Never Girl

by Ana Valen

  “Yes. But I want to conduct my own investigation.”

  “Why is that?”

  “I have my reasons. And if it’s okay, I would like to keep them to myself.”

  “Perfectly fine. And I do want to help. Unfortunately, we’re not in the business of crime investigation.”

  “Right. But I heard you were involved in other forms of business—business that’s related.”

  “Whatever do you mean?”

  She cleared her throat. “Business that relates to criminal activity.”

  Kovalenko leaned back. “I’m afraid you are misinformed. I am involved in the clothing business. This warehouse receives and distributes men’s apparel.”

  “Sorry. I was led to believe otherwise.”

  “No need to apologize. And out of curiosity, what is your answer to my question? The one you shied away from?”

  “Why I want to conduct my own investigation?”

  He nodded.

  “Because—”

  He raised a finger. “Don’t answer just yet. First, let me ask you one more time.”

  She hesitated. “You want to ask me the same question?”

  “Yes. If you don’t mind.”

  “No. I don’t mind.”

  He smiled, got up, and came around the desk. As he approached her, her heartrate increased. Was he going to knock her over? Her heartrate skyrocketed when he gripped her chair’s armrests and essentially straddled her. Then her heart nearly exploded when he moved his face inches from hers.

  “Now,” he said, looking deep into her eyes. “I am going to ask you one more time. And if I think you are lying, I will have Igor slice your throat and place you inside of vat of acid. However, I won’t tell you which comes first. So why do you want to conduct your own investigation?”

  While breathing hard through her nose, she looked at Igor. He remained standing there, his massive hands still clasped to his front.

  “Look at me,” Kovalenko cautioned. “Look at me.”

  She refocused on him.

  “If you turn away once more, the acid will come first. Now let’s hear your response.”

  “I—I—” She couldn’t continue no matter how hard she tried. Then she remembered why she was here, along with how much her success mattered. With her resolve strengthened, she tightened her face. “I want someone to find out what happened, because with that information, I’m going to punish the person responsible.”

  Kovalenko hovered there a second longer. Without warning, he cast an enormous smile. “Excellent!”

  He leaned up, walked back around his desk, and plopped himself down. She on the other hand struggled to keep her composure. That wasn’t easy with tension now flooding from her body.

  “I figured that was the reason,” Kovalenko cheerily continued. “Revenge for a fallen family member. Makes perfect sense. Of course, I would never engage in such activity. But I’m a businessman. My concern is the bottom line.” He waved himself off. “Bagh. We’re not here for me.” He rested his hands in his lap. “Oh, and I was lying earlier. I do engage in criminal activity, including murder. To that end, I have someone who could help you.”

  “A hitman?”

  “No, no, no. That term does not apply to this person.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I know hitmen. In fact, I used to be one.” Kovalenko gestured towards the bodyguard. “Igor used to be one too. But we are not like this man.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, if Igor or myself sliced your throat, then tossed you into a vat of acid, we would take great pleasure in this. This man would not. He would not feel a single thing.”

  “That’s impossible.”

  “That’s what I thought. But when this man started working for me, I noticed something about him. He does not feel. That is particularly frightening, though you would not think so. You would think than an emotionless person is someone you can feel calm around. Not true. He is someone who would kill you instantly—” Kovalenko snapped his fingers— “as if he were squishing an ant. And his eyes. When you see his empty brown eyes… Goodness gracious.”

  Claire bit her lip. Goddamn. If Kovalenko feared this person, how would she fare around him?

  “Alright,” she responded all the same. “I’ll meet this person. Do you have a piece of paper?”

  “What for?”

  “So you can take down my number.”

  “Bagh. No need. We already have your cellphone number, your email address, your home address—yadda, yadda.”

  She looked down. Shit.

  “The only thing left,” Kovalenko continued, “is agreeing to the price. How does thirty-thousand sound?”

  She refocused. “Yeah. That’s fine.”

  “Wonderful. I’ll set up the meeting. Afterward, I’ll contact you with the details.”

  “Okay.” She got to her feet. “Thank you.”

  He likewise rose. “You’re very welcome.”

  She turned and made her way out.

  Back in the hallway, she encountered the same suited men as before. Unlike before, they now looked in her direction. With her nerves buzzing, she hurried down the corridor, needing to escape their suffocating stares.

  Outside of the warehouse, she hustled to her Acura and climbed aboard.

  Yeah. This was a mistake. She should have never gotten involved with these people. Actually, she should report this to Raven. Or why not simply ask Raven for an update? If the investigation was heading in a favorable direction, she could cancel the hitman.

  She pulled her mobile and brought up Raven’s contact information. She needed this update sooner rather than later. That way, she would know if she would be meeting an emotionless killer.

  Chapter 10

  Raven and Adams drove west on Montana while heading towards Susan Wright’s Brentwood home. Like always, Raven piloted their cruiser and Adams rode shotgun.

  “Nice area,” Raven commented, eyeing the elegant homes on either side of the road.

  “Agreed,” Adams said. “What does Susan do for a living?”

  “No clue.”

