by Blake Pierce
For a second, the younger woman looked like she wanted to deck Jessie. But before she could react, someone behind her spoke.
“Everyone okay in here?” Murph asked, stepping into view. His tone was casual but Jessie could see that he was tense with anticipation.
“This woman is invading my boss’s private space!” Matilda griped.
Murph nodded understandingly.
“She can be a bit intrusive,” he said soothingly. “Why don’t we all go downstairs and work it out together.”
Matilda continued to stare angrily at Jessie. But after a few moments she seemed to regain her senses. She gave one last dirty look, then spun on her heel and muttered, “Follow me.”
Once downstairs, Jessie headed right for Collison, who was still sitting on the couch, happily chatting with Dolan. She stomped toward him and stopped inches from his face.
“Stand up,” she ordered.
“What the …?” he started, a confused look on his face.
“Stand up now or I will stand you up,” she instructed through gritted teeth.
“I’d do what she suggests,” Dolan said, slightly amused.
Murph, on the other hand, didn’t look amused at all. Though he didn’t step forward or say anything, his right hand was hovering over his sidearm and his body was taut, ready to spring into action.
Collison stood up. Jessie grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back, pulling out her handcuffs and snapping them onto his wrists in one fluid motion.
“What is going on?” Collison demanded. “What did I do?”
Matilda stepped forward.
“She found some room behind your closet and now she’s freaking out about it.”
“Yeah, Jett,” Jessie agreed. “I’m freaking out. Can you guess why?”
Collison’s face turned bright red.
“I can explain,” he stammered. “It’s not what it seems. I mean, it is. But not in a creepy way.”
“You have Claire Stanton’s hair in a plastic bin, dude,” Jessie reminded him. “It doesn’t get creepier than that.”
She shoved him down the hall ahead of her before turning back and calling out to Dolan.
“Don’t let his lackey out of our sight. And call Malibu PD. They should bring their CSU too. There’s a piece of clothing that might have blood on it.”
Without waiting for a response, she turned around to continue “escorting” Collison out of the house.
*
Jessie waited for someone to call her out.
They were driving back to Central Station. A Malibu PD black-and-white was following them with Collison in the backseat. Their CSU was processing the hidden room. As they’d driven off, Matilda had yelled out to Jett not to say anything. Apparently, in addition to her Perrier-getting skills, she was now an amateur lawyer too.
Having had an hour to calm down, Jessie knew she’d probably overreacted and let her frustration boil over. Part of it was legitimately directed at a guy who may have killed a young woman. But even as she was shoving him ahead of her to the front of the house, some part of her knew this was also misplaced, formless anger about Ryan getting stabbed.
She was helpless to do anything for him. But she could do this. The problem was that by storming out and taking Collison into custody, she’d lost the element of surprise. She could have had Murph keep Matilda away while she peppered the actor with questions about the keepsakes he didn’t know she’d found. But now that option was out, he’d be on guard.
They were halfway back to the station when Dolan finally spoke.
“You know,” he said, looking straight ahead, “you and your father aren’t that different.”
She turned to face him, not sure she had heard him correctly.
“What in the goddamn hell do you mean by that?” she demanded.
“I don’t mean it as a dig. It’s just an observation. You are both relentless in pursuing your goals. In your case, the goal is Claire’s killer. In his case, it’s you. You both use stealthy techniques to achieve those goals until you determine that a full-on frontal assault is more effective. And you both have terrible impulse control. In your case, that manifests as recklessly arresting a movie star. And in his case, it manifests as murdering people. But you get my point.”
She stared at him for a full five seconds before responding.
“No, I do not get your point. I am aggressively pursuing a killer, no different than you or any other hard-charging investigator would. Xander Thurman tortures and kills people for fun. I’d say that makes us pretty different, Agent Dolan.”
“Well, it’s obviously not a perfect comparison,” he admitted. “I’m just saying, I can see how you two are related. You both have an intense work ethic, even if his is a little less…evolved.”
“I swear to god, if I didn’t think I’d get arrested, I would frickin’ punch you in the face right now.”
“See what I mean about that impulse control?” he said, a smile playing at the edges of his mouth.
Jessie looked out the window. She knew he was screwing with her, trying to lighten the mood a bit after what had been an intense stretch. But she sensed that he still meant what he said, at least a little bit. And because his comment played into her worst fear about herself, it hit her much harder than she knew it was intended to.
She closed her eyes and whispered a familiar mantra to herself.
I am nothing like my father. I am nothing like my father.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Jett Collison did not take Matilda’s advice.
After his Miranda rights were read to him, he agreed to talk to Jessie and Dolan without his attorney present. As he settled into a chair in the small conference room, it was clear that he thought he could win them over.
“Let’s start with the shrine,” Dolan said, beginning the questioning so that Collison wasn’t immediately confronted again by Jessie. “What’s up with that, Jett?”
“Okay,” Collison replied, adjusting his glasses as he spoke. “It’s like I tried to tell you before, it’s not as bad as it looks.”
