The thought made her smile. She now felt like she once again had full control over herself. She recalled the Principles. She repeated the mantra that Andy had taught her: Your mind is your strongest tool. It can take you anywhere if you let it. Suddenly she had complete clarity. She knew exactly where her mind needed to take her.
With a sense of tranquility she’d never experienced before, Livia returned to her locker and undressed. Then she grabbed her towel, along with the machete hidden in her gym bag, and headed for the showers, where she could hear Kaylee softly humming to herself.
CHAPTER SIX
“Nothing?” Jessie repeated incredulