Page 22 of The Perfect Accomplice

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Jessie could feel Ryan stiffen beside her, even as her own spine got rigid.

Her husband had already gone at another witness too hard, and she feared he might do the same here too. It was something she expected from hotheaded HSS detective Susannah Valentine, not the head of the unit. But to her surprise, when Ryan spoke, his tone was all cool professionalism.

"Mr. Ashe, I'm Detective Hernanez with the Homicide Special Section Unit of the LAPD. Your wife's case has been reassigned to us, and I'm handling it in conjunction with our profiler, Jessie Hunt."

Hearing that name made Ashe briefly pause as he did a double take looking at Jessie. It was clear that he knew who she was. But when he responded he made no mention of it.

"Does HSS have anything new for me, or is it just more dead ends?" he demanded.

“We’ve only been on the case for a few hours,” Ryan replied calmly, “so we’re just getting our bearings. That’s why we’re here. We were hoping you might have had additional insights in the time since the previous detectives spoke to you yesterday.”

Ashe shook his head angrily.

"Well, I haven't," he snarled. "I told them everything I know. Frankly in the time since I spoke to them I've been trying to plan a funeral in between keeping my kids from finding out the truth about what happened, so they don't have nightmares for the rest of their lives. And that's all happening while I have a movie about to go into production in less than ten days. Everyone involved tells me how sorry they are about what happened, but no one offered to cancel a meeting or sit in for me or delay production. My assistant tells me that that I've got over two dozen flower arrangements in my office. But could the studio shell out a couple of million to push production back a few days? No, they send me a gift basket with apricot jam and think that makes up for my wife getting choked to death right outside our bedroom. Do you know that I slept on the sofa in the game room last night? I couldn't stand to be anywhere near where it happened. So forgive me if I haven't been trying to come up with other 'insights' to make your job easier. What I want to know is why you weren't the ones here yesterday. Isn't the first 24 hours the most important in a murder case? Where the hell have you been?"

Next to her, Jessie heard Ryan take a deep breath before answering. She hoped her husband saw what was clear to her: assuming Ashe was innocent, he was grieving in his own messed up way. She sensed from Ryan’s restraint that he was trying to give the guy a little grace.

"Your wife's murder didn't initially fit the criteria for an HSS case," he explained. "But it does now. This morning, another woman was found strangled not too far from here. We think they may be connected."

That statement was the first to shut Ashe up. He seemed to struggle for words. When he finally did speak, his voice was marginally softer.

“That’s why the profiler is here?” he asked.

They both nodded.

“We want to get to the bottom of this,” Jessie assured him.

“Well, I guess I can’t complain if the great Jessie Hunt is on the case,” he said. “I suppose I should be flattered that we made the cut.”

“That’s one way to look at it,” Ryan muttered, the edge returning to his voice.

Jessie jumped in before it got sharper. “We get that you’re under an incredible amount of stress, Mr. Ashe. And we don’t mean to add to that. But you’re right. The first few hours are crucial. Time is ticking away, not just for your wife and the other woman who was killed, but for possible new ones as well. If this is a serial killer, they might be out looking for their next victim as we speak. So anything you can share, no matter how small it might seem, could be helpful.”

Just then, Ashe's cell phone rang. He looked down at it and then grunted in disgust.

“I don’t have anything for you,” he said. “Leave your card with the nanny and if I think of anything, I’ll call. But unless there’s something else, I’ve got to take this. It’s the head of the studio and somehow I don’t think this is going to be a condolence call.”

He didn’t even wait for a response, instead spinning on his heel, returning to his office and slamming the door so hard that the floor-to-ceiling windows shook. A moment later, someone Jessie assumed was little Cammie started to cry in the distance.

“I should deal with that,” Hayley said.

“We have just a couple more questions,” Jessie told her. “I’m sure Marta can handle things for a few minutes.”

“Okay,” Hayley said resignedly, slumping back on the couch.

“Does he even know your name?” Ryan asked, handing her his business card.

"He does," she answered. "He calls me 'nanny' when he's angry. But when he needs something, it's 'Hayley.' He thinks he's being smooth and charming, but he's not."

Jessie sat back down and leaned forward so that she and Hayley were only a few feet apart. She locked eyes with the young woman. “Before he came out of his office, we were talking about Sydney going to a particular bar, remember?”

“Uh-huh,” Hayley said unenthusiastically.

“And how Gabriel didn’t love her going there?”

“I remember,” Hayley answered, obviously not excited to return to the subject.

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