The Perfect Veil, page 2
“I actually had my first seminar since the whole Night Hunter thing,” Jessie said, unable to hide her excitement. “It was the best-attended one so far, although I have a sneaking suspicion that was a result of that very same Night Hunter thing. I thought I saw some students checking me for visible scars.”
“Silly kids,” Kat chuckled, “Don’t they know all the really impressive scars are on the inside? What about the other big event? How are things going on the wedding front? Choose a date yet? Got a venue? Picked out a pastor? Where’s the reception? Most importantly, who are your bridesmaids?”
“Ugh, my blood pressure just went up listening to you,” Jessie said.
“We’re taking it slow,” Ryan added. “Right now, we’re in the ‘tell our co-workers about it’ stage. That’s been interesting enough.”
“Yeah,” Jessie said. “Callum Reid already told me that he wants to give me away. He says now that he’s off the force he needs something to focus on.”
Jessie didn’t mention the other reason the recently retired detective was probably offering: all her other father figures had been murdered.
“We figure we’ll linger in the joy of engagement-hood for a little while before getting into the stressful stuff,” Ryan said, interrupting her thoughts. “Remember, I’ve been to this wedding rodeo once before and the planning part was definitely not my favorite.”
“See,” Jessie said. “That’s why he’s the guy for me. We’re simpatico on this. Enjoy now. Stress later.”
She flashed back to the proposal: up in the snowy mountain town of Wildpines, just after finally stopping the Night Hunter, with Ryan down on one knee in the snow, a small black ring box in his hand on a gorgeous, sunny morning. He really was the guy for her.
“I’m glad to hear no crucial decisions are imminent,” Kat said, pulling her back into the present, “because I wouldn’t be able to help with any of them.”
“Why not?” Hannah asked, expressing interest in the conversation for the first time.
“That’s the news I wanted to tell you about. I’m going to be out of town for a bit.”
“Why?” Hannah asked.
“For how long?” Jessie added.
“Whoa,” Kat said, taken aback, “it’s nice to be wanted but settle down. I’m just going up to Lake Arrowhead.”
“To see your boyfriend?” Hannah teased.
Kat’s long distance boyfriend, Mitch Connor, was a sheriff’s deputy up in the mountain town of Lake Arrowhead, about two hours northeast of Los Angeles. They’d met when she assisted Jessie on a case last year and visited the town while following a lead. He helped her out; they hit it off and had been going back and forth to see each other every few weeks for months now.
“That’s part of it,” Kat said evenly, not taking the bait, “but I’ve also got a case. Mitch said some guy he knows who runs a ski resort in Big Bear thinks his wife is cheating on him and wants her tailed by someone who’s good but not local. Mitch said he had the perfect candidate.”
“So you’ve basically found a way to get a free ski vacation out of this,” Ryan observed.
“I don’t ski,” Kat said coquettishly. “So I guess Mitch and I will have to find other ways to keep busy when I’m not on a stakeout.”
“Oh my God,” Hannah said, pressing her hands to her ears as she hurriedly left the room, “You realize I’m still technically a child, right? Why am I being subjected to this? I’ll be in my room until either you all leave or my therapy appointment, whichever comes first.”
She dashed across the room, red-faced. As Jessie watched her go, she wished she could embrace the ‘technically a child’ assertion. It might be true, but her half-sister, just months from turning eighteen, had long since left childhood behind.
Apart from all the traumas she’d recently suffered, physically, no one would mistake her for a kid. She was barely an inch shorter than Jessie. They shared the same green eyes. And with her long, skinny frame, her medium length blonde hair, and her attitude, she sometimes looked closer to thirty than to twenty. At certain angles they could be mistaken for fraternal twins, though Jessie would never say that out loud. The three adults waited until Hannah slammed closed the door to her room to continue.
“I should keep you around all the time,” Jessie said. “That way I can deploy you whenever her sarcasm levels get too high.”
