The date was going well.
In the back of her mind, Jessie started to wonder if tonight might be the night. She was almost reluctant to wish for it. Her relationship with Ryan was the most stable thing in her life right now and she was hesitant to do anything to complicate it.
She’d spent most of the evening at the charmingly cheesy Italian restaurant complaining about how things were going with Hannah. She recounted the basics of her conversation with Dr. Lemmon and lamented the lack of forward progress they were making in helping her half-sister adjust to her new normal. It was only when Ryan excused himself to go to the restroom and she looked around the restaurant that Jessie realized just how self-centered she’d been.
The place, a legendary if cheesy San Fernando Valley haunt called Miceli’s, was darkly lit and romantic. The vibe was heightened by the fact that Ryan had somehow secured the one table on the second floor, in what amounted to an indoor balcony overlooking the rest of the restaurant. But until now, she’d been mostly oblivious.
She’d also barely registered until he left that he’d hardly spoken all night. Instead he sat patiently as she prattled on about her domestic troubles, barely letting him get in a word. In fact, now that she thought about it, she didn’t recall asking him a single question all evening.
As the guilt washed over her, she saw him leave the restroom on the floor below and deftly navigate his way through the maze of tables to the stairs. As he did, she noticed something else—almost every woman who could get away with it cast a glance his way. Who could blame them?
The man was hard to ignore. Six feet tall and two hundred pounds of what looked like marble, with unassuming, short black hair and welcoming brown eyes, he walked with the quiet confidence of a man who didn’t need to impress anyone.
And if these women knew what he did for a living, they’d be even more intrigued. As the lead detective for a special unit of the LAPD called Homicide Special Section—HSS for short—his cases all had high profiles or intense media scrutiny, often involving multiple victims and serial killers.
And he was here with her. It had taken a while to get to this point. He was in the final stages of a divorce after six years of marriage. Jessie had been single a little longer. Her marriage had ended more dramatically, when her now ex-husband attempted to frame her for killing his mistress. When she’d uncovered his plan, he tried to kill her. He was currently incarcerated in a prison in Orange County.
Ryan sat down across from her and she reached for his hand.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’ve been totally dominating the conversation. How are you?”
“I’m okay,” he said. “That drug kingpin assassination wrapped up today.”
“You never called me in to help,” she noted, pretending to be hurt.
“It was pretty cut and dried. We didn’t really need the services of any fancy profiler for that one.”
“Who cares?” Jessie protested. “Call me in anyway. At least then we can spend a little time together, even if I might have to bail at some point.”
“How romantic,” he said. “Nothing like making googly eyes over a dead body.”
“We do what we’ve got to do,” she said, shrugging. “Besides, for my last case I was assigned to work with Trembley, who—no offense—isn’t exactly my dream partner.”
“Hey,” Ryan mock-protested. “Detective Alan Trembley is a solid professional and you should be honored to work with him on any case you’re assigned.”
“He’s quite boring.”
“I resent that on his behalf,” he said, trying to scowl. “Besides, not having you with me allows me to plan your birthday without you hovering.”
“You’re planning something for me?” Jessie asked, genuinely surprised. “I didn’t even know you knew when it was.”
“I’m a detective, Jessie. That’s kind of in my wheelhouse. I wouldn’t even mention it except that I need you to make sure your schedule is clear on Thursday evening. Cool?”
“Cool,” she agreed, blushing slightly.
He smiled back and she felt a rush of warmth come over her. Someone going to the trouble to learn her birthday and organize something for it would normally have made Jessie illogically anxious. But somehow, because it was Ryan, she felt comfortable with the idea, even excited.
She wondered if he might be planning an early gift of an intimate nature for her tonight. She was about to hint at the idea when his phone rang. She didn’t recognize the ringtone. Whoever it was caused Ryan to frown. He mouthed sorry as he picked up.
“Detective Hernandez,” he said.
Jessie watched as Ryan listened to the voice on the other end of the line. The frown on his face became more pronounced with each passing moment. After waiting silently for about thirty seconds, he finally responded.
“But Valley Division’s already there. Won’t it be too late?”
He was quiet as the other person responded. After another twenty seconds, he spoke again.
“I understand. I’m on it.”
Then he hung up. He stared at the phone for a moment as if it might speak directly to him. When he looked up, his eyes were steely.
“I hate to do this but we have to skip dessert. I have to check out a crime scene and if we don’t leave now, it might be too late.”
Jessie had rarely seen Ryan look so uneasy. He waved at the server to get her attention, handing her a pile of bills from his wallet when she hurried over.
“Too late?” Jessie asked. “What does that mean?”
Ryan stood up and indicated that she should do the same. He was already headed for the stairs when he replied.
“I’ll explain on the way.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Jessie forced herself to wait.
Whatever this was about, it had Ryan on edge and she didn’t want to make it worse. She sat quietly in the passenger seat, allowing him to reveal what was going on when he felt comfortable.
“Are you sure you’re okay coming?” he asked again.
“Yes,” she assured him. “I texted Hannah that a case came up and that she shouldn’t expect me back before she goes to bed. We’re good.”
“You could have rideshared from the restaurant,” he reminded her.
“I wanted to come, Ryan,” she insisted, again biting her tongue despite the desire to ask additional questions.
He continued west on Ventura Boulevard deeper into the Valley. After another ten seconds of silence, he finally began to speak.
“So here’s the deal. I have a contact in the department who will occasionally alert me to cases I should be aware of.”
“Could you be a little more cryptic?” Jessie asked, unable to contain herself.
“I actually don’t have much more than that to share,” he said, ignoring her snark. “About four years ago, I got a call from a burner phone. The voice was digitally manipulated. The caller suggested that the prime suspect in the murder of a wealthy businessman was being set up and that I should look at political motivations for the killing.”
“This call just came out of the blue?” she asked.
“Yep. I was a junior grade detective without much to lose so I followed it up. The case was about to be closed. But I started asking questions and pretty quickly, the whole thing unraveled. It turned out that the businessman was a major supporter and fundraiser for a local city councilman. Once he died, the councilman’s funding dried up. His challenger was able to overwhelm him financially and won the seat. In the end, we realized the challenger for the seat had hired someone to take out the businessman for exactly that reason, to kneecap the incumbent’s primary source of financial support. He also had the original suspect framed so it would look like a random robbery gone wrong.”