Page 13 of The Perfect Deception (Jessie Hunt #40)

Four hours later, Jessie wasn’t quite as pumped.

Michael Dominik had been to multiple places since he left the station, but so far, none of them were suspicious. He’d stopped by the downtown headquarters of Cordelia, the hotel chain he worked for.

Ryan followed him inside the office tower while Jessie remained in the car, getting updates from Susannah and Karen. They reported that James Maplewood’s first stop was a funeral home, where he stayed for a couple of hours.

Ryan returned to the car just as Dominik left the parking garage below the building. They trailed him to his next stop, another, smaller office building. This time it was Jessie who followed him inside, making sure to keep her distance. When he took an elevator to the fifth floor, she went to the building’s lobby directory and took a photo of the names of every business listed.

Within five minutes of sending it to the research team, Jamil came back with an answer. The Dominiks’ family attorney was in the building. Jessie considered going upstairs to learn more but worried that she’d be too easily spotted if Dominik stepped into the hallway or saw her passing by.

She returned to the car but they didn't have to wait long for Dominik to emerge. He was only inside for about twenty minutes. Normally, a man visiting his lawyer right after his wife's murder would be suspicious, but Jessie tried not to jump to conclusions.

After all, according to Hannah, who had now settled into her nook of the research department back at Central Station, Dominik was worth close to $5 million before he married Cassandra and had more than doubled his wealth since then. Cassandra, who taught yoga at a studio not far from their house, brought less than $100,000 in net worth to the marriage. If anyone was likely to kill their spouse for the insurance money, it would have been her.

Dominik’s next stop was back home, where a squad car and two officers were waiting. He spoke to them briefly after which one of the officers entered the house with him.

“Should we reach out to find out what they discussed?”

Jessie wondered.

“I’m curious to know what Dominik said to be allowed to enter a crime scene.”

Ryan nodded and got on the radio. But by the time he’d had the dispatcher connect them to the officer who was standing beside his squad car, the point was moot. Dominik emerged from the front door with a backpack slung over his shoulder and the other officer right behind him.

“Never mind,”

Jessie said.

“It makes sense now. Whether he was involved with this or not, he’s not going to want to spend the night in the home where his wife was killed. I’m guessing he checks into one of the Cordelia hotels.”

Her suspicion turned out to be correct. Less than fifteen minutes later, Dominik was dropping off his car at the valet station of the Downtown Cordelia Hotel & Suites, which overlooked the L.A. Live entertainment complex and was in shouting distance of the convention center. Once he was inside, Ryan pulled into the entrance circle too.

“We’re going to use a loading zone spot,”

he said to the valet who eagerly approached the car, showing his badge and ID. The young man nodded and guided them to a spot. Once they were out of the car, the valet put an orange cone behind the car to indicate that it was off limits.

They waited outside for several minutes before entering the lobby. When they did, Dominik was nowhere in sight. They walked up to the reception desk.

“LAPD,”

Ryan told the pleasant-looking blonde across the counter as he again flashed his badge and ID.

“Did you just check in a man named Michael Dominik?”

“Yes sir,”

she said. Her eyes were like saucers as she stared at his badge.

“We’ll need his room number.”

The young woman nodded and checked her screen.

“He’s in room 1103. But I think he’ll be back down soon. He asked me to have the concierge make a noon reservation for two at Cordy’s.”

“What’s that?”

Jessie asked.

The receptionist pointed behind them.

“The hotel bar.”

Sure enough, across the expansive lobby was a fancy-looking bar with its name etched on the wall by the entrance in elaborate cursive script. Jessie looked at the time. It was currently 11:49. They wouldn’t have to wait long.

“Thanks,”

Ryan said and they retreated to a loveseat in the corner of the lobby where they had a clear view of both the elevators and the bar.

“Do we want to check in with the ladies?”

Jessie asked once they’d settled in.

“Sure.”

Ryan dialed Susannah Valentine’s number. She picked up before the first ring was complete.

“Please tell us that your guy is less boring than ours,”

she pleaded.

“What’s so boring?”

Jessie asked.

Karen took that one.

“After the funeral home, Maplewood went to a cemetery. It looked like he was checking on the plot for Olivia. Then he drove to a house in Sherman Oaks. According to Beth, it’s his sister’s residence. I’m guessing he’s planning on spending the night with her family rather than go back home. He hasn’t left the house in the last ninety minutes.”

“After the night he had, I wouldn’t be shocked if he’s asleep,”

Ryan ventured.

“Yeah, well, I hate to be this person,”

Karen said.

“but that case paperwork is still sitting on my desk. I can leave it a little longer but I don’t want Captain Parker getting on my ass about it.”

“Give it another half hour,”

Ryan instructed.

“If he hasn’t come out by then, call for a squad car to take your place. Just make sure they keep their distance. The last thing we need is for him to know he’s being watched.”