“Happy to be of assistance,” Kat told her, starting for the front door, “but not until after I conquer the sin in the snow. That’s what I’m calling this case.”
“I’m very happy for you,” Jessie said. “I hope it’s all you’re dreaming of and more. Let me know when you’re headed back to town and we can discuss your hot tub adventures.”
“Now you’re going to make me run out of the room,” Ryan threatened, though he was smiling.
They ignored him.
“Hey,” Kat remembered, “any updates on our unstable, incarcerated friend who shall not be named? Has she tried to get in touch with you again? Did you agree to write that letter for her?”
Jessie shook her head, not wanting to think about the Andy Robinson situation. After all, this was a woman who had tricked her into trusting her—even befriending her—during an investigation, then tried to poison her when Jessie discovered that she was the killer all along.
“I’ve been putting it off,” she said. “I know that she was helpful on the Night Hunter case, and that she says she can provide good info on other cases, but the idea of writing a letter in favor of transferring someone who tried to kill me to a nicer prison just rubs me the wrong way.”
“I don’t blame you,” Kat said. “That woman is bad news, no matter how much help she offers. Be careful, okay?”
Jessie gave her friend a hug.
“I will,” she promised. “You have fun up there in the mountains with your boy toy. And stay safe.”
“You too, lady,” Kat replied. “With a teenage hormone monster in one room, a tough guy fiancé in the other, students to teach, endless killers to catch, and an incarcerated, obsessed sociopath trying to wheedle her way back into your life, you’ve got a full plate. And now you won’t have me watching your back, so keep your head on a swivel.”
“Always,” Jessie said.
As if on cue, just as she closed and locked the door behind Kat, Ryan’s phone buzzed.
“What is it?” she asked warily.
“It’s Captain Decker,” he said, looking at his text. “He wants us at the station. He says he needs to talk to both of us.”
“What happened?”
“He didn’t say,” Ryan told her. “Just that it’s not about a case.”
CHAPTER TWO
Even though their boss said their meeting didn’t involve a case, they moved quickly.
Less than twenty minutes after getting the call, they passed through the bullpen of the downtown Los Angeles Central Station on their way to Captain Roy Decker’s office. It was surprisingly quiet considering that it was already after 8 a.m.
The rest of LAPD’s Homicide Special Section team was already at their dedicated section. Each of them looked up but no one said anything. Detective Karen Bray gave them a little smile. Detective Jim Nettles half-nodded. The newest detective, Susannah Valentine, gave Jessie a hard, less than friendly stare. She pretended not to notice, not wanting to give Valentine the satisfaction.
Because of a string of recent successes, including stopping the Night Hunter and solving the murder of a beloved social media star—both of which Jessie had been central to making happen—Homicide Special Section had gone from being on life support within the department to getting press accolades and an infusion of financial and human resources. Valentine, who Jessie found to be arrogant to a fault, was the first resource in the latter camp.
Another detective was supposed to be hired within the next month but, so far, Decker hadn’t found the perfect candidate. It was understandable. Homicide Special Section, or HSS for short, was one of LAPD’s most elite units, handling high profile cases, many with intense media scrutiny, often involving multiple victims and serial killers. It deserved a top investigator and there were dozens of applicants for the remaining position.
They reached Decker’s door, which was slightly ajar, and Ryan raised his hand to knock when Jessie stopped him, grabbing his arm.
“What?” he asked, startled.
“I just wanted to get a good look at you,” she said, smiling. “We were moving so fast earlier that I didn’t get my usual morning moment to appreciate what a dish you are.”
Detective Ryan Hernandez blushed. Jessie loved that she could still cause that reaction in a man who made other women’s heads turn when he walked by. With his short, jet black hair, his kind, brown eyes, and his broad-shouldered six-foot frame, he was hard not to notice.
