Page 22 of The Perfect Prey

“I was about to go to sleep,” Russo objected.

Jessie doubted that but kept it to herself.She also did her best not to give off the impression that what Valentina Russo wanted to do was irrelevant.She could almost hear the desire to say exactly that radiating off Susannah beside her.

“We understand,” Jessie said calmly, choosing not to voice her skepticism that a 25-year-old like Russo went to bed at 8 p.m., “but this is a very important case.You’ll still be able to get to bed afterward, but we’re going to insist that you talk with us first.When it comes to investigating crimes, public safety takes priority over comfort.You understand, I’m sure.”

Russo did not, in fact, look like she understood or much cared, but she did seem to sense that refusing a request from the police might not be well received.So she reluctantly held the door open for them.Jessie was unsurprised to find that Russo—who claimed to be about to go to sleep—was wearing designer yoga tights and a form-fitting tank top.It didn’t seem like traditional sleepwear.

“What’s the deal, Val?”an irritated male voice asked from somewhere in the apartment.

A second later, a thickly built guy of about thirty with closely cropped black hair, stepped out of what Jessie assumed was the bedroom.He was shirtless and wore tight sweatpants.Jessie was pretty sure she recognized him.Then it hit her.

“Just give me a minute, Coy,” Russo said without looking back.

But that didn’t seem to appease Coy, who walked toward them with a certitude that bordered on arrogance.He stopped about ten feet from the doorway that Jessie and Susannah had just stepped through.

“Do we have some kind of problem?”he demanded.

“Who’s this fella?”Susannah asked Russo, not bothering to address the guy directly.

“Just a friend from work,” the woman said defensively.“I’m letting him crash here for a few days.”

“Hi, ‘friend from work,’” Susannah said, clearly amused.“Coy is it?”

“Your friend Coy looks a lot like a security guard for your employer, Arresting Affairs,” Jessie noted wryly, recalling the photos that Jamil had sent them of the guards who might have been with Russo when she collected the masks.She knew that calling that out would make Russo nervous and agitate Coy.

“How do you know about our work?”he barked.“And who do you think you are, barging in here at this hour?”

Jessie glanced over at Susannah and gave her best “please stay cool” expression.Her partner nodded in understanding before replying.

“First of all,” she said saccharinely, “we didn’t barge in.Val let us in.Secondly, we’re with the Los Angeles Police Department, so slow your roll, tough guy.We’re going to have a chat with your co-worker, so you can either return to the boudoir or take a hike.What youcan’tdo is stand there without a shirt, demanding answers.Which is going to be, big boy?”

The guy seemed torn.He clearly didn’t appreciate being knocked down to size by a woman who looked less like a cop than a lingerie model.But he also didn’t seem to want to push too hard and end up in a bad spot.Finally, he made his decision.

“I’ll be in the bedroom,” he pouted before trying to salvage some dignity.“Call me if you need me, Val.”

No one said anything as he retreated to the other room.Susannah followed him and made a point of closing the bedroom door.When she returned, they re-focused their attention on Russo.

“Have a seat,” Susannah said.The young woman did as instructed, sitting on a cushioned chair.Jessie sat on the loveseat opposite her.Susannah remained standing.

“We’re going to get straight to the point,” Jessie told her, leaning forward.“If you’re forthright with us, we can be out of here quickly.But if you hem and haw, this is going to take a while, and I have to tell you, we’ve both had a long, exhausting day and would love to avoid that.Are we all clear?”

Russo nodded sullenly.

“We know you purchased multiple bulk orders of masquerade ball masks from Marcel DuBois’s shop, Belle of the Ball.What were they for?”

Russo’s face grew hard, even as her skin turned pink.

“I can’t say,” she told them.“I have a confidentiality agreement.”

“We understand that,” Jessie said sympathetically.“I’m sure that sort of thing was a priority for a client who ordered potentially millions of dollars’ worth of these masks.But we’re investigating a serious crime, and that trumps your agreement.Eventually, you’re going to have to tell us.So you can do it now without having to incur any legal costs to fight the request.Or this can get very bureaucratic, which would look awful for you and your client, what with the whole crime investigation thing.They probably wouldn’t love the publicity either.So let’s keep this simple and quiet, and you just tell us, okay?”

Russo squirmed in her chair.

“Are you able to protect me so that my client doesn’t come after me, like legally and stuff?”

“Yes,” Susannah said, without any of her usual snark.“Confidentiality agreements and NDAs can’t be used to prevent reporting a crime.And this is a serious crime investigation.You’re covered.”

Jessie noted that Susannah didn’t add how talking to them might impact Russo’s future employment.Her client might not be able to sue her, but they could put pressure on her boss, who could probably find a pretext to fire her.If it came to that, Jessie would testify on her behalf.But that was an issue for another day.

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