Page 44 of The Perfect People

“We need to borrow your key card, Mr. Tranter,” she told him. “I think our guy heard his name and retreated to the little boys’ room. We need to have a chat with him.”

“Is that absolutely necessary?” Mr. Tranter asked. “We have customers in the building.”

“It is,” Susannah said. “Are there any windows or possible exits via the restroom?”

“No,” he assured them. “It’s completely enclosed.”

“Great,” Jessie said. “Key card, please. And you may want to close the branch a bit early today.”

With his jaw open, Tranter handed over the card. Jessie took it without another word and immediately went down the hall where she’d seen the retreating foot. Susannah, right behind her, pulled out her weapon and positioned herself to the left of the door. Jessie stood to the right, removed her gun, and looked at her partner.

“You ready?”

“Always,” Susannah said. “You unlock and open. I’ll go in first. You follow behind. Sound good?”

Jessie nodded, swiped the key card, and pushed the door slightly ajar. Susannah leaned in and kicked it open with her foot, stepping inside. Jessie followed her, pressing up against the open door. No one was visible in the restroom, though two feet could be seen in one of the three stalls.

“Cyril Currie,” Susannah announced, “this is the Los Angeles Police Department. We need you to open the door and come out with your hands up.”

There was a brief moment of silence before a voice responded shakily.

“Um, my name’s not Cyril. I don’t know what this is about, but I’ll do whatever you say. Can I just take a second to finish up in here and then I’ll come out?”

Susannah looked over at Jessie, perplexed, then shrugged.

“You have twenty seconds,” she told him.

The man did what he needed to do, then spoke again.

“Okay, I’m going to flush the toilet, then open the door, and come out. Please don’t shoot me.”

“Move slowly,” Susannah instructed.

The man did exactly what he said. When he emerged from the stall, it was clear that he wasn’t Cyril Currie. The guy in front of them was short, Latino, and in his mid-twenties.

“Who are you?” Susannah demanded.

“My name is Ronaldo Silva,” he answered. “I came here to deposit some cash from some contracting work I did this morning. I just decided to use the bathroom before I left. Is that not legal? I swear, one of the employees let me in.”

Jessie offered the guy a tight smile.

“No, Mr. Silva, that’s not illegal,” she said. “You’re free to go.”

“Can I wash my hands first?”

She nodded and he hurriedly cleaned up before darting out of the bathroom.

“I guess I had it wrong,” she said after he left.

“Maybe he’s already left for the day,” Susannah suggested, heading for the door.

That didn’t sit right with Jessie.

“But Tranter didn’t seem to think so,” she pointed out. “He thought he was in here. And this doesn’t seem like the kind of place where you just bail without keeping your boss looped in, even on the Saturday of a holiday weekend.”

She turned around and looked back at the stalls, then at Susannah again. Her partner got the hint.

“I guess we should go ask Mr. Tranter what’s up then,” the detective said.

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