Find Her (Detective D.D. Warren #8)(91)

“Do you know the staff at other nightclubs such as Birches?” Keynes spoke up. In contrast to the manager’s heated voice, his tone was perfectly neutral. The woman’s shoulders relaxed marginally. She conceded to meet his gaze.

“Sure. The industry isn’t as big as you think. The bartender fired from Birches today will most likely be asking me for a job tomorrow, so it’s good to be able to compare notes. Nigel is the head manager at Birches. He’s been quite distraught by the Summers case.” Ethier’s voice grew defensive again. “We try to keep an eye on our customers, you know. Bartenders, staff, the door attendees. Everyone is trained to be aware of who’s had too much to drink, who might need a ride home. Something like the Summers case—it’s bad for all of us.”

“You noticed Flora on Friday night.” Keynes again, voice still calm. “You saw her on the dance floor. You paid attention. As you say, that’s your job.”

Ethier didn’t speak.

“And yet, when your bartender exited the door after her—”

“I didn’t see that!”

“Why not?”

“It was two A.M. Closing. There were a million things going on. I wasn’t even out front anymore. I was in the back, working on receipts.”

“What about cameras?” D.D. spoke up. “From your back office, surely you can watch live video streams from the dance floor, bar area, entrances and exits. Standard operating procedure for most clubs.”

The manager flushed, said nothing.

“You do have cameras?” D.D. pressed.

“Of course! But I checked for the first detective who stopped by. The, uh, the cameras weren’t working that night.”

“What do you mean, weren’t working?”

“They were turned off. Shortly before closing.”

“And who did that?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean—”

“Ms. Ethier.” Keynes again, working his Zen voice. “Is this the first time the cameras had been turned off?”

The woman shook her head. She looked either guilty or distraught, D.D. couldn’t decide which.

Keynes continued on: “How many times before? And who would have access?”

“I started noticing it around a year ago. A night here, a night there. Except the past few months . . .” Ethier took a deep breath. She glanced at Keynes, as if pleading for understanding. “I was beginning to have suspicions.”

“Suspicions of what?”

“It was too often. Too regularly. I should’ve reported it to HQ, maybe installed a lock on the closet containing the security system. I had my suspicions, maybe drug deals or theft. But not kidnapping. You have to believe me. Not . . . assault, not that. But yes, someone was tampering with our system, I . . . I did know that.”

“You’re a good manager, aren’t you, Ms. Ethier? You can’t see everything, as you said. But you try. So you noticed, you have been noticing, something with your staff was off.”

“Ever since Natalie . . .”

“What about Natalie?”

D.D. let Keynes take over the questioning. Because he’d roped the manager in now. She was making direct eye contact, staring right at him. And D.D. could already tell, what the manager had fed them the first time around regarding Natalie Draga had been the party line. Now, finally, they were honing in on the truth.

“Employees come and go. That’s true. And they don’t always leave forwarding information. But to not pick up a check . . . Who doesn’t pick up a paycheck? And I suspected that she and Devon had a thing. Not my business. But again, if she was with him, all the more reason to stay, you know.”

Keynes nodded.

“But she didn’t come in. Left work one day, never showed up again. And Devon . . . he wasn’t sad. Wasn’t distraught. If they had a thing and she suddenly split town, shouldn’t he have been upset?”

Keynes nodded again.

“But he wasn’t. If anything . . . he seemed cheerful.”

“You wondered about Devon Goulding,” Keynes said.

“There was nothing I could do,” the manager expelled in a rush. “I never saw anything wrong, heard him say anything inappropriate. But just . . . his moods, these flashes of rage. I don’t know. Devon . . . Devon didn’t seem like Devon anymore. He seemed darker.”

And that hurt her, D.D. filled in the blanks. Because at one time, Ethier had felt as if she knew him well, intimately. She’d been involved with him, whether she was willing to admit it or not.

“Did Devon have access to the security system?” Keynes asked gently.

“Yes.”

“You believe he was the one who turned it off Friday night.”

Ethier looked at D.D. She exhaled, a confession of sorts. “Yes.”

“You noticed my daughter Friday night,” Rosa spoke up abruptly. “You said you saw her dancing. But you’ve also said you can’t track everything. So why did you watch my daughter?”

Ethier flushed. “The way she was dancing, she was calling attention to herself. But also . . . she seemed alone.”

“You worried about her,” Rosa provided.

Again, that faint hesitation. “I checked in on her. I wanted to make sure she was all right.”