“It looks pretty bad,” Dolan said.
“You can ask Claire. Maybe I kept a few things to remind me of our time together. But I never harassed her or anything. I’m not a stalker.”
“What are you then?” Dolan followed up.
“Like I said, I really liked her. I was through with other girls. I was planning to dump that actress I wasn’t even really dating. Everyone close to me told me I was making a mistake. Matilda said I was crazy. But I didn’t care. So last week I bought a ring and I proposed.”
“You asked Claire to marry you?” Jessie asked, incredulous. “What did she say?”
“She said no. She said she wasn’t looking to settle down and that it would be weird to go out after that, so she dumped me.”
“How did that make you feel?” Jessie asked.
“I was really hurt,” he admitted. “I mean, I guess I should have known that she wasn’t into that. After all, every guy from that site is rich or powerful. If she had wanted to get married, she had lots of options. But part of me thought she’d see me differently. I’m young. And I guess I thought being famous might make a difference. But she didn’t care about that.”
“So what did you do when she dumped you?” Dolan asked.
“I used it in my art, man,” he replied intently. “I poured all of my heartache into my latest performance. I think I really have a shot at some nominations for this film.”
“What’s it called?” Dolan asked.
“I.T. Guy. It’s about this nerdy internet technology employee who wins the heart of his CEO’s daughter.”
“Sounds like a winner,” Jessie said, keeping her comment sarcasm-free. “But are you telling us that her rejection never backed up on you? You just moved on? And remember, Dolan over there is an FBI agent. Lying to him is a federal crime. So think before you reply.”
Jett seemed to do exactly that, weighing his next words carefully.
“Listen, I’m not saying I handled everything perfectly—obviously not. I mean, you found the tub of hair. There was the photo album, although I’d bet there are a lot of people who collect photos of their exes.”
“Including naked ones taken without her knowledge kept in a secret room?” Jessie wondered.
“Okay, that part doesn’t look great, I admit. But I wasn’t thinking clearly at the time. I was super messed up, emotions-wise. I’m sure you’ll find other stuff too. I’ll confess to you right now that I found out she had gone out with an executive at a studio I’ve worked for and I told them I’d never make another movie there unless they fired him. I mean, that clearly wasn’t cool. But it’s not stalker-y.”
“Yeah, it kind of is,” countered Jessie.
“Did Claire press charges or something? Is she complaining? Because I don’t think she even knows about any of this stuff.”
“Not even the scarf with her blood on it?” Dolan asked, notably ignoring Collison’s question.
“Blood?” Collison repeated, stunned. “That’s not blood. It’s lipstick. She got it on her scarf and said it was ruined so she tossed it out. I kept part of it, sure. But it’s not blood.”
Jessie and Dolan looked at each other. That claim would be verified or disproven soon. But Collison was looking less viable as a suspect with each passing second.
“Why did you think it was blood?” he asked, his voice rising. “Has something happened to her?”
Jessie could sense they were losing him and tried to get in one last question that had been eating at her before he completely lost it.
“Jett,” she said firmly, “you said Matilda thought you were crazy to propose to Claire. Did she seem upset about it?”
“I don’t know,” Jett said answered, increasingly agitated. “I don’t really pay attention to my assistant’s moods. You didn’t answer my question—has something happened to Claire?”
They couldn’t stall any longer and Jessie was curious to see Jett’s reaction when they told him information he theoretically didn’t already know. She glanced over at Dolan, who nodded slightly, giving her the go-ahead.
“She’s dead, Jett,” she said flatly. “She was murdered.”
“What? No!”
His brow was furrowed as if he’d just been asked a tough math question he couldn’t answer. He looked from her to Dolan, who nodded in confirmation. He looked back at Jessie, as if hoping she might change her mind.
“For real?” he asked plaintively.
“For real,” Jessie assured him, still unable to tell whether he was sincere or not. Forget I.T. Guy. If he was faking it, this was easily his best performance.
“When?”
“The night before last,” she said. “That’s why Agent Dolan was asking you where you were then. And I noticed from his notes you didn’t have a very good answer.”
“You think I did this?” Collison asked, his eyes wide.
“We’re trying to eliminate you as a suspect, Jett,” she said supportively. “But it’s hard when, according to the notes I’m reading, you say that two nights ago you forgot your phone at the studio and hitchhiked back to get it because your car broke down.”
“But it’s true. The studio usually assigns me a driver. But by the time I realized I’d left my phone there, he was gone. And I don’t drive much so I didn’t know my car battery had died.”
“But you see the problem, Jett,” she said calmly. “We can’t trace your whereabouts using your vehicle because you didn’t drive it. You didn’t rideshare so we can’t track that either.”
“How was I supposed to call a Lyft without my phone?” he interrupted.
“But you didn’t call a cab either, which would have made sense. You hitched a ride into town from Malibu?”
“I used to do it all the time before I got famous. And a cab would have taken forever to get to my place.”