  To their right, the elegant homes gave way to a country club.

  “According to her Facebook posts,” Raven continued, “she recently graduated from college.”

  “She just graduated and she lives here?”

  “Maybe she comes from money.”

  “Maybe.”

  They arrived at Susan’s residence, and Raven parked by the country club. With the engine off, she and Adams exited, opened their backseats, and grabbed their jackets. They slipped them on while crossing the street.

  Raven’s mobile buzzed. She pulled the device and saw that Claire was calling.

  “Hang on,” she told Adams. She turned away and answered. “Yeah?”

  “Hey,” Claire replied. “Do you have a minute?”

  “Not exactly. I’m about to meet someone. Can I call you back?”

  “This is important.”

  “I believe you. But I’m with my partner and we’re outside of the person’s home.”

  “Please. I need to know where the investigation stands.”

  Raven eased away from Adams. “That might change depending on this meeting.”

  “Are you meeting with Susan?”

  “Yeah.”

  Claire took an annoyed breath. “Okay. Call me back immediately after. I really need to know where things stand.”

  Raven paused. Why was Claire so worked up? “Don’t worry. I’ll call you right back.”

  “Okay. Thanks.”

  Raven disconnected, slipped her phone into her pocket, and started back towards her partner.

  “Everything alright?” he asked.

  “Yeah. That was one of my CI’s.”

  He nodded and they started up the driveway.

  “So,” she went on, “how should we play this?”

  “I’ll start thing off. You come in afterwards.”

  “So good cop, bad cop?”


  “No. Ignorant cop, knowledgeable cop. I don’t know anything about Susan, so she’ll assume we’re both in the dark. If she becomes evasive, corner her with your knowledge.”

  “That sounds an awful lot like good cop, bad cop.”

  He grumbled as they reached the front door.

  “What?” she asked. “It works. Especially with us. Probably because people expect you to be the hard ass, and me to be the softie.”

  He remained quiet, but some begrudging acknowledgement was clearly there. She grinned at this. She removed the gesture when he knocked. A moment later, soft feet approached.

  “Can I help you?” asked a female from behind the door.

  “Ms. Wright?” Adams said.

  “Yes?”

  “My name is Detective David Adams. I’m here with my partner, Detective Stacey Raven. We’re with the LAPD, and we’re investigating the case of Jessie Jacobson. Can we have a moment?”

  The door unlocked and opened, revealing a petite woman. She was five-foot-five, young, and maybe one-hundred and ten pounds. She was also quite attractive with flowing chestnut hair, soft features, and urban-chic clothes.

  “Who did this to him?” Susan asked, her voice already breaking.

  “That’s what we’re trying to find out,” Adams said. “Can we speak inside?”

  Susan nodded and gave them some room.

  Raven and Adams entered, and Susan closed the door. After Susan locked it, she started for the living room. Raven and Adams followed her.

  Raven looked around while walking. Just like Susan, the home’s interior was urban-chic. The only thing missing was trendy west siders, all of them dressed in designer clothing and clutching chardonnays.

  “Please,” Susan said, gesturing towards her suede couches. “Have a seat.”

  “Thank you,” Adams replied.

  Adams sat on the long couch, and Raven sat beside him. Susan sat on the love seat.

  “Nice place,” Raven commented.

  “Thanks.”

  “And this neighborhood,” Raven continued. “Wow. I’m betting this home cost a pretty penny.”

  “It wasn’t exactly cheap.”

  “I can imagine.”

  “Well,” Adams started, “like I said, we’re investigating the death of Jessie Jacobson. I’m sure this topic is difficult for you, but we were hoping you could assist us.”

  Susan swallowed. “Was he really shot?”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  Susan looked up and fought back tears. After a moment, she refocused. “Why?”

  “We’re not sure. At first glance, it seemed like a robbery. But there might be more to it. That’s why we want to speak with Jessie’s associates. Maybe they can help us understand what happened.” He pulled a pen and notepad. “I heard you two were in a relationship?”

  Raven kept her notepad put away. She merely observed Susan.

  “Yeah,” Susan said. “We were together for about a year.”

  “How long have you know each other?”

  “Not much longer than that. We started dating soon after we met.”

  “Where did you meet?”

  “At our university.”

  “You went to school together?”

  “No. We attended the same law school program, but he graduated years ago. When my cohort graduated, some of the alumni came to congratulate us. That’s how we met.”

  “What university?”

  “USC.”

  Raven arched her brow. “USC? Impressive.”

  “Thanks.”

  “So after that meeting,” Adams continued, “you two were in a committed relationship?”

  Susan smirked. “If you think that’s fast, I’m pregnant.”

  Adams stopped scribbling and looked up. “Really?”

  Susan nodded. “Three months. The pregnancy wasn’t planned, but we didn’t care. From the moment we met, we knew we were perfect for each other. And that’s crazy, because I never believed in love at first sight. But with Jessie, it actually happened. It was insane how much I fell for him. And he felt the same towards me.”

  “Sounds magical,” Raven said. “But can you be more specific?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You mentioned generalities—love, perfection, stuff like that. Can you be more specific? Was it looks, personality, taste in music?”

