Upon receiving her directives, Jennifer rose and strode to the kitchen to place a call to Captain Bowen.
Meanwhile, Ethan settled onto the couch, his gaze sweeping over the living room with a critical eye. Then, he gently closed his eyes. Why, he pondered, would the murderer return to the victim's leased chamber post-murder to secret away a receipt in a flowerpot? What was their aim? The absence of any disturbance in the room was notable; the crime hadn't occurred here. The perpetrator had no apparent motive to return to this place for the purpose of destroying evidence, unless there was something in this room that implicated them. Could it be that another had visited the room prior to the police's arrival?
Entertaining these thoughts, Ethan's eyes snapped open. He glanced towards the kitchen, then rose. Procuring a chair from beneath the dining table, he made his way into the kitchen. Standing atop the chair, he scrutinized the narrow space between the top of the kitchen cabinets and the ceiling. His hand brushed against it, finding a thick layer of dust. Jumping down, he returned to the living room, shifting the sofa aside.
Beneath the sofa, he discovered a collection of dust, seeds, and candy wrappers. Jennifer, having concluded her phone call with Captain Bowen, approached, her eyes reflecting her curiosity. "Have you uncovered something?"
"The cleanliness was not Trevor's doing; it was another's," Ethan remarked, a hint of consternation in his voice. "Someone had been tidying this room for Trevor, and just before the arrival of the law enforcement, the room had been meticulously cleaned."
"Could it have been the elder woman you theorized about earlier? Significantly older than Trevor?" Jennifer inquired, a spark of realization in her eyes.
Ethan exchanged a knowing glance with Jennifer before turning his attention to the bookshelf, nodding in agreement. "Quite likely. Observe the bookshelf; certain compartments are devoid of contents. Could they have housed photographs?"
"If she is significantly older than Trevor, she's probably in her forties or fifties, possibly with a family," Jennifer continued, following Ethan's line of reasoning. "Perhaps this woman came here to eradicate any evidence of her liaison with Trevor, to avoid scandal, fearing discovery."
"That remains a distinct possibility," Ethan conceded.
"Consider if it was an illicit affair between them, with Trevor possibly leveraging it," Jennifer proposed excitedly. "The woman, unwilling to sever ties with her husband, might have resorted to desperate measures upon feeling threatened. Or, could it be that the woman's spouse uncovered her clandestine affair with Trevor and, in a surge of fury, ended Trevor's life?"
"It appears you've immersed yourself in quite a few mystery dramas," Ethan remarked, a trace of amusement in his voice. "However, Trevor withdrew cash on April 30th on Avalon Boulevard. It's probable he handed the receipt to the woman who cleaned this room. After Trevor's untimely demise, she must have sensed trouble, fearing entanglement, and came here to erase any trace of her involvement, subsequently organizing the room. This woman likely isn't our murderer, nor does she seem to be affluent."
"But why would Trevor be romantically involved with someone significantly older? Can that genuinely be considered true love?" Jennifer queried, her tone laced with skepticism.
"We're here to unravel the mystery, not to pass judgment on the deceased's romantic inclinations," Ethan said, directing his gaze at Jennifer. "To crack this case, remember, we can hypothesize, but we mustn't let personal biases cloud our investigative judgment."
"Understood," Jennifer responded, extracting her phone. "Should I inform Captain Bowen to concentrate on women in their forties in the surveillance footage?"
"Captain Bowen has already surveyed this scene and likely has formed his hypotheses. He probably suspects that the woman here isn't the murderer, but rather Trevor's paramour," Ethan interjected, preventing Jennifer from making the call. Standing upright, he proposed, "Let's meticulously inspect the room for additional evidence."
"It's time we checked out that fitness center," Ethan declared as he headed towards the door, removing his shoe covers and nonchalantly tucking them into his pocket. Jennifer trailed behind him. Exiting the apartment complex, Jennifer took the driver's seat. In a mere three minutes, they arrived at Sophie Fitness Center. Ascending to the main floor, they located the reception area. Approaching the front desk, Jennifer inquired, "Pardon me, is this a membership card to your establishment?"
"Yes, it belongs to our center," the front desk attendant confirmed.
"I'm interested in a member named Trevor Francis. Did he have a personal trainer here?" Jennifer pursued further.
Upon validating Jennifer's credentials, the attendant accessed the membership database on the computer and informed, "Indeed, Trevor holds an annual membership here. Our members log their visits, and according to our records, he frequented the gym bi-weekly. His last visit was on April 28th. He did request a trainer, named Andy, who is likely in the gym at this moment. I can summon him for you." With that, the attendant reached for the landline phone nearby.
Jennifer approached the front desk with inquiries, while Ethan, seizing the opportunity, purchased a pair of water bottles from a nearby vending machine, offering one to Jennifer. They reconvened in the lobby, a brief wait of two minutes unfolding before Andy emerged.
"That pair there," the receptionist gestured as Andy approached, "they're here to discuss Trevor's circumstances."
