Page 33 of The Perfect Prey

While they waited for him to end the suspense, another call came in on Jessie’s line.She didn’t recognize the number and immediately sent it to voicemail.In that time, Jamil still hadn’t shared his big revelation.Under other circumstances, Jessie would have been tickled by Jamil’s newfound flair for the dramatic and teased him a little, but not today.

“Tell us,” she said.

“Evelyn Channing also made monthly withdrawals that were donated to the ICSF.Guess how much she paid?”

“$22,000,” Susannah said with a shrug.

“$11,000,” he said.

A tiny explosion of recognition went off in Jessie’s head.

“Why is that significant?”Susannah asked.Apparently, she hadn’t made the connection yet.

“Because it’s exactly half what the Hartleys donate,” Jessie said.“But most charities don’t require donations to be a specific amount.They’ll take whatever you’re willing to give.But you know who does?”

“Who?”Susannah asked.

“Clubs—secret clubs,” Jessie said.“I think these are monthly membership dues.$22,000 for a couple like the Hartleys.Half of that for a single member like Evelyn.Is that what you’re thinking, Jamil?”

“Yes, Ms.Hunt,” Jamil replied enthusiastically.

“And I get the feeling that you’re holding back one crucial detail, aren’t you Jamil?”

“Yes, Ms.Hunt.”

“Well, go ahead and tell us,” she said.“This is your moment.”

“Those payments—or membership dues—were withdrawn from their accounts on the first of March and the first of April.”

Jessie saw the pieces start to fall into place for her partner.

“So this secret club is still active after all!”Susannah said.

“That’s right,” Jessie agreed.“These parties might not be happening at abandoned warehouses or empty mansions anymore, but they’re still happening.And you know what that means.”

“What?”Jamil asked, apparently stumped for the first time in this conversation.

“It means that our party planner friend, Valentina Russo, wasn’t completely forthcoming with us.I knew she was holding something back, but until now, I didn’t know what.These parties—possibly with attendees wearing masks like the ones found on our victims—are still happening and she knew it.”

“Isn’t she supposed to be coming into the station this morning with that memo describing the design instructions for those masks?”

“She is,” Jessie said, “but considering her lack of forthrightness, I think it’s time we checked in with Ms.Russo—forcefully.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Hannah debated whether to answer the call.

She didn’t recognize the phone number, and it was already 7:57 a.m.Her Mood Disorders class started in three minutes.

But with Ryan still recovering and Jessie working a case, she was a little unsettled.The 213 area code was for downtown L.A.What if this was a call from an LAPD co-worker of Jessie’s, sharing bad news?She knew that if she let it go to voicemail, she’d never be able to concentrate in class, so she answered it.

“This is Hannah,” she said.

There was a long pause on the other end of the line.She was about to hang up when an automated voice spoke.

“You have received a collect call from ‘Mark Haddonfield,’” the voice said, with Haddonfield inserting his name after the pause.Then the automated voice returned.“Will you accept the charges?”

Hannah felt her mouth go dry.Why the hell was the guy who tried to murder her last summer, and who attempted to do the same to Jessie mere months later, calling her?She still remembered how he’d come at her on the Santa Monica Pier that September summer night seven months ago; how she’d managed to kick him in the knee, sending him limping off into the darkness with an injury that would eventually require surgery to repair.

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