by Blake Pierce
Of course, most fits of jealously didn’t result in two horrific murders on consecutive nights. The thought resurfaced another concern, one that had been quietly bothering her for a while and was now doing so loudly: two nights of associated killings could be a coincidence or even a maniac on a drug-fueled spree. But three nights in a row constituted an unmistakable pattern. What would happen tonight?
“Allison,” she wondered, “You said earlier that you’d probably end up doing the makeup for everyone’s wedding. Are there a lot of them coming up?”
“For sure. Claire was the first in our group. Jax was going to be next but she and Titus pushed it back a few months. But I can think of at least two more in the next year. It’s pretty incestuous. That’s the word for it, right?”
Jessie ignored the fact that it most certainly was not and pressed ahead.
“Who’s next on the wedding schedule?”
Allison checked her phone.
“That would be Caroline Ryan. Hers is in three months.”
Jessie recognized the name. It had been on both Titus Poole’s and Jack Bender’s lists of friends.
“Where would she be now?” Reid asked. “Does she live with her fiancé?”
“They bought a place together recently. But if you’re looking to talk to her now, she won’t be at home. She’s kind of a workaholic.”
“What does she do?” he asked.
“She owns a little boutique on Melrose. It specializes in ‘80s era outfits. If someone wore it in a John Hughes movie, she probably has a version of it.”
Reid turned to Jessie with a big grin on his face.
“I guess we’re headed back in time,” he said.
Jessie managed to stifle her groan at the cheesy comment, but Allison couldn’t, so she got to experience it vicariously through her.
“Don’t make that crack to Caroline,” Allison warned. “She takes what she does seriously. If you get Dad jokey with her, she’ll just shut down.”
Jessie was happy for the advice on how to approach the interview. But when it came to solving murders, she wasn’t interested in people’s delicate sensibilities. Caroline would answer their questions, whether she wanted to or not.
CHAPTER TEN
Melrose Avenue was eerily quiet.
It was mid-morning on a Monday, so it wasn’t that big a shock. But still, there was something a little creepy about a major shopping district looking like an abandoned old west town. Jessie half-expected a tumbleweed to blow past.
By the time they pulled up outside Caroline’s shop, Abe Froman’s, it was almost 11 a.m. The security gate was still pulled across the door, indicating it wasn’t open yet.
“I don’t get it,” Reid said, looking at the storefront sign. “What’s the name mean?”
“It’s a reference to Ferris Bueller’s Day Off,” she said, shaking her head in disbelief. “He was the sausage king of Chicago. Didn’t you grow up in the ‘80s?”
“Yes, but I was more into the Stallone and Schwarzenegger oeuvres,” he replied drily.
Jessie thought of several snarky comebacks to that but chose not to share any of them.
“Since we have a few minutes, do you mind if I make a personal call?” she asked.
“Go for it,” he said. “I was actually going to run across the street for a doughnut. You want one?”
“First of all, thank you but no. Second of all, you know you’re a walking cliché, right?”
“And proud of it,” he shot back, smiling.
Once he was gone, she called Ryan. He had updated her earlier when she texted, letting her know that Brady Bowen was sitting in his car, half a block down the street from their house, where he’d been ever since Ryan left for work earlier that morning. Hannah hadn’t been outside at all at that point.
“How’s it going?” she asked when he picked up. “Any leads on the Night Hunter?”
“Not much to speak of,” he said, sounding incredibly agitated. “Jamil has meticulously gone through all the footage from near the Santa Monica hostel where Trembley was killed. We were able to track him to a block away from the place as he arrived and left. But then he just disappears. He knew exactly how to avoid cameras, dipping in and out of blind spots, entering parking garages. It’s been a wild goose chase.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, frustrated for him but not wanting to feed into the guilt he already felt about what happened last night by asking questions that might make him defensive.
“Yeah, it sucks. Now we’re starting to dive into connections through the initials. We know he killed Jared Hartung and Jenavieve Holt because they had had the same ones as you and he was trying to get your attention. But we’re trying to determine if there might be another connection we’re missing. So far, we’ve got nothing.”
She heard an indecipherable mumbling in the background.
“What was that?” she asked.
“That’s Jamil. He wanted you to know he ran a diagnostic on our home security systems and updated them with a few new patches. Otherwise, he says we’re good.”
Jessie was only slightly relieved.
“Please thank him for me. Still, I’m going to invest in some of the additional precautions we discussed.”
“You mean the extra panic room?” he teased.
“That might take a while longer, as will the laser grid,” she replied, refusing to give in to the taunting. “But there’s no reason we can’t have the heat sensors in place in the next 48 hours. Speaking of security precautions, have you heard from Brady lately?”
There was a moment of guilty silence on the line before he responded.
“I’ve actually been so focused on this stuff that I forgot to check in. But I haven’t heard anything since I updated you last so I assume everything’s fine.”
She wasn’t satisfied.
“That is, unless the Night Hunter has slit hit his throat and is inside our home right now,” Jessie replied irritably before she could stop herself.
She considered apologizing for the harshness of her words but then decided not to. Ryan had told her that Brady could handle this. She needed to know he wasn’t wrong.
