Page 18 of The Perfect Crime

“Maybe she had another event for her kid,” Ryan suggested snarkily.

“I actually think she did,” Beth said.“She ran out of here pretty fast.”

“Regardless, let’s not complain about not getting the third degree,” he replied.“I think everyone should call it a night.We can come at this thing fresh tomorrow morning.”

“You all go ahead,” Jamil said.“I’m going to stick around a little longer to see if I can find any other unhappy clients of Whitaker’s from his time at the investment bank he worked at before Wiley McComb.We haven’t really explored that angle.”

Jessie knew better than to suggest that Jamil hold off until morning.Once he got fixated on a task, there was no pulling him away from it.Sometimes, he worked through the night on this stuff without a break.The kid was a freak of nature.

But she wasn't—at least not in that way.Apparently, unlike Jamil, she needed at least a few hours of sleep to function efficiently.She always feared that taking any kind of break could mean she'd miss something important, but if she didn't get some shuteye, the same thing might happen.Getting up slowly, she stretched her arms to the ceiling and yawned, then did a couple of lunges.

“You want to drive?”she asked Ryan, who was shoving some papers in a manila folder.

“Sure,” he replied.“You know I love to be at the wheel.”

“You mean be in charge?”she teased.

He was just opening his mouth to deliver a comeback when Beth interrupted.

"Um, guys, I think you may want to hear this."

The tone in her voice immediately made the hairs on the back of Jessie’s neck stand up.Before she could say anything, Ryan was standing up.

“What is it?”he asked.

"A 911 dispatcher just sent officers out to a home in the Hollywood Hills," Beth said."A man says he saw a masked figure sneaking out of his neighbor's house.When he went over to check on them, he found the husband tied up and the wife dead."

Jessie looked at Ryan, who had already started toward the door.

“We’re on our way,” he called out over his shoulder, “Text us the address.Then call us while we’re en route with whatever else you can find out.”

Jessie followed him out the door without a word.She had to break into a run to catch up to him.By the time she did, he was already at the elevator, punching the down button repeatedly.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Twenty-five minutes later, Jessie got out of the car, happy to be off the roller-coaster ride that was Ryan Hernandez speeding along the twists and turns of narrow Hollywood Hills streets at night.

By the time they arrived at the address that Beth had given them, they already had some sense of the situation.The young researcher had simply repeated the information that the 911 dispatcher had given to the first officers to head to the scene.

"The victim is Elena Vega," she had said."She was 34 years old.Her husband is Marcus Vega.He's 36.There's no real information on their backgrounds yet.According to the neighbor who called it in, they don't have any children.The officer in charge of the scene is Sergeant Calvin Warnes."

That’s who they looked for as they approached the house.Like many in the Hollywood Hills, it was built into the hillside.Though it had a modest-seeming first floor.Jessie knew that could be deceiving.It was modernist, all black and white with boxy angles.

The scene was so fresh that there wasn’t even police tape up yet.A young officer with strawberry blond hair stood by the driveway gate, apparently to stand guard, but his back was to them, and he didn’t notice them until they were right up on him.

“Officer,” Ryan said, making him jump.

The officer turned around, looking startled and a little overwhelmed.Jessie doubted he was more than 22.

“Um, this is a crime scene,” he said uncertainly.“No one is allowed on the property?”

“Is that a statement or a question?”Ryan asked him, before cutting him some slack and holding up his badge.“It’s okay, Officer.We’re official.Can you tell us where to find Sergeant Warnes?”

“He’s inside,” the young officer said unhelpfully.

“Okay, thanks.Now I recommend that you keep your attention directed that way,” Ryan said, pointing at the street.“You’re more like to find nosy neighbors coming from—you know—other houses than inside this one.”

“Yes sir,” the officer said sheepishly.

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