Page 7 of The Perfect Accomplice

“Apparently another woman was found strangled yesterday morning, also at her Hollywood Hills home. Her name was Sydney Ashe.”

“Doesn’t ring a bell,” Ryan said.

“That’s not surprising,” Parker said. “According to Decker, she was a stay-at-home mom. But you might have heard of her husband, Gabriel Ashe.”

“The producer?” Jamil asked, suddenly animated.

“That’s correct,” Parker answered.

“Who’s Gabriel Ashe?” Beth wanted to know.

“He produced the Stars on Fire films, based on the book series.”

“That sounds familiar,” Jessie said.

"It should," Jamil replied, sounding borderline offended. "It's a highly regarded sci-fi series. There have been ten books, and they've been made into three movies. All of them were hits."

He looked around expectantly.

“Sorry, Jamil,” Beth said apologetically. “You know science fiction isn’t really my thing.”

"Regardless of how well each of us knows these movies," Parker interceded, "apparently many folks do. And the wife of the film's producer being murdered has generated media attention. Now that we have two women of note killed in the same way in the same general neighborhood, Decker said it was a clear case for HSS. And he specifically requested that Detective Hernandez take it, along with our unit's profiler, assuming you feel up to the task, Jessie."

“I do.”

“Great,” Parker said. “He also thought, and I agree, that while you two go to the Podemski crime scene, Jamil and Beth could begin collecting everything that Hollywood Station has on the Ashe murder so that you can hit the ground running.”

“We’re on it,” Jamil said, already punching a request into the system on his keyboard.

“So are we,” Ryan said. “Just give us the Podemski address and we’ll head right over.”

“Good,” Parker said, her own fingers moving quickly through her phone. “I don’t need to tell you two, of all people, that Chief Decker is going to be expecting regular updates.”

Jessie took a sip of coffee to hide the smile playing at her lips. Parker was being diplomatic is using the term “regular updates.” Decker was going to be on her relentlessly, which meant she was going to keep the heat on them. This moment, before they could reasonably be expected to know anything, would probably be the least stressful part of their day.

“We should go now,” she said urgently.

CHAPTER FOUR

Hannah didn’t like how things were going.

As she studied herself in the women’s room of the UC Irvine Student Center, she couldn’t help but notice the dark shadows under her green eyes, which were the same shade as her sister, Jessie’s. No amount of makeup seemed to help.

Despite that hint of distress, she still thought she looked good. At five foot nine, she was only an inch shorter than Jessie. Her blonde hair rested below her shoulders, vibrant and bouncy. Her daily workout routine had replaced the waifishness of high school with lean, sinewy strength. Those green eyes still flashed with confidence that some people claimed bordered on cockiness. But if anyone here at college knew her as well as her sister did, they’d pick up on the signs that something wasn’t quite right.

Yes, she was doing great in her classes. She’d also made several friends, including her new roommate, Eliza, or Lizzie, as she preferred. And generally speaking, she’d avoided any unnecessary conflicts. But even before school started, and especially in the last few weeks, she’d felt a familiar restlessness in her chest. She knew the source of it, and she didn’t like it.

A petite young woman with an oversized backpack almost half her size walked into the restroom and Hannah snapped out of her reverie. She smiled blandly at the girl who returned it before disappearing into a stall. Hannah gave herself one last once-over, then left.

She got into line at the Student Center’s Starbucks to order a coffee she probably didn’t need. She was already amped up for the day. As she waited for her turn, she thought back to the origin point of her edginess. It had really escalated two weeks ago, after she helped Lizzie, who was getting nasty, threatening anonymous letters.

Lizzie knew who Hannah’s profiler older sister was. She also knew that Hannah had worked over the summer at a detective agency and had asked for her help unearthing who was leaving the letters. Hannah eventually uncovered that it was Lizzie’s own roommate, Bellamy. And not wanting her friend to deal with the painful fact that her emotional torturer had slept in the bed across from her for two months, Hannah blackmailed the offending girl into leaving school.

But ever since then, Hannah had retained the bitter aftertaste of the incident. She felt like Bellamy had gotten off easy. Some part of her regretted not making her pay a more substantial price for her cruelty. She’d had more than a few daydreams in which she waited until Bellamy was comfortably ensconced at her new college before sending the school’s newspaper a copy of the recording she’d secretly made of Bellamy confessing to what she’d done.

Of course, that would mean unwanted, embarrassing attention for Lizzie. So Hannah reluctantly began looking for other ways to sate her desire for righteous vengeance against other wrongdoers. It was a dangerous road she had travelled down before, one that led to danger for others, and often herself. She knew she had to get a handle on it before it spiraled out of control again.

“You don’t strike me as the type who needs caffeine to stay alert,” someone said from right behind her, making her jump slightly.

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