip was sleeping uninterrupted all night. Besides, I was a bit of a hanger-on with the rest of the boys. The three of them were buddies, but I only knew Jeff. Basically, I was just there as Amanda’s brother.”

  “You mentioned the photographer,” Alex said. “Is that Ray Walker?”

  Henry shrugged. “I don’t remember his name, but he was super-tall. Like, even taller than you, I think.”

  “Do you remember an intern who was with him? His name was Jeremy Carroll.”

  Laurie smiled. Alex had a way of making every question seem like it had suddenly come to him off the top of his head.

  Henry squinted, and then a flash of recognition registered on his face. “Oh yeah, that guy. I do remember him. He was the one who came up with the idea of all of us standing at the edge of the pool, pretending we were about to jump. The tall photographer gave the pictures to my parents afterward as a gift, and that one was my favorite.”

  “How long was the group with the photographers?”

  “About forty minutes.”

  “Did you happen to see them at the hotel after that?”

  “No, but I wasn’t really around. I was in my room until I met the other guys in the lobby a little before eight, and we took the jitney to the Steak and Fin restaurant next to the golf course. I left when they were ordering after-dinner drinks. I went back to my room and called it a night.”

  “You took the jitney?” Alex asked. “Did any of you have rental cars?”

  Laurie was constantly impressed at how nimble Alex was in these interviews. Whether other members of the wedding party had access to cars was another detail that Laurie should have thought of before p
roduction began, but Alex had caught it immediately with one mention of a bus.

  “I didn’t,” Henry said, “and neither did Charlotte. But I know Amanda and Jeff rented a car. She wanted to be able to go shopping on Worth Avenue without bothering with cabs.”

  “Were you ever in the rental car?” Alex asked.

  Henry nodded and then laughed. “Believe it or not, the guys had to take a shopping trip, too. We all managed to forget something—a belt, socks, shaving cream. The four of us drove downtown Wednesday afternoon.”

  “Just to be clear, was this the same car that was missing when Amanda disappeared?”

  “Yes, it was.”

  “Did anyone else in the wedding party have a rental car?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Okay, returning to the subject of the photography intern, did you notice anything unusual about him?”

  “Like what?”

  They always tried not to lead their witnesses, but in a cold case, it was often necessary to refresh a person’s memory.

  “Did he maintain a professional demeanor during your interactions?”

  “Yeah, I’d say so. But, now that you mention it, I remember Kate saying that he was being a little too chummy.”

  “How so?” Alex asked.

  “Nothing striking. More like, he was around our age, especially compared to the head photographer, and seemed interested in hanging out with us, like he was part of the gang or something. I didn’t notice it, but I’m not exactly an expert on social etiquette.”

  “You seem like an upbeat person,” Alex said.

  “I like to think I am.”

  “Is that part of the reason you wanted to go your own way and not work in the family business? I imagine that with siblings trying to run a company together, it could get a bit tense.”

  “I went my own way because I like making wine more than ladies’ ‘foundational garments.’ ” Henry made air quotes with his hands. “I can actually partake in the merchandise.”

  “But you’d agree, wouldn’t you, that there could be some rivalry between your sisters?”

  Laurie could tell that Henry didn’t approve of the question, but in Laurie’s short phone call to him last week, he had alluded twice to the work drama between his sisters. He couldn’t deny it now.

  “All siblings compete for their parents’ affections, and the way to my father’s heart was always his business. And, sure, everyone wants to be respected at work, and my sisters were no different.”

  “But the rivalry didn’t always cut both ways, did it?” Alex asked.

  “Amanda was always more confident than Charlotte.”

  “Is it fair to say that Charlotte could be jealous of Amanda at times?” Alex had slipped into cross-examination mode. He was in complete control.

  “I suppose.”

  “Even angry?”

  “At times.”

  “In fact, didn’t Charlotte resent the fact that your father allowed your sister to open a New York office and expand the company’s operations, even though she expressed doubts about the idea?” Laurie had gleaned that tidbit from Amanda’s former assistant.

  “Yes, she was very upset. But if you’re suggesting that Charlotte hurt our sister, you’re crazy. See? That’s why I didn’t even want to do this stupid show.”

  “We’re not accusing anyone, Henry. We just want to get a better understanding—”

  Henry was pulling off his microphone. “You said I’m an upbeat person? That’s because I call things how I see them, and this is what I see: you’re pointing the finger at everyone Amanda knew and loved, when what you should be doing is tracking down the local creeps. I’m out of here.”

  Alex shrugged once they realized Henry wasn’t coming back. “Sometimes that’s going to happen.”

  Given the nature of her show, Laurie was used to being accused of aiming her suspicions in the wrong direction, but this time, Henry’s words stung. Everyone they had brought here was someone Amanda loved enough to include in her wedding. Most murder victims were killed by someone close to them, but Amanda could have been hurt by someone she never knew before she came to this beautiful place, Laurie thought.

  Maybe that someone was Jeremy Carroll.

  37

  Sitting in the resort’s cocktail lounge, Laurie perused the adventurous options on the list of “signature drinks.” According to the menu, they were all handcrafted by the resort’s in-house mixologist. With the art deco surroundings, she felt like she had stepped into a speakeasy.

