Page 28 of The Perfect Prey

It was admittedly a little cheesy and not what Jessie would have anticipated, based on Channing’s website photo.The woman’s personal vibe seemed more akin to a male rock critic in his early forties than a stunning twenty-something music executive.It was a reminder that as a profiler, she needed to check her assumptions at the door.

Just then, a man Jessie recognized stepped out of the bedroom.It was Sergeant Robert Frank.In his late forties, Frank’s belly was fighting his belt and what little hair he had left was more gray than brown.Jessie and Susannah had handled a case with him once before, and while he had exuded a worn out, beaten-down demeanor most of the time, he’d proven to be a competent professional.They could have been dealt a worse hand.

“Hello again, Sergeant,” she said as he approached.

“Ms.Hunt, Detective Valentine,” he replied, nodding.“Thanks for coming so quickly.”

“Thanks for reaching out,” Valentine replied.“Did you call us because you’d heard about the prior case or just because the scene was so unusual?”

“A little of both,” he said.“As soon as my people described the scene, it sounded really out there, so I checked the database and found your case in Hancock Park.Didn’t seem like a coincidence.There was one other reason, too.”

“What’s that?”Jessie asked, noting the ominous note in his tone.

“The only reason we found her was because of an anonymous tip.Someone called 911 from the victim’s cell phone to report the dead body.Then, they left the line open.I believe the killer wanted this woman found fast rather than wait for friends or co-workers to get worried after not hearing from her for days.”

“That was a risk,” Susannah noted.“If there was an officer in the immediate area when the dispatcher put the alert out, the killer might have been caught leaving the building.”

“That means they considered it a risk worth taking,” Jessie noted.“They wanted their work to get full credit right away.Apparently, after having to wait for the Hartleys’ bodies to be discovered the next morning, they didn’t want to take any chances.Whoever this is, it doesn’t appear that delayed satisfaction is up their alley.”

Sergeant Frank nodded in silent agreement.

“Did you find any sign of forced entry?”Susannah asked.

“No,” he said.“Your tech people will want to verify it, but we think they swiped an access card to gain entry.This might be a fancy apartment complex, but the cards are no better than at a cheap motel.They can be duped easily if someone has even basic skills.We also think they might have snuck in while Channing was in the shower.”

“Why do you say that?”Jessie asked.

“I’ll show you if you’re ready to go in the bedroom now.Jessie looked over at Susannah and nodded that she was.The followed the sergeant through the door.Jessie made sure not to look at the bed yet as he led them to the bathroom.They stopped at the threshold.

“The shower interior is still wet, as is the towel,” he said, pointing at the giant bath sheet lying in a heap on the floor.“Plus her body was still damp when we arrived, along with her hair.”

“You ready to take a look?”Susannah asked her.

“Yeah,” Jessie said, girding herself for what was to come.

They walked over the bed and Jessie’s scanned the body on it.The first thing she noted was that, as Sergeant Frank had indicated, her naked body still had beads of water on it.The comforter was damp, as was her hair, which was splayed out, Medusa-like, around her head.Her arms and legs had also been spread out like a recreation of Da Vinci’s Vitruvian Man at its widest point.

She was wearing a mask.It was clearly in the same style as the Hartleys’, but this one was adorned with a dozen small rubies, some above the eyes slots, some on the cheeks as if intended to give the impression of them being flushed.

Unlike with the Hartleys, it was clear where on her body the killer had made their initial assault.A large bump protruded from the upper back right section of her head, and there was some goopy, coagulated blood matted in her wet blonde hair.Jessie guessed that she’d been knocked out as she exited her shower, then dragged to the bed, where she’d been positioned like this before she was murdered.

As she stared at the young woman, Jessie felt a wave of empathetic loss overcome her.Evelyn Channing was in the prime of her life, beautiful and clearly doing what she was passionate about.And all that had been snuffed out in a matter of minutes.

Jessie sensed another emotion pushing the empathy out of the way and asserting itself.It was a familiar feeling, especially lately.It was as if acid was churning in her gut, a pit of venom that she wanted to spit at whoever was responsible for this act.

She had a flash of herself grabbing something heavy, maybe one of the dumbbells she saw in the corner of the room and using to smash in the skull of the perpetrator.She pictured it cracking like an egg, then saw herself pounding it over and over again, until the brains oozed out.Turnabout was fair play.She had to literally shake the image out of her head as she tried to refocus on the task at hand.

“You should have those dumbbells by the foot of the bed checked by CSU,” she told Sergeant Frank, pointing at them.“One of them might have been used to knock her out.I doubt there will be prints or DNA, but it’s worth looking at.”

“Will do,” he said, scribbling on a little notepad he’d pulled out.

“And you should have her pillows bagged and tested for saliva,” she added.“The medical examiner at the last scene determined that the victims were knocked out but still alive.The killer used their pillow to suffocate them, then placed the masks on their faces.”

“Okay,” Frank said, looking visibly disturbed, which was a rarity for him.

“Anything else?”Jessie asked, turning to Susannah.

The detective sighed in frustration.

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