After they hung up, Jessie slumped back into the loveseat. It was extremely comfortable and the events of the last half-day were starting to take their toll on her. She was just starting to drift off when Ryan’s words snapped her eyes open.

“Since we’ve got a few minutes, maybe you can update me on how you’re doing. You crashed so early last night that we didn’t really get to catch up.”

“What do you mean?”

He gave her a knowing half-smile.

“Jessie, you’ve been gone for two months at a private Italian retreat, trying to get a handle on the rage that was consuming you. We spoke sparingly that whole time so you could stay focused. I’m just curious as to how that experience was for you. And I’m wondering how that fits with the events of the last twelve hours. I mean, your anger tended to be focused on the perpetrators of the crimes we investigated, and you just saw two women murdered overnight. How’s all that sitting with you?”

Jessie wasn’t sure where to begin or how much to tell him. She thought about the endless hours of therapy she’d gone through, both group and individual. She recalled the long walks around the small town, sometimes hours-long, during which she tried to make sense of things.

She also considered the advice she’d gotten right here in Los Angeles, hours before she killed Rachel Thompson, that resonated with her more than anything she’d learned in Taormina. All of it was too much to share in a hotel lobby while waiting for a person of interest to appear.

“It’s too early to tell,”

she said, knowing that wouldn’t come close to satisfying him.

To Ryan’s credit, after a brief moment of obvious frustration, he moved on.

“Okay. Did you have any issues with your head while you were gone?”

She shook her head forcefully, as if to prove it was doing okay.

“No. I felt fine the whole time I was there. Then again, the closest I got to putting myself in physical danger was when my legs gave out during a challenging yoga pose in one of their classes. So the noggin hasn’t really been put to the test of late.”

She hoped her quippy response might set him at ease but he didn’t smile.

“Hopefully it won’t be,”

he said.

“And with any luck, we can get some clarity in the next few months about whether we’re moving forward on the parenthood front.”

It might have been psychosomatic, but Jessie’s head suddenly began to pound.

“I really don’t want to talk about that right now, Ryan. I need to focus on my mental health before I even consider a conversation about that topic.”

“Fair enough.”

He held up his palms in a sign of surrender.

“Maybe we can talk about the young person you already have experience raising.”

“What about her?”

He gave her his bes.

“you know what I’m talking about”

expression but answered anyway.

“When are you going to come clean with Hannah about Finn?”

Jessie sat with the question for a while.

“Not yet,”

she finally said.

“I need to know more about where things stand before I bring her into it. And right now, I just don’t know enough.”

Ryan didn’t seem especially satisfied with her answer, but before he could drill down any further, Michael Dominik stepped out the elevator. They watched as he entered Cordy’s and joined a woman seated at a small table. She stood up and gave him a hug. Jessie noted that she was well put-together, in black slacks and a dusty pink blazer. She had flowing silver hair and looked to be in her fifties.

They sat down and immediately dived into what looked like a pretty intense conversation. The woman was sipping a cocktail as Dominik spoke animatedly. When the server came over to offer him a menu, he waved her away and resumed what he was saying.

The conversation was punctuated by passionate remarks by Dominik, contrasted with the woman’s much more restrained responses. Jessie was surprised when, after about five minutes, Dominik stood up, gave the woman a polite peck on the cheek, and walked out of the bar. He returned to the elevator, looking fidgety until it arrived and he stepped in.

Back in the bar, the woman seemed far calmer, as she scrolled through her phone and continued to sip her drink. She didn’t seem to be in any rush. Jessie turned to Ryan.

“Since it looks like Dominik isn’t going anywhere, maybe we should talk to his companion. It seemed like she elicited strong emotions in him.”

“I think that’s a great idea,”

Ryan agreed.

They stood and headed over. As they did, Jessie noted a rush of adrenaline coursing through her. Unlike the recent widowers they’d questioned, she didn’t the feel the need to be as diplomatic with whoever this woman was. In fact, she was looking forward to taking off the gloves a bit.

When they got to the entrance to Cordy’s, a tall, skinny host with a wispy mustache stepped into their path and gave them a pinched smile.

“May I help you?”

he asked in a tone that suggested that he wasn’t all that interested in helping them.

Jessie could guess why. Neither she nor Ryan was dressed for the upscale bar. And even though it was just after noon, the place was hopping. She didn’t see a single unoccupied table in the whole bar. But she didn’t care. They knew what table they were going to and she didn’t especially like the host’s vibe.

“No, you may not,”

she said, brushing past him.

As she did, some little part of her hoped he might try to grab her arm or otherwise prevent her from entering. When he didn’t, she was almost disappointed.

She immediately chastised herself. What about box breathing? What about the guided imagery? It was going to be a real challenge to employ the techniques she’d learned outside of the safe confines of the Ionian Center, but she needed to at least try. Otherwise, what were those two months even for?

Got to work on controlling that confrontational vibe, she barked to herself. If she couldn’t, she wasn’t sure how much longer she could do this job. Or how much longer they’d let her