Page 25 of The Perfect Illusion (Jessie Hunt #39)

Jessie got way more satisfaction than she should have from Hughes’s reaction.

The woman, clad in tan pants, a black top, and a red power blazer that matched her hair, spun around. Her face turned as crimson as the rest of her. Jessie noted that Hughes’s hair looked slightly damp.

“This is an incredibly important call regarding our fall line,” she objected. “I can’t just push it off.”

"And this is an incredibly important visit about some very serious crimes," Jessie told her as she walked in and took a seat in one of the plush chairs opposite Hughes's desk. "That takes priority, so please hang up. I'd hate to ask Officer Devery to come in here and make things more formal.”

Hughes, clearly seething, took several seconds to compose herself before muttering into the phone. “I’ll call you back.”

“Thank you,” Jessie said with less sincerity than she’d intended.

“Who are you again?” Hughes asked, sitting down across the desk.

Jessie wasn’t sure if Hughes was playing dumb or really had no idea who she was. The woman was either genuinely unaware or very good at hiding that she wasn’t.

“My name is Jessie Hunt. I’m a criminal profiler with a special unit of the LAPD.”

“Your name sounds vaguely familiar,” Hughes said. “What is this all about?”

“We’re conducting an investigation and your name came up,” Jessie told her, keeping the particulars vague for now. “So we had a few questions for you.”

“My name came up?” Hughes said derisively. “What does that mean exactly?”

“I noticed your hair is a bit damp,” Jessie replied, ignoring the question. “Why is that?”

Hughes seemed surprised by the inquiry but answered.

“I just came from a spin class at my gym,” she said. “I took a quick shower after. I guess I didn’t dry my hair to police satisfaction. Is that a crime these days?”

“Not yet,” Jessie said, doing her best to keep a lid on her growing hostility toward the woman, but sensing that she was about to fail. “But harassment and stalking are crimes, as you well know, as does your ex-wife. What can you tell me about that?”

“Did she put you up to this?” Hughes demanded, slamming her palms down on the top of her desk, “because that sounds about right for that bitch.”

“Wow,” Jessie noted through gritted teeth, ignoring the urge to slap the smirk off the woman’s face, “for someone who has a restraining order out on them, you’re really not all that interested in changing the perception of you.”

"Why should I walk on eggshells?" Hughes said. "She blew the whole thing out of proportion, and now I look like the bad guy when she was the one who stepped out on me. She's a snake, and that's the nicest thing I can say about her."

“Is this how you talk about all younger women who take up with rich, older dudes or is it just your ex?”

“Can’t it be both?” Hughes asked acidly. “Now are you going to tell me why you’re here? Or are you just going to cast general aspersions on my character? Because I feel like we’re real close to ‘call my lawyer’ time.”

“Jumping straight to the lawyer thing?” Jessie needled, unable to help herself. “That doesn’t sound like the response of an innocent person.”

Hughes smirked, unintimidated.

“Innocent of what?” she demanded. “Besides, I thought asserting my right to an attorney was protected and didn’t imply any kind of guilt. Has that changed in the last five minutes?”

“Are you asserting that right?” Jessie asked, sensing that the woman would view doing so as losing the argument, something she was likely loathe to do.

“Because if you are, we can end this chat now and continue it down at the station in the company of your attorney.

Of course, that would mean that Officer Devery will have to lead you out of here in cuffs.

Or you can help me clear up the issues I have questions about, and maybe I go on my merry way. "

Hughes scowled. But even before she replied, Jessie could tell from her combative body language that she wasn’t going to invoke the right to counsel.

“What do you want to know?’

“Where were you the last two nights?” Jessie asked, diving in before Hughes had a chance to reconsider.

Hughes smiled.

“Are you even a cop?” she taunted.

“As I told you, I’m a criminal profiler,” Jessie answered, knowing she was being baited but biting anyway.

“But Officer Devery is a cop. So is my partner on this case, Detective Bowen, who is following up on other leads. I said I’d handle this one because he thought you were less of a priority.

But if you think you should move up the ladder, I can call him to join us. ”

Jessie saw from the hardening of Hughes's face that she might have snapped back too hard. Her goal was to throw the woman off balance while still getting answers. But she worried that she'd been too aggressive.

“You’ve obviously got it in for me,” Hughes said, her voice full of self-satisfaction.

“I don’t think I can get a fair shake from you.

So screw you. Screw your buddy in blue out there.

And screw your detective pal too. I’m not saying crap to you.

The only person I’m talking to is my lawyer.

So if you want to arrest me for ‘harassment’ or whatever, go right ahead.

I’ll sue your whole damn department. But we’re done here. ”

Jessie's whole body clenched up. She tried not to let Hughes see it but every bit of her was vibrating with anger, not just at the woman across from her, but at herself.

She'd allowed her disdain for Hughes to interfere with the investigation, and it had shut the woman down.

If she'd been even slightly less antagonistic, maybe Hughes would have answered her question.

Certainly, if Brady had been here with her, he would have tempered the hostile vibe.

But now that it was too late to get anything from Hughes, Jessie felt even more furious. She noticed a letter opener lying on Hughes’s desk and felt an intense yearning to pick it up and jam it in the woman’s hand, or better yet, her chest.

She tasted the bile in her mouth and swallowed hard, forcing herself not to react as she preferred to. She was still in the chair opposite Hughes, silently debating how to proceed, when her phone rang. It was Brady. Happy for the distraction, she answered immediately.

“Jessie,” Brady said, “unless Hughes is currently covered in blood, I need you back here now.”

“Why?”

“There’s been another murder,” he said.

Jessie paused, making sure she’d heard him right. The timing was a surprise, as the other killings had taken place much later in the day.

“When?”

“In just the last hour,” he told her.

“What’s the name of the victim?”

“Caroline Walters.”

“Text me the address and I’ll meet you there,” she said, then hung up and stared at Hughes.

“What’s your ex’s name again?” she asked.

Hughes must have sensed that the pressure might be off her because she ignored her previous declaration that she wasn't talking.

“Annabeth Massey. Why?”

“You’re sure you were at the gym before you came here?”

“Pretty sure,” Hughes said sarcastically. “And so are the two dozen people who were in the spin class with me.”

Jessie stood up.

“You’re welcome to remain silent,” she said. “or you could share the names of everyone who can vouch for your attendance at that class with Officer Devery. If you go the latter route, you may not have to pay any attorney’s fees. I leave the choice to you.”

“So if I do that, are we done here?”

“I don’t know yet,” Jessie said as she headed for the door, “but it wouldn’t hurt.”

She left the office without waiting for a reply.