“But that means no one can vouch for you. Why didn’t you ask Matilda? I’m sure she would have driven you.”
“It was her night off. She lives in Culver City. I didn’t want to bother her to come all the way out to get me in Malibu and take me into Hollywood. That would have taken her hours.”
“Very thoughtful of you,” Jessie said. “So to review, we can’t use your phone to locate you because you left it at work. We can’t track your vehicle because you didn’t use it. You took an unverifiable method of transit to get your phone. That means that you were off the grid for about two hours, including the window when Claire was murdered.”
“It’s just a terrible coincidence,” he insisted.
“Maybe,” she said.
“It’s true. Can’t you check video cameras?”
“What, you mean all the security cameras the city posts on random, unpopulated stretches of the Pacific coastline? That’s not a thing, Jett.”
He looked like he wanted to reply but then stopped. He was at a loss. It didn’t matter because just then Decker poked his head in.
“Can I speak to you two?” he asked Jessie and Dolan.
“Sure,” she said and then to Collison, “stay put.”
“Where am I gonna go?” he moaned.
Jessie almost chuckled as she walked to the door. She didn’t know if this guy was guilty but she was enjoying tying him in knots. When she, Dolan, and Murph stepped out into the hall, the expression on Decker’s face told her she needed to get serious.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Preliminary results came back on the scarf. The red mark was lipstick. You have to cut Collison loose.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Jessie wasn’t shocked.
Each new piece of information had made her less and less confident that the actor was their guy. And despite crushing him moments ago for his total lack of an alibi, she just couldn’t bring herself to buy that he was the perpetrator of this crime.
To her surprise, Decker disagreed.
“We’re going to have him tailed once he gets out,” he said with an edge in his voice. “We can’t keep him any more without causing a meltdown at headquarters. But if he makes a mistake when he’s out, we’ll be all over it.”
“You really think he’s our guy?” Jessie asked, thrown by his certainty.
“Hunt, I may not be a profiler. But the guy had a secret shrine to a woman he’d just proposed to, a woman who turned him down. And he has no alibi for the time of death. I mean, he literally cannot provide a scintilla of proof of his whereabouts. This guy isn’t getting off scot-free just because his smile makes people weak in the knees. Celebrity is not a passport to criminality.”
“It kind of seems like it is,” Dolan said drily.
Decker had to take a deep breath to keep his cool at the FBI agent’s snarky comment.
“Look, the powers that be don’t want a lawsuit if this guy ends up being innocent. And truthfully, I’m happy to avoid the media attention as long as possible. It protects the investigation. And it protects Hunt. Once word gets out that Jett Collision was arrested, how long after that do you think it will be before her name leaks too? That’s the last thing we need.”
“I’m with the captain on that one,” Murph added quietly.
Decker seemed happy to have the support.
“If this guy is guilty, he’s going down, no matter who he is,” he said. “So let him go. But don’t stop looking. We’re one more piece of evidence away from re-arresting him. If we take him down, I want it to be airtight.”
“Yes sir,” Jessie said as he walked off.
She turned to Dolan, who looked as skeptical as she felt.
“I get equal justice for everyone,” she said to him when the captain was out of earshot. “But the question is: do we actually think he’s guilty?”
Dolan sighed heavily.
“I don’t know, Hunt. On paper, this guy is a slam dunk, based on everything the captain just said. But my gut says he doesn’t feel right.”
“Me either,” she agreed before a
dding, “Of course, sometimes my gut gets me in trouble. I’m trying to rely less on it and more on the evidence.”
Murph, silent as usual beside them, perked up suddenly. He turned away and spoke into his comm. Dolan, who hadn’t noticed, replied.
“I don’t know. In my experience, for people like us, the evidence is secondary. We solve cases based on our ability to read people. I know that’s counter to all the training. But I think it’s true. When it comes down to proof or gut, I’ll go with what’s in my hairy belly every time.”
Murph waved at Jessie to get her attention.
“You’ve got a call,” he said. “It’s from Detective Hernandez. It’s being patched through to my phone. You can take it in the closet across the way.”
Jessie looked at Dolan.
“You mind?” she asked.
“Of course not,” he said. “I’ll coordinate letting Collison out and see what Decker has planned in the way of surveillance.”
“Okay,” she agreed. “When I get back, I think we should go back to the drawing board. We can’t pursue this guy more aggressively without something firm to connect him. So we should go back through the other texts from clients on the site to see if we missed anything.”
“That sounds fun.”
“It’s what my gut recommends,” she said.
“I’ve got Hernandez on the line,” Murph interrupted, handing her the phone.
She took it, stepped into the small closet that was becoming her second office, and pretended not to notice the butterflies flitting around in her stomach.
She’d managed to successfully force Ryan from her mind while investigating Collison. But now, with him conscious and ready to talk, all her confused emotions reared up again. She put the phone to her ear and spoke.
“I can’t leave you alone for a second,” she said, feigning anger.