  She felt a gentle hand on her shoulder and looked up to see Alex. He gave her a quick kiss. “I hope you haven’t been waiting long.”

  “I just sat down myself. So who won?” Alex and Leo had sneaked off to a nearby sports bar to watch the Yankee game on a big screen. Leo had vowed to stick to the heart-healthy diet he’d been following since having two stents inserted in his right ventricle last year, but Laurie would bet her life that he’d been unable to resist a few chicken wings.

  “The Red Sox,” Alex groaned. “Nine to one, a complete blowout. How was your mother-son dinner?”

  “Excellent. Timmy ate an entire plate of spaghetti and meatballs, as well as half of my lasagna. My little boy has a very big appetite. And he’s still pestering me about getting you to go on that water slide with him.”

  “I’m happy to take him,” Alex said. “We could go early in the morning before we’re shooting for the day.”

  “And ruin that perfect hair?”

  “First Grace, and now you.” He grinned. “As long as you think it’s perfect.”

  A waitress arrived with two glasses of water and a tray of olives. Laurie asked for a vodka martini, and Alex ordered a ginger ale. “Your father and I already knocked back a few. And you don’t want my eyes puffy on camera tomorrow, do you?” He reached across the table and held Laurie’s hand. His hand was warm; it felt good.

  “I, on the other hand, was a teetotaler at dinner. When your date is a nine-year-old, you’re the designated driver. Switching topics,” Laurie said, “is anything Henry said today about the rental car helpful to us?”

  Alex sighed. “Not really. I bumped into Austin a little while ago in the lobby. He confirmed Henry’s story about the four of them using the car to drive downtown. I assume Kate, Charlotte, or Meghan will verify that the women in the bridal party used the car for a shopping trip, too.”

  “I’ll recheck the police report about the search of the rental car,” Laurie said. “Jerry said there was no relevant evidence found there, but I’ll make sure.”

  “I reread it after the interview with Henry.” He took a sip of his drink and chuckled.

  “An older gentleman found the car three days after Amanda’s disappearance and reported it to the police. When the police pressed him on what he was doing behind the abandoned gas station, he admitted he had to relieve himself and was concerned that he wouldn’t make it home.”

  Laurie smiled. “What made him call the police?”

  “He wasn’t going to, but then he spotted a set of keys on the ground near the driver’s-side door. He assumed the car was stolen and abandoned and called 911 when he got home.”

  “Any DNA or fingerprint evidence?” Laurie asked.

  “The police checked for both. They were able to lift prints belonging to Amanda and Jeff from the steering wheel. They crosschecked Amanda’s prints against some personal items from her room. Jeff volunteered his. Both had driven the car, so the results weren’t surprising. The DNA trail also didn’t lead anywhere. All six members of the wedding party had been in the car so finding their DNA wouldn’t tell us anything. And remember, this was a rental car. Even though it would get a quick wipe and vacuuming between uses, it would be loaded with the DNA of previous occupants. The police checked the DNA samples they found against their database of sex offenders but didn’t find any matches.”

  “So the car tells us nothing,” Laurie said.

  “That’s not exactly true,” Ale
x replied. “If they had found blood or clumps of hair, that would have suggested a struggle took place. But they didn’t. And one more thing: The night before the car was found it had rained really hard. Footprints that might have been made by Amanda or anybody who was with her or potential tire tracks from another car would have been washed away.”

  “A dead end,” Laurie sighed.

  “Oh, don’t look now, but we have company, at the bar,” Alex said in a low voice.

  Laurie stole a glance to the front bar. Austin and Nick were drinking what looked like scotch. Their heads turned in sync as a group of young women in cocktail dresses walked by.

  “Looks like they’re on the prowl,” Laurie said.

  “It sure does.”

  “Think they’ll mind if I interrupt? I want to ask them if they remember Jeremy Carroll.”

  “I was thinking about him this afternoon,” Alex said. “I bet the police have never connected him to Amanda.”

  “I’m sure they haven’t. The photographer, Ray Walker, didn’t think of it himself until Jerry called him. It was only after Amanda disappeared that any clients complained about Jeremy. And the neighbors didn’t seek a protective order until last year. There would be no way for the police to realize that Jeremy had been working on Amanda’s wedding photographs.”

  “Have you considered approaching him for the show?”

  “We certainly can’t ignore him. If only there were some way to know if he was the man who turned to follow Amanda in the surveillance photo. Let me see what Nick and Austin remember.”

  “Want me to go with you?” Alex asked, beginning to stand.

  “No, I think you intimidate them. Too much competition for best-looking man at the Grand Victoria.”

  He was smiling as he watched her walk away.

  • • •

  “Ms. Moran,” Nick exclaimed. “Let us get you a drink.” Laurie noticed that Austin did not look happy at the suggestion that she join them. Hers was probably not the kind of female company he was hoping for tonight. “Please call me Laurie, and thank you, but I already have one.” She gestured to Alex, who gave a small hand salute. “I don’t want to interrupt for long, but something’s come up in our investigation. Do you happen to remember a younger man who was working for Jeff and Amanda’s wedding photographer? His name was Jeremy Carroll.”