Page 20 of The Perfect People

Even though she knew it was coming, the blast of heat that walloped them as they exited the cool house was brutal. Once they were all outside and seated on wicker chairs, with the sliding door closed and Ilana out of earshot, Richie’s sullen silence quickly gave way to something more defiant.

“I really don’t know anything,” he told them before any questions were asked. “I didn’t want to say it in front of Ilana but my relationship with Shasta was almost exclusively sexual. It wasn’t like I was paying attention to her routines or who she had catfights with. I don’t see how I can help. Having said that, maybe I can help one of you ladies if you’re having an issue of a more…personal nature.”

At the conclusion of his little speech, he actually winked at them. Susannah looked over at Jessie, borderline dumbfounded at the chutzpah of his guy. The profiler looked back at her with a half-smile on her lips and it was clear what she was thinking without a word needing to be said. It was time to poke the bear.

Susannah smiled back and leaned forward so Richie could get an eyeful of what he’d been sneaking peeks at the whole time they’d been there. While his attention was fixed squarely on her chest, she responded in a playfully coquettish tone that suggested she might be interested in his overture.

“That seems to be how a lot of your relationships go down, huh, Richie?” she posed.

“What do you mean?” he replied, his eyes still locked squarely on her bosom.

“I mean, you said you and Shasta had a mostly physical thing,” she continued, “and I don’t get the sense that you and Ilana are exactly soul mates.”

“We have a good time,” he said, finally tearing his eyes away from her torso and looking at her face, “but I bet you and I couldreallyconnect, soul-wise.”

“Would I have to wear the handcuffs to make that connection?” she asked, the sugar in her tone masking the bite of her words.

It took him a second to process what she’d said.

“What?”

“The bruises on Ilana’s wrists,” Susannah said, still smiling pleasantly, “those are from the games you like to play in the bedroom, same as the marks around her neck.”

“Just like the games you used to play with Shasta,” Jessie piped in, her tone also conversational, somehow managing to not sound accusatory.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said cautiously.

“That might come as a surprise to Shasta’s assistant, Paisley,” Susannah said, letting a little edginess slip in now. “She remembers Shasta telling her very specific stories about the stuff you liked to do to her. Is that what you’d do to me, Richie Boy? Or do you just save that for the older ladies that you like to fleece?”

“What the hell?” he demanded, a look of angry confusion on his face. “I thought you wanted my help with her routine and stuff.”

“We’ll get to that,” Jessie said, “but first, you were tossed out of Shasta’s house and told never to return, so why were you there last night?”

“I wasn’t—”

“And remember,” Susannah interjected, knowing her next words would be especially bear-pokey, “Ilana just told us she went to sleep early so it’s not a great idea to lie to us and say you were here with her. We obviously know you were at the party. Why?”

“Look,” he said, “yes, I went to the party, okay. Ilana was zonked out. I could hear everybody having a good time and I was bored. There were so many people around, I didn’t even think Shasta would notice me. Besides, it had been months since we were together. I thought that was all water under the bridge.”

“Did you see her there?” Susannah demanded, keeping the pressure on.

“You know what,” he said, popping up, “I don’t have to take this crap. I thought I was helping you out but you’re treating me like I’m a suspect or something.”

“No we’re not, Richie,” Jessie assured him soothingly. “If you were a suspect, Detective Valentine here would have read you your rights and this would be a much more formal process. We consider you a witness assisting in an investigation. Should we not?”

“This witness is done assisting you,” he said haughtily, running his hand through his hair as he stared at Susannah scornfully. “Iwillanswer another question you had earlier though. You wanted to know if I would have used handcuffs on you. Here’s how it would go down. Your leggy friend here, she’s the type I’d marry, you know real-respectable like. Then I’d cheat on her with you. We’d use the cuffs, but I think you’d have put them on yourself. You strike me as the kind of gal who feels like she deserves a little punishment. I’d nail you real good and then never call you again. What Iwon’tdo is waste any more of my breath explaining myself to either of you.”

He got up and started back toward the sliding door. Susannah, fury rising in her chest, shot up and followed him, reaching for her handcuffs as she did. She’d see howheliked wearing them.

“You’re not going anywhere,” she ordered.

“Talk to the hand, bimbo,” he said, actually raising one hand as he reached for the sliding door with the other, never even bothering to turn around.

Jessie had stood up now too and was waving her arms wildly, in a pleading gesture for Susannah not to do what she was already in the process of doing. She ignored her partner and snapped one cuff on Richie’s raised wrist, then grabbed his forearm and yanked it behind his back.

Whether out of shock, panic, or guilt, the man did something she wasn’t expecting: he pressed his right leg against the sliding glass door and flung himself backward, slamming into her and sending them both careening into the patio table and toward the ground. It was all Susannah could do to avoid having him land on top of her as she landed.

She ignored the pain as her hip hit the unforgiving patio surface, and immediately scrambled to her feet. She saw that Richie was doing the same and gave him a sharp kick in the shin before he could fully regain his balance. He yelped in pain but didn’t fall. Instead, he took a step toward her.

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