He still wasn’t quite back to his “pre-stabbing and multiple week coma” muscled, 200-pound physique, but he was getting close. His rehab workout regime was even more arduous than Jessie’s routine and it was paying dividends. Another six weeks at the same intensity and he’d be back to full strength, and a full three months before even the most optimistic doctors thought possible.
“Are you done?” he asked, embarrassed. “Can I knock now?”
“Are you sure I can’t get you to do a little butt wiggle before we go in?”
He pretended to scowl as he knocked on Decker’s door.
“Come in,” the captain called out.
They stepped into the office, which was furnished with an old desk, an old rolling chair behind it, two old metal chairs across from it, and an extremely old sofa along the back wall. The sofa looked like it had been purchased at a 1970s garage sale and not cleaned since. Jessie took a seat in one of the metal chairs. Ryan took the other.
Decker was standing, studying a file that he held about five inches in front of his face. He still looked as weathered and worn out as usual, way more than a sixty-one year old man should be. He was slouched with his chest caving in on itself. His face was still a mass of wrinkles, and his few clumps of gray hair shot out wildly. His eyes were as piercing as ever. But something about him was different than usual. And then, in a flash, she realized what it was: Captain Roy Decker almost looked happy. It was so rare that it was actually cause for concern.
“Everything okay, Captain?” Ryan asked, when Decker still hadn’t spoken or looked up after half a minute.
“To be honest, I’m not sure,” he said, finally placing the file on the desk and sitting down. “I’ve been reviewing department policy on romantic relationships between professional partners.”
Jessie felt the tension rise in her chest, not out of nervousness so much as out of annoyance.
“What does it say in there about congratulating folks on getting engaged, Captain?” she asked. “Because I noticed you haven’t done that yet.”
Decker’s wrinkled features briefly softened.
“You’re right. I’m sorry about that. I move straight from hearing the news to judging the news. Congratulations. I’m very happy for you.”
“Thank you,” she said.
“Thanks, Captain,” Ryan joined in.
“And now back to the judging,” Decker said, the wrinkles returning.
“What’s the problem, sir?” Ryan asked. “Jessie’s not formally my partner. She’s not even a detective or an LAPD employee. She’s a criminal profiler who consults for the department on a case by case basis. She’s worked more cases with Detectives Bray and Reid than with me lately.”
“Come on, Hernandez,” Decker scoffed, “we all know that was because you were out of commission for most of the last seven months after the whole ‘stabbing and coma’ situation. If you’d been available, you two would have been working together.”
“So what?” Jessie protested. “Like Ryan said, I’m not a detective. I’m a consultant. The standard rules aren’t applicable.”
“I’m not so sure,” Decker countered. “And just as important, public perception matters. There are a lot more eyes on us now, jealous folks looking for us to fail. They’ll use any excuse to make us look bad to the media and get our funding redirected to their departments.”
“That won’t work,” Ryan said. “The press loves Jessie.”
“Right now it does,” Decker agreed, “but remember it wasn’t all that long ago that her ex-husband tried to frame her to make it look like she was racist, anti-police, and a drug addict all at the same time. Don’t you recall the crowds protesting outside this station? Hell, after she took down Sergeant Hank Costabile—that corrupt bastard—there are still some cops in the Valley Division she’d be wise not to run into in a dark alley.”
“What’s your point, Captain?” Jessie demanded.
“My point is that we need to make sure this isn’t a potential conflict of interest and that’s not a decision I can make alone. And we have to think about what this says to the other members of the unit.”
“What?” she asked incredulously. “Do you think Susannah Valentine is going to make a play for Jim Nettles? The guy’s a decade older than her, is married with three kids, and can’t button his dress shirts properly.”
“There aren’t just detectives in this unit, Hunt,” Decker reminded her.
“Are you talking about Jamil Winslow?” Ryan laughed, referring to their brilliant head of research. “The kid’s twenty-four and could get knocked over by a strong gust of wind. I’m not sure he’s ever even been on a date. If she hit on him, he’d probably pass out then and there.”
“Not the point,” Decker said, clearly growing impatient. “I don’t want any complaints or bad press. And that means I need the all clear on this from the human resources review board before I’m willing to pair you two up on any more cases. That’s how it has to be for now.”
Jessie was about to object. Maybe she hadn’t been clear that this was a consulting gig and that she was only willing to do it on terms she found acceptable. But before she could say anything, Ryan touched her hand. She looked over to see him giving her what could best be described as a “don’t poke the bear” look. She closed her mouth and nodded. After all, this wasn’t just a gig for him. He was a full-time LAPD employee and he could only push so hard.
“Was that all, Captain?” he asked, starting to stand up.
“Actually, I’d like to speak to Hunt privately for a moment.”
Jessie and Ryan exchanged a look of trepidation before she responded.
“Sure.”
“Please close the door on your way out, Hernandez,” Decker said.
Once they were alone, Decker fixed his eagle eyes on Jessie.
“I’d like you to consider coming back to HSS full-time,” he said bluntly.
“What?” she asked, stunned that he would make such a request after what he’d just told them.
“I’m going to be straight with you,” he said. “I know Garland Moses was your mentor. He was a good friend of mine too. His murder has left a big hole in both our lives. But it has also left a professional hole in the department. He was the best criminal profiler the LAPD had for the last two decades. You’re the only one who has even come close to him. But you only show up when I call you, desperate for your help on a major case.”
“Garland was a consultant too,” Jessie noted.
“Technically, yes,” Decker acknowledged. “But he showed up here every day. He had an office. We had a special arrangement with him but he was available. And with him gone and you off educating future generations, when it comes to profilers, we’re often left with what I’ll generously call the ‘B’ team. It’s not sustainable.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, Captain,” Jessie said sincerely. “But I enjoy educating those future generations. I had my first seminar in weeks yesterday and being in that lecture hall, I realized how much I’d missed it. Those kids hung on my every word.”
“They sound more like groupies than students,” he pointed out.
“Some of them probably are, which I don’t love,” she admitted. “But still, I feel like I’m making a difference.”
“You make a real difference here too, Hunt, every time you solve a murder, every time you give a family some measure of closure.”
“That matters to me too, Captain, but I’m just not sure I’m willing to open myself up to that darkness every day, especially with a kid in the house.”
She recalled the constant sense of dread that came from dealing with worst that humanity had to offer each day. She remembered how it weighed on her and cast a shadow over her home life. Most important, she couldn’t forget how her daily work often put those she loved at risk. On more than one occasion, Hannah had become a target because of what her sister did for a living.
“A kid—doesn’t Hannah graduate in a few months?” Decker asked, knowing full well that she did.
“Yes,” she conceded. “But I still need to be there for her. Besides, I’m also not sure how interested I would be if I can’t work with Ryan. We make a good team. You know that.”
“Just think about it,” he said as his phone rang. “In the meantime, I’ll let you get out there so you can discuss wedding reception centerpieces and whatnot.”
“Thanks, Captain,” she said, rolling her eyes as she got up.
“Go ahead,” he said to the person on the line.
As she walked to the door, she could hear the urgency in his voice as he asked questions. She wasn’t surprised when, before she stepped out, he called out to her.
“Hold on a second there, Hunt—I think I may have a case for you.”
CHAPTER THREE
“Who do you want?” he asked her after he’d finished up his call.
“What do you mean?” Jessie said.
“Your fiancé is off limits for now,” Decker told her. “So you can work this case with Bray, Nettles, or Valentine. Who do you prefer?”
“Why me?’ she asked. “Why don’t you assign the case to Ryan?”
“Because he’s here every day and I’m not sure about the next time I’ll get you. You’ve made it clear that with your class schedule, your availability is limited. But you’re here now so I’m taking advantage. So who’s it going to be? Maybe break in the newbie?”
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