"Trevor, my trainee," Andy began, positioning himself in front of Jennifer and Ethan. "I began his coaching in 2019. However, due to the closure of the fitness center for most of 2020, it was only recently, this year, that he resumed his training." His eyes briefly scanned the logbook.
"Does he always train alone?" Jennifer inquired.
"Yes, he's always solo," Andy confirmed. "He typically arrives at the gym around 7 PM and departs close to 8 PM."
Ethan, shifting focus, asked not Andy but the receptionist, "How many annual members are enrolled at your gym?"
"There are well over a thousand, including numerous temporary visitors," Andy replied, taking the initiative to answer on behalf of the receptionist.
"I'd like to review the records of all those who purchased annual memberships this year," Ethan requested, unscrewing his water bottle and taking a sip.
With a nod from Jennifer, the receptionist accessed the computer. Ethan moved to stand behind the desk, peering over as the receptionist pulled up the list of members. He began to scrutinize each entry meticulously.
The membership forms detailed names, ID numbers, contact details, and residential addresses.
Jennifer, continuing her line of questioning, asked Andy, "Did you observe any notable emotional shifts in Trevor during your last interaction?"
After a moment's contemplation, Andy answered, "The final time I saw him, just days ago, though I can't recall the precise date, he seemed his usual self. We exchanged a few words before he headed to the treadmill. He's not much for conversation; his focus is solely on his workout. Despite the presence of several appealing female members, he never engages in conversation, nor does he pay them much heed. I've noticed a few women attempt to initiate dialogue, but he consistently remains detached, indifferent."
"Ethan, still perusing the membership list, inquired, "I see a Hannah Fry listed among your members. Are you familiar with her?"
As Andy peered over the consultation desk at the photograph on the membership form, he knitted his brows in concentration. "The name doesn't ring a bell," he admitted. "I can't recall this woman; it's as if she's never set foot here."
"Her membership records indicate her last visit coincided with Trevor's on April 28th this year," Ethan observed, his tone contemplative. "You remember Trevor but not her? Doesn't that strike you as odd?"
Andy gave the photo on the computer another glance for confirmation before shaking his head. "I genuinely don't remember her. If she were a regular, perhaps her face would be familiar. But as it stands, she either rarely visited or perhaps only did so sporadically."
"Thanks for your time," Ethan said, managing a slight smile. He then captured a photo of the member's details on his phone. Turning to the receptionist, he added, "Your assistance is much appreciated." With that, he moved away from the consultation desk and made his way out of the fitness center.
Jennifer, too, offered a quick apology to the receptionist before swiftly following Ethan. Once outside, she expressed her confusion. "Why did we leave so soon? We haven't uncovered much."
"We've gathered what we came for," Ethan replied, his fingers deftly navigating his phone as they settled into the car.
Jennifer, still puzzled, pressed, "And what would that be?"
Ethan located the photo he'd just taken and handed the phone to Jennifer. "Observe," he instructed. "This Hannah Fry's gym visits often coincide with Trevor's, suggesting they frequently attended the gym simultaneously."
"But with so many members, isn't it common for schedules to overlap?" Jennifer queried, her eyes narrowing slightly.
"True, overlapping schedules are normal," Ethan agreed, inhaling deeply. "However, the fact that the trainer doesn't recognize her despite her regular attendance is curious. Either someone else is using her membership, or she's obtained the card in her name for someone else's use. If it's the latter, why would they use Hannah's identity instead of their own?"
"It's a cover, perhaps to avoid detection," Jennifer realized with sudden clarity. "Could she be the enigmatic lover connected to Trevor?"
With a contemplative expression, Ethan slowly closed his eyes, piecing together the puzzle in his mind. "I've been piecing together Trevor's mystery, and now I think I know who his lover might be," he began. "The ATM withdrawal receipt from Avalon Boulevard was a clue, but Hannah's address just confirmed my suspicions." He glanced briefly at the book in Jennifer's hand.
Jennifer, reading the address, expressed her skepticism. "1012 Avalon Boulevard, Building B, Unit 1802, Sacred Oaks. This seems too convenient, doesn't it?"
Ethan, with his eyes still closed, nodded in agreement. "Exactly. When we visited Trevor's rental earlier, we theorized about his romantic entanglements. The fact that his lover might have visited the room posthumously, leaving that receipt behind, suggests they live near Avalon Boulevard. Checking the gym members, they all reside nearby, but Avalon Boulevard is a significant distance away. A round trip takes nearly two hours. It's unusual. And notably, if I recall correctly, Charles also resided in Sacred Oaks."
"In Building A," Jennifer added, her tone laden with disbelief.
"We won't know until we investigate," Ethan said, opening his eyes and gazing out the window. "If there's a link between Charles, our first victim, and Trevor, it could be pivotal."
"So, do we confront Hannah now?" Jennifer asked, her voice low.
"No, we'll go straight to Charles's wife," Ethan decided, stretching and leaning back. He pulled out his phone, opened his messaging app, and located Nancy's number. He typed a message, asking, "Is your friend Donna still safe?"