The Perfect Lie. Блейк Пирс

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СКАЧАТЬ can recommend someone if…”Jessie started to offer.

      “Thank you but I’m all set actually,” he interrupted. “Decker finally ordered me to see someone—said I was in danger of not coming back at all if I didn’t get my shit together. So I did. And it helped. But by then, it had been about six weeks since the attack and it felt weird to just call you out of the blue. And to be honest, I wasn’t 100% sure I was okay…psychologically, and I didn’t want to lose it while talking to you seriously for the first time after we both almost died. So I pushed it off some more. And then there’s the other thing.”

      “What other thing?”

      “You know, our whole ‘friendly co-workers but also friends who sometimes get awkward because maybe there’s something there’ thing? I’m not imagining that, right?”

      Jessie took a long beat before responding. Answering this honestly would change things. But he was laying it all out there. It felt gutless not to do the same.

      “No, you’re not imagining that.”

      He laughed uncomfortably, which turned into a full-on, eye-watering cough.

      “You okay?” she asked.

      “Yeah, I’m just…I was nervous to mention that last part.”

      They sat in silence for a minute as he navigated the traffic on Sunset Boulevard, trying to find a spot to park.

      “So that’s the deal?” she finally said.

      “That’s the deal,” he confirmed as he pulled into a spot.

      “You know,” she said gently. “You are nowhere near as cool as I first thought you were.”

      “It’s all a front,” he said, half-joking but clearly only half.

      “I kind of like it. It makes you more…approachable.”

      “Thanks, I guess.”

      “Well, we should probably talk about this a little more,” she replied.

      “I think that would be the mature thing to do,” he agreed. “You do mean after we check out the dead body upstairs, right?”

      “Yes, Ryan. Dead body first. Awkward conversation later.”

      CHAPTER FOUR

      It was like a light turned on in Jessie’s head.

      The second she shut the car door and looked at the building that currently housed a dead woman, her mind cleared. All thoughts of serial killer fathers, orphaned half-sisters, and semi-romantic possibilities faded into the background.

      She and Ryan stood on the sidewalk near the corner of Sunset and Vine, taking in the area. This was the heart of Hollywood and Jessie had been here many times. But that was always to go to dinner, a concert, or to see a movie or live show. She’d never really focused on it as a place where regular people worked, lived, and apparently died.

      For the first time she noticed that among the office towers, restaurants, and theaters many of the buildings were just like the mixed-use ones in her neighborhood, with retail businesses on the ground floor and apartments or condos on the ones above.

      Just up the street, she saw a ten-story apartment complex with a Trader Joe’s below it. Just across the street was a Solstice Fitness Center at the base of a building easily twenty stories tall. She wondered if residents got complimentary memberships but doubted it. That place was unbelievably pricey.

      It looked like the victim’s complex was slightly less upscale. It had several restaurants and a yoga studio on the first floor. But there was also a Walgreens and a Bed, Bath & Beyond. As they walked along the sidewalk to the main entrance, they had to sidestep a line of homeless people camped out along the wall of the building. Most weren’t awake yet, though one older woman was sitting cross-legged, muttering to herself.

      They passed her without comment and arrived at the entrance to the building. Compared to Jessie’s building, the security here was a joke. There was a glass vestibule entrance that required an access card and another to summon the elevator. But when Jessie and Ryan were approaching the entrance, a resident held the door open for them and swiped the elevator sensor without asking them a thing. Jessie noticed fixed cameras in the vestibule and on the elevator but they looked cheap. Ryan pushed the button for the eighth floor and within seconds they were stepping out, never having been challenged.

      “That was easy,” Ryan said as they walked down the exterior hall in the direction of the police tape and several officers milling about.

      “Way too easy,” Jessie noted. “I realize I’m a crazy person when it comes to personal security. But this place is pretty pathetic, especially considering the neighborhood.”

      “It’s a lot safer than it was twenty years ago,” Ryan reminded her.

      “True. But just because you don’t have hookers and drug dealers in plain sight on every corner doesn’t mean it’s Disneyland now.”

      Ryan didn’t respond as they had reached the victim’s apartment. He flashed his detective’s badge and she showed her LAPD profiler ID.

      “Detectives from Hollywood Division have already come and gone,” a perplexed officer said.

      “We’re just following up for Homicide Special Section,” Ryan lied. “It’s mostly a favor for our captain. We’d appreciate if you’d have someone walk us through the scene, even if they have to repeat stuff.”

      “No problem,” he replied. “Officer Wayne is primary on the scene. I’ll get him.”

      As he radioed to the other officer, Jessie took in her surroundings. The front door was open now, as was a window adjacent to it. She wondered if it had been that way before. It was hard to imagine a single woman in the heart of Hollywood would leave a window open when it was accessible by an exterior hallway. It was almost an invitation to trouble.

      The victim’s unit was at the far end of the floor from the elevators, which was shaped like a blocky letter “C.” That meant her apartment was visible to people across the open expanse between the halls. She was curious as to whether anyone had canvassed those units yet.

      Just then, an older uniformed officer stepped out of the apartment to greet them. He was heavyset and balding, with stray hairs that had adhered to his sweaty scalp. He looked to be in his early forties and had that “seen it all” vibe that could be a help or a hindrance depending on his attitude.

      “Officer John Wayne,” he said extending his hand to Ryan. “I’ve already heard every joke you want to say, so you can skip it. What can I do for you?”

      “You’re the spitting image,” Ryan couldn’t help but say.

      Jessie punched him in the arm before returning her attention to the cop, who looked unfazed.

      “Sorry, Officer Wayne,” she said. “Thanks for taking the time. We know the Hollywood detectives have already worked the scene. But we were hoping you could show us around anyway. This case has hallmarks that match something we’re working on and we want to rule it out as connected.”

      “Of course, come on in,” he said, stepping back inside and handing СКАЧАТЬ