Page 22 of The Perfect Betrayal

Kat forced her brain to turn elsewhere, specifically back to the hunt for Pierce. She had a working theory about where the woman might have gone. And if she was right—if she could find her—then maybe she could finally take the fight to the woman who had ruined and nearly ended her life.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Jessie worried that she was missing something important.

Her head still hadn’t completely cleared, and it was now several hours since she’d woken up. She simultaneously worried when that would finally happen and silently chastised herself for taking the medication in the first place. She’d been so intent on controlling her violent urges that she’d let that desperation trump her good judgment, and Dr. Lemmon’s. Now she was paying the price. She could only hope that potential future victims of this killer wouldn’t as well.

As she and Riddell waited in Oliver Stanton’s yacht club office, she tried to focus. They were here for a reason. Supposedly any minute, two mutual friends of Daran Peterson and Taye Boyce were set to arrive at the yacht club.

Riddell was agitated and impatient, but Jessie was happy for the brief respite, hoping that by the time the men showed up, she’d be back to her normal self. She certainly hadn’t been that way an hour earlier when they’d pressed Stanton about the friendship between the two men.

“Were these guys just causal friends or were they besties?” Riddell had asked after the three of them returned to the clubhouse from the boat where the CSU was finishing their work.

“They were friends who were all part of the same social circle,” Stanton had explained.

“How many people are we talking about?” Riddell had demanded.

“It’s not an official group or anything,” Oliver said, sounding put out by Riddell’s aggressive tone. “But I’d say there are six of them that typically hang out together.”

“We’ll need all their names, Mr. Stanton,” Jessie had told him, trying not to sound as domineering as Riddell.

“Is that really necessary?”

She jumped in with her answer before her partner could berate the guy.

“I’m afraid it is,” she explained. “We need to find out if these murders are connected. Were two random members of the club killed independent of each other? Or did their friendship have something to do with it? Either way, talking to their friends will give us insight that we can’t get from just looking at video footage or going over their biographical profiles. We need their names so we can ask them to come in.”

Stanton had given them the list just after 8 A.M. It was now almost nine, and no one had arrived. Riddell was flat out pissed.

"We should just go to their offices and interrogate them there," he groused. "See how these rich, pretty boys like that."

Jessie understood that instinct. In fact, she was intrigued by the idea of putting these guys in their place too. But the whole point of having them come to the club was that they’d feel comfortable and hopefully be more forthcoming than if they were questioned at their offices or down at a police station.

“Let’s give it a few more minutes,” she suggested. “We can always go to them if we need to, but I’d rather not start off confrontational. Let’s build to that.”

Riddell opened his mouth, clearly about to register a different take, when Jessie’s phone rang.

“It’s Jamil, my head of research. Let’s see what he has for us,” she said before turning to Stanton. “Do you mind giving us a moment?”

Stanton nodded and scurried out of his own office. Jessie turned her attention to Jamil, whom she’d tasked him with gathering all he could on Taye Boyce. With several hours to do a deep dive, she expected a lot.

“What have you got for us, Jamil?” she asked, “You’re on speaker with me and Detective Riddell.”

“Unfortunately, Ms. Hunt,” he began, “we haven’t uncovered as much as I would have hoped by now.”

“Whatever you’ve discovered is more than we know here, so fire away.”

“All right,” he said. “Taye Boyce worked for a corporate bank based out of Chicago called Midway Finance. Their L.A. offices are in El Segundo.”

Jessie nodded to herself. El Segundo was only about five miles up the coast from Redondo Beach, making after-work visits to the beach club an easy drive.

“What exactly did he do for them?” Riddell wanted to know.

“He was in their mergers and acquisitions group,” Beth said, speaking for the first time. “And it looked like he was doing pretty well for himself. He was made a vice-president six months ago. His salary was bumped up to $1.5 million. With bonuses, he cleared over $4 million last year. All this for a guy who just turned thirty.”

"What is his personal situation?" Jessie asked.

"He lives in a beachfront condo in Manhattan Beach," Beth replied. "According to his social media, he was dating a corporate lawyer from Santa Monica for about a year, until last summer. But since then, he seems to have been living the single life. From what we can tell, he mostly worked, traveled for work, and hung out on the sailboat that he bought three years ago."

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