Page 17 of The Perfect Prey

He remembered the mix of longing and resentment he felt that first time he laid eyes on her as he watched her pair up with a guy who looked like a male model.It was clear that they were hitting it off in all the ways that mattered.Watching Evelyn with her date tonight had initially created the same churning pit of desire and malice in his gut.

But as she watched the valet pull up in her silver BMW, the feeling settled slightly.She wasn’t going home with her date.The coffeehouse man briefly wondered what the date had said or done to turn her off so quickly.She’d barely been at the table fifteen minutes when she stood up and he’d noticed that she never even took a sip of her drink.

Now, as she handed the valet a tip, she glanced back at the hostess inside the restaurant’s main door and nodded.The hostess nodded back at her before walking over to Evelyn’s date and leaning over to speak to him as she placed something on the table.

As the coffeehouse man hurried to his car, parked on the street in front of the place, he noted that the hostess had put cash down on the table.It occurred to him that Evelyn was paying for the drink she hadn’t sipped and wouldn’t finish.Unfortunately, it took her date a few extra seconds to figure that out.By the time he stood up and started looking around, Evelyn was in her car and pulling away from the curb.

Her date might not be going home with her tonight.But someone would.The coffeehouse man got into his own car and eased into traffic behind Evelyn.He already knew where she lived, but he wanted to follow her anyway.

To him, it was like foreplay.

CHAPTER TEN

Jessie had never been on Rodeo Drive at this hour.

It was almost 7 p.m., and the street was quieter than usual.Other than a couple of restaurants, most of the businesses were closed.There was minimal traffic, and the sidewalks were virtually empty.

Jessie and Susannah were able to park right in front of the shop, which was dark, save for one light in the very back.As they got out of the car, Jessie glanced down the street.Somehow, the glamour of the street was slightly diminished by the darkened signs for nearby stores, Ferragamo, Prada, and Dior for Men.

The sign for Marcel DuBois’s place, Belle of the Ball, was also hidden in shadows.Compared to some of the other shops, the space was tiny.They reached the front door and Susannah rapped on it loudly, just as she would have in any other neighborhood.

Jessie smiled to herself at her partner’s style, which didn’t vary depending on where she was or who she was dealing with.Susannah Valentine was a bit of a loose cannon, but she was a straight shooter, and to Jessie, it was a fair trade-off.

It didn’t take long for a diminutive man in his sixties to appear, shuffling quickly toward them.He was wearing tan slacks, a white dress shirt, and a navy sport coat.He had the wispy remnants of hair atop his head and was deeply, perhaps artificially, tan.

As he got closer, Jessie noted that he looked tired, perhaps from his long flight.But his eyes, though they were tinged with red, were darting around nervously.

“We’re closed,” he said, apparently not willing to give them the benefit of the doubt.

“We’re with the LAPD,” Susannah told him, holding up her badge and ID.“We’re here to discuss your masks, Mr.DuBois.”

The man nodded curtly and unlocked the door.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered for no apparent reason, “I just have to be careful.”

“Why?”Susannah asked bluntly as she stepped inside, “do mask stores get a lot of break-ins by women in their thirties on Sunday nights?”

“My merchandise is quite pricey,” DuBois said huffily, his French accent now more apparent, “and my security guard isn’t here.Forgive me for taking precautions.”

Jessie groaned to herself.Not the best start to an interview.She tried to change the dynamic as best she could.

“Thank you for meeting with us here, Mr.DuBois,” she said, “we know you had a long flight.We just have a few questions for you.The more forthright you are, the quicker we can leave you.”

“Of course, I will be forthright,” he said, still sounding aggrieved.

“That’s great,” Jessie said, losing a bit of patience herself and deciding to use it to her advantage.“I just wanted to be sure because you seem kind of nervous, even after we identified who we are.Why is that?”

“I am not nervous,” he insisted.“I just don’t know what this is regarding.”

“Here’s what it’s regarding,” Susannah said, holding up images of the two masks taken after they’d been removed from the victims’ faces.“These masks belonged to Richard and Cynthia Hartley.What can you tell us about how they got them?”

DuBois peered closely at the masks for several seconds before returning his attention to his interrogators.

“I don’t know the names you mentioned,” he said, “but I think I know the origin of the purchase.May I check my computer?”

They followed him back to his office, passing glassed display cases of masks lining the walls.The back office was tiny, and they had to stand in the doorway while he typed away for a bit.

“As I suspected,” he announced proudly, as if he was Sherlock Holmes about to crack the case for them.“Those masks were purchased as part of a bulk order.”

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