Page 36 of The Perfect Crime

“Stop!”she shouted.“Stay where you are!”

Even though the safety was on, she felt her finger inching toward the trigger.Anger and adrenaline had her breathing heavy and grinding her teeth.She realized that some part of her was hoping he’d make a move.

He froze in his current position, which was on his knees beside the toilet.His black hair, previously so severely parted, was now plastered to his forehead.His eyes had the same intensity as at the press conference, but now had an extra dose of frenzy to them.

“Show me your hands,” Jessie instructed as she moved into the stall, reminding herself not to do anything rash, “and explain why you ran from us.”

“What’s going on in here?”demanded one of the men who’d been at the urinals.“Why are you in the men’s room?”

“Police business,” Jessie snapped, keeping her eyes on the paisley man.“If you want to be helpful, you can look around the mezzanine for an officer and let them know I could use some assistance.”

“How do I know that you’re who you say you are?”the guy asked.

Jessie snuck a quick glimpse at the speaker.He was in his forties, heavyset, with longish gray-brown hair, blue jeans, and a t-shirt for the band, Primus.

"Listen, man, this isn't chit-chat time," she instructed, "you can help or not, but either way, I need you to exit the restroom."

The man loitered where he was, so Jessie gave him a little incentive.

“Now!”she barked, briefly holding the gun to her chest so the onlooker could see it.That was enough for him, and he scurried out.She returned her attention—and her pointed gun—to the paisley man, who was still on his knees with his hands up.

“You didn’t answer my question,” she reminded him.“Who are you?”

The man made no attempt to get up or act in any aggressive way.But he also didn’t speak.Instead, all he did was slowly shake his head.

“Wonderful,” she muttered.“I guess we’re going to have to have this conversation down at the station.Shuffle out from next to that toilet, turn around, and place your hands behind your head.Do you understand?”

The man nodded silently and began to do as she asked, sliding on his knees out into the open space and maneuvering around to face away from her.He interlocked his fingers behind the back of his head and waited.She was about to get out her handcuffs when she heard a familiar voice.

“Jessie, are you in there?”Ryan called out.

“I am,” she shouted back, “and I’ve made a new friend.I’d love for you to meet him too.”

“Okay, coming in,” he announced.

She waited for him, happy to have the help, unsure if their hunt for the killer was finally over.

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

Jessie stepped out of the interrogation room.

She did her best to hide her frustration but sensed that it was coming through anyway.

She and Ryan had been “interviewing” the suspect for the last half hour.But the interview had largely consisted of them posing questions to the man, and him staring back at them in silence, while his eyes darted around like mad.

“Let’s give him time to stew,” Ryan said after following her out and closing the door.“Maybe Jamil and Beth have found something worthwhile that we can use when we go back in there.”

They walked down the hall to the research department, where they found the staff of two, as usual, hovering over their monitors.

“How’s it going in here?”Ryan asked.

Jamil didn’t look away from his screen, but Beth did.

“We were just about to check in with you,” she said.“We’ve got some updates.”

“We’ll take whatever you can offer,” Jessie said, “because the paisley man isn’t saying a word.”

“First of all, “ Jamil said, without looking up, “his name is Eric Sawyer, twenty-nine years old.As you discovered, he didn’t have any identification on him, but his fingerprints were in the system.”

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