“I’ll check in with him now,” Ryan said softly. “I’ll update you with anything worthwhile.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t be pissed,” he pleaded.
“Don’t tell me how to feel, Ryan,” she replied, not ready to forgive him yet. “This is my sister. I’m not going to feel bad about prioritizing her safety.”
“I’m not suggesting you should.”
A woman that Jessie assumed was Caroline Ryan walked up to the Froman’s gate and began to unlock it. She looked to be about Jessie’s age, maybe a couple of years younger. For a woman who ran an ‘80s-themed clothing store, she was dressed blandly, in blue jeans and a gray sweater.
Her red hair was pulled back in a ponytail and she had on a layer of white-tinted foundation that made her appear ghostly. There was an intensity to her manner that seemed at odds with everything around her. Jessie wondered what had her so uptight, though she could hazard a guess.
“I’ve got to go,” she told him. “My interview subject just showed up. Please let me know what you learn.”
“Of course,” he said. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” she said, doing her best to set aside her irritation with him. She already had enough relationships in chaos. She didn’t need one more.
After hanging up, she got out of the car and glanced across the street. Reid was paying for his doughnut. She decided not to wait and walked over to the store. She was a few paces from Caroline when the woman whipped around. Her eyes were wide with fear and she was pointing something at Jessie. It took a second to process that it was pepper spray.
“Easy, Caroline,” Jessie said slowly, holding her hands out in front of her. “I don’t think you want to start your day by assaulting a member of the law enforcement community.”
“Who the hell are you?”
Jessie kept her hands up and took a small step back to stay out of spray range.
“My name’s Jessie Hunt. I’m a criminal profiler working with the Los Angeles Police Department. I’m investigating the murders of Jax Coopersmith and Claire Bender. We’re talking to all their friends and family. I just have a few questions for you.”
Caroline still seemed dubious, and the spray can hadn’t been lowered.
“Drop your arm!” a loud voice bellowed from somewhere behind Jessie.
Though she couldn’t see him, she knew it was Callum Reid. The terrified look on Caroline’s face told Jessie that he’d probably pulled his gun. Glancing behind her, she saw that she was right. He was aiming the weapon directly at the woman’s chest.
“Caroline,” she said calmly. “That’s Detective Callum Reid. We’re partners on this case. And cops don’t like to see people pointing chemical sprays at their partners. So I think you’d be well advised to lower your arm as he instructed.”
“How do I know that you’re legit?” Caroline demanded, self-doubt creeping in even as her arm, which was now shaking, stayed up. “How do I know you’re not planning to inject me with something and leave me to die?”
For the first time, Jessie got just how sacred this woman must be. Two friends of hers had been killed in the last thirty-six hours. She was paranoid that she was next.
“I understand your concerns,” Jessie said in her most reassuring voice. “And you’re right to be on edge. I don’t blame you for having an itchy trigger finger. But we’re on a public sidewalk in the middle of the day. I think you can rein it in a little bit. We’re both happy to show you our IDs once you put that can down. You can call the department to check Detective Reid’s badge number if you like. But you can’t keep pointing that thing at me. Okay?”
She could see Caroline’s resolve fading. After another few seconds, she lowered her arm. Once she did, Reid holstered his weapon and pulled out his badge and ID. Jessie did the same with her ID placard.
“I can read off my badge number if you want to call it in,” the detective offered, doing his best to keep the gruffness out of his tone.
“No, that’s okay,” Caroline said, after peering at both their IDs and studying Jessie’s face. “Now that I’ve had a second, I recognize you. You’re the serial killer catcher.”
“That’s right,” Jessie agreed, not in the mood to unpack that title. “May we come in?”
The woman nodded and unlocked the gate and the front door. Jessie and Reid waited just inside while Caroline turned on the lights. Jessie looked around the place. Allison Standish hadn’t been kidding.
The boutique was small but not a foot of space was wasted. One clothing rack was packed with Pretty in Pink-style attire, complete with a dress that looked like the one Molly Ringwald wore to the prom. Another had dozens of Ferris Bueller-style sweater vests. On top of the rack was a collection of berets. A third rack had surf shirts that looked like they had been taken straight out of Jeff Spicoli’s closet in Fast Times at Ridgemont High.
A full third of the store was dedicated to New Wave fashion, including rows of leather pants and neon tops. It looked like someone had raided the wardrobe trailer for a Flock of Seagulls music video. An entire section of one wall was dedicated exclusively to scrunchies.
“Mind if I prep the store while we talk?” Caroline asked, walking over.
“Sure,” Jessie replied, having trouble ripping her eyes away from the merchandise. “Let’s start by discussing why you were so on edge outside. Had you been threatened or was it just because of what happened to your friends?”
“No, I wasn’t threatened,” Caroline said, as she set up spotlights to highlight particular items spread out on small tables throughout the store. “But when two friends are killed within a day of each other, it’s pretty freaky. Can you blame me for being nervous?”
“Not at all,” Jessie said. “Did you ever hear of either of them being threatened?”
Caroline shook her head.
“No. They both seemed fine. As far as I could tell, any stress they had came from their lives being so full of good stuff, not a fear of bad stuff.”
