Page 14 of The Perfect Deception (Jessie Hunt #40)
Jessie was also a little irked when, after she passed by the host, she heard Ryan whisper to the man.
“We’re meeting her.”
She glanced back, first to see that Ryan was pointing at the silver-haired woman, but mostly to scowl at him for avoiding a scene she was happy to cause. She returned her attention to the woman, who looked to be on her last sip. Pulling out the chair that Dominik had been sitting in, Jessie plopped herself down in it and plunked her elbows on the table, making a loud thud that drew the attention of several other patrons.
“How the hell’s it going?”
she asked the woman, who appeared briefly startled before quickly regaining her composure.
“I’m quite well,”
she replied coolly.
“Just enjoying the last of my cocktail. How are you?”
The emphasis on the last word was pointed. Jessie could feel the woman judging her, which was fine. If her attention was on Jessie’s inappropriateness, she’d be less prepared for the questions coming her way.
“Well, I guess I’m a little confused.”
Jessie leaned in close as if she and the woman were best girlfriends.
“I just saw a man whose wife died last night chatting it up with you. It seemed a little odd so I thought I’d find out what’s up with that.”
The woman’s expression went from amused irritation to guarded intensity. Ryan, who had borrowed a chair from a nearby table, sat down between the two women. He placed his ID and badge on the table and flashed a smile.
“Detective Ryan Hernandez, Los Angeles Police Department,”
he said warmly.
“This is Jessie Hunt. She works for the department as well.”
“Oh, I definitely recognize the famed Jessie Hunt,”
the woman said acidly, having regrouped from the shock of having the police sit down at her liquid lunch.
“I actually missed you, Jessie. I’m so used to seeing you on my local news, solving cases. But that hasn’t happened in a while. I was starting to get worried. Good to see you out and about.”
“You have me at a disadvantage,”
Jessie replied, not commenting on the reference to her celebrity.
“Who might you be?”
The woman flashed a wide, wholly insincere smile.
“My name is Elise Prager.”
“And how do you know Michael Dominik?”
Jessie pressed.
“Am I obligated to answer that question?”
Her tart response surprised Jessie. People didn’t usually like to draw suspicion to themselves.
“Why wouldn’t you?”
Prager shrugged nonchalantly.
“I just get the sense that you don’t have my best interests at heart. You’re giving off a very combative energy, Jessie, which I find odd, considering that we’ve never met before. Have I wronged you in some way?”
“It’s not me being wronged that I’m concerned about.”
Jessie could hear the growl in her own voice and didn’t try to hide it.
“It’s Cassandra Dominik, who, unlike you, will never have another cocktail again. So I’ll ask once more—how do you know Michael Dominik?”
Prager looked her up and down. She was obviously a proud woman who didn’t like to be bullied by anyone and appeared to be having an internal debate about how hard to push back. That was fine with Jessie. She wanted this woman squirming. That’s when she might actually reveal something of value.
Prager leaned in. When she spoke, it was barely over a whisper.
“I’ll tell you what. I know a great many people in this bar. I can feel them staring. And I have no doubt that a few would like to amble by to catch a snippet our conversation. Rather than having that happen, which I suspect we’d both prefer to avoid, perhaps we can continue our chat somewhere less public. I promise to answer all your questions, or at least give it a shot, at that time.”
Jessie looked over at Ryan. His eyes were pleading with her to take the deal. They didn’t know who Elise Prager was, but he seemed to think they’d have more success with her away from the increasingly boisterous midday Cordy’s crowd. She turned back to Prager.
“We’ll give you a ride.”
“Where are we going?”
Prager asked.
“The police station.