  “I guess everything. At first, we bonded over our educational interests. But the more we learned about each other, the more we clicked. Everything just matched up.”

  “Did that include money?”

  Susan hesitated. “What?”

  “Money. Was that also a factor?”

  Susan stayed quiet, her brow slightly furrowed.

  “No need to be coy,” Raven said. “I can tell you’re a good person. I know you value the important things in life. But money matters, even though people don’t like to admit that.” She looked around. “And you’re clearly not lacking for money.”

  “I guess that matched up too. It’s not like one of us was poor and the other was rich.”

  Raven refocused on her. “And where did your wealth come from?”

  “My parents.”

  “Did they cover your tuition?”

  Susan nodded.

  “And this home?”

  Another nod.

  “Wow,” Raven said. “Have you paid for anything?”

  Susan clasped her hands to her front. “Not yet. But I’m about to start. I just got a paid internship at a law firm.”

  “How much does it pay ?”

  Susan hesitated. “Forty-thousand a year.”

  “Forty-thousand a year?”

  “I know that’s not a lot. That’s why my parents are still helping me. But again, that won’t be much longer. Once I pass my internship, I’ll be an associate. Associates start at one-hundred-and-twenty thousand.”

  “That’s more like it. Still, that’s not a lot for Brentwood.”

  Susan huffed out air. “I don’t understand the point of these questions.”

  “Do you know how much money Jessie got from his inheritance?”

  Susan parted her thin lips.

  “Do you?” Raven pressed.

  “You—you think I was involved?”

  “No. I’m just asking if you knew that Jessie inherited two-and-a-half million dollars.”

  “Yes. I knew about that.” Susan looked at Adams who took more notes. She looked back to Raven. “I loved him. I loved Jessie.”

  “Right. Love at first sight. We got that.”

  “But you don’t believe me.” Susan scooted forward. “We were going to get married. We were going to have a family. We were going to spend the rest of our lives together. Why the fuck would I kill him? For money? I don’t need money. I can live off my family’s money for the rest of my life. I wanted happiness. And I found that with him. That happiness was going to—” She grimaced and reached for her stomach.

  “You okay?” Adams asked.

  “I’m fine,” Susan choked. “I think.”

  “You think?” he followed.

  “Ever since Jessie’s death, I’ve been getting stomach pains.”

  “Have you seen a doctor?”

  “Yeah. He said it was from stress, and that I need to take it easy. But how can I?”

  Adams closed his notepad. “I’m sorry to have made things harder. But like I said, we just want to find out what happened.”

  “I know.” Susan moved her hand to her leg and took a few breaths. She then looked to Raven. “And I know this looks bad—Jessie receiving his inheritance, then us getting together, and him getting killed. But I honestly loved him. I didn’t want anything to happen to him. I’m having his baby, for God’s sake. We were going to—” She again reached for her midsection.

  “Ms. Wright,” Raven followed, “thank you for your time.”

  “Okay,” Susan said through labored breaths. She made to rise.

  “No, no,” Adams followed, extending h
is hand. “Sit there and relax. We’ll see ourselves out.”

  “Thank you. And I’m sorry I couldn’t be more helpful.”

  “You helped plenty,” Raven said. “If we need anything else, we’ll reach out.”

  She and Adams stood and started for the door.

  Outside of the home, they crossed the street and headed for the car.

  “Well?” Adams said.

  “Either she’s the greatest actress in the world, or she wasn’t involved.”

  “I’m leaning towards the latter. She seems too soft to be involved. Besides, if she wanted Jessie’s money, why kill him before they were married? That would make it harder to collect.”

  “Good point. So back to our robbery/homicide theory?” She unlocked the car, opened her door, but paused when Adams stood there. “What?” she asked over the roof.

  “It’s nagging at me—the robbery/homicide theory. It doesn’t feel right.”

  “We don’t agree on much, but I’ll agree with you there. I think this was an inside job. I think someone lured Jessie there and took him out—someone close.”

  Adams rolled his jaw. “I’m not quite there yet. But I’m not ruling that out. Come on.” He opened his door. “We’ll keep going through the evidence, and keep conducting interviews.” He climbed inside.

  Raven made to enter as well, but she paused once more. “Hang on,” she told Adams. She pulled her cellphone and dialed Claire.

  “Well?” Claire answered.

  “Not good. Susan was a dead end.”

  “So where does that leave things?”

  “Back to where we started.”

  “You mean Jessie being killed in a robbery?”

  “No. I already told you that I don’t think that happened. I think this was a targeted killing. And now my partner is coming around to this idea.”

  “Fuck,” Claire muttered.

  “What? Why are you so agitated?”

  “Why do you think? If Susan was a dead end, that means you don’t have any more suspects.”

  “Not at the moment. But Susan isn’t the only person we can look into.”

  No answer.

  “Claire?”

  “Just keep me updated.” Claire hung up.

  Raven lowered her phone and looked at it. What was up with her? Unsure, she put away her phone, climbed into the car, and closed the door. She then fire up the engine. Time to see what their evidence said.