Reid joined in for the first time.
“I understand that you weren’t just friends. You were all in each other’s weddings as well?”
“That’s the other thing,” Caroline said. “Claire was married recently. Jax was supposed to be soon. My wedding is coming up. We were all in each other’s wedding parties. It was just weird that this happened to them. I wondered if there might be a connection.”
“Might there be?” Jessie wondered.
“I don’t know,” Caroline said. “We’re all getting married at different venues. But we have the same wedding planner, and she uses a bunch of the same vendors for her events. And like you said, there’s a lot of overlap among the bridal parties. Jax and I were bridesmaids for Claire. Claire and I were both going to do the same for Jax and they were going to be in mine. Some of the groomsmen are in more than one too. Like, my fiancé, Brian, was going to be one of Titus’s groomsmen.”
Jessie wondered how much of these wedding party choices were made just out of obligation and how much was true friendship.
“So everyone mixed and matched?” she asked.
“Not totally,” Caroline corrected as she broke open a box of what appeared to replicas of Lloyd Dobler’s brown trench coat from Say Anything…”Like, Jack Bender wasn’t going to be a groomsman for Titus.”
“Why not?” Jessie asked.
“I’m not sure. I guess they just weren’t that tight; more friendly because their significant others were close.”
“You didn’t mention Allison Standish,” Reid pointed out. “She was the maid of honor for both women. Is she going to be for you too?”
Caroline looked aghast at the idea.
“No way,” she insisted. “She’s not in my wedding party at all. I know the other girls liked her because she’s a walking id. They felt like she’d lighten the stress levels. But I mostly just tolerate her. Besides, I don’t want to spend my wedding listening to her complain about how she can’t find a man.”
“Is that a recurring thing?” Jessie asked.
“Oh god, are you kidding? It never ends with her. If she’s not complaining about her relationship status, she’s upset that her career hasn’t taken off. It’s exhausting.”
“She must have been jealous of how well things were going for Claire and Jax,” Reid offered leadingly.
“That’s the understatement of the year,” Caroline replied, finding a hanger for one of the Dobler coats.
Jessie could tell that the comment made an impression on Reid, who scribbled a note on his pad. She agreed that it was suspicious but wasn’t as excited. Allison had already admitted to being jealous. And her alibi for last night, if verified, sounded pretty airtight. Speaking of alibis, it was time to get Caroline’s.
“Where were you on Saturday and last night?” she asked directly.
“Saturday I went to a dinner and movie with my fiancé,” she answered without missing a beat. “Last night I was home going over store inventory. Exciting stuff, right?”
“Were you alone?” Jessie pressed.
“Most of the night, yeah. Brian was at a friend’s place watching a football game. He’s in the middle of a lawsuit so that’s the only real down time he gets all week. I didn’t want to take that away from him. But I waited up for him because I was scared to go to bed after what happened to Claire the night before.”
“What time did he get back?” Reid asked.
“I’m not sure,” she said. “Maybe around ten something? I remember falling asleep before 11 for sure.”
Reid looked over at Jessie to see if she had any more questions for now. She couldn’t think of any.
“Okay, Ms. Ryan,” Reid said. “We’ll be in touch. In the meantime, I recommend that you be careful. Both these attacks took place in your friends’ homes. For the next few days, I’d sugg
est no working late for you or your fiancé. Enter and leave the house together. Stay in regular touch with friends and family. Keeps your doors locked. Understood?”
Caroline nodded, now looking more scared than when she’d first pulled the pepper spray on Jessie.
“Don’t worry,” Jessie said. “We’ll get to the bottom of this. My hope is that by the time of your wedding, the perpetrator will be long locked away.”
“Thanks,” Caroline said, fighting back tears. “I’m just sorry that Jax won’t get to have hers. She was supposed to have already been married by now.”
Something about the comment made Jessie’s back straighten up.
“You know,” she noted, “Allison mentioned something about that as well. She said that Jax and Titus pushed their wedding back a few months. Do you know why?”
Caroline looked hesitant to answer and seemed to be trying to form an appropriate response.
“I don’t,” she finally said. “They told everyone it was because they were so busy that they’d fallen behind in the planning and just needed more time.”
“But you didn’t believe that?” Jessie said more than asked.
“There was gossip. I don’t know what made them push it, but the planning explanation never made a lot of sense to me. Jax and Titus are two of the most organized people I’ve ever met. With their jobs, they have to be to keep their heads above water. They would look months ahead on their calendar to book date nights. The idea that they couldn’t square away their wedding, especially when they had a professional planner helping them, never sounded legit to me. But I’m not the type to butt into other people’s personal business so I left it alone.”
Jessie nodded, already lost in thought as Reid thanked Caroline for her time. Her mind was darting in multiple different directions. She didn’t have any hard evidence, but her instincts were telling her to follow this lead. Earlier, something had made her wonder if Jax Coopersmith’s life was as perfect as it seemed. The wedding delay only reinforced her doubt.
“So I’m guessing that after hearing that,” Reid said as they returned to his car, “you want to talk to the significant other again. Shall we make a return visit to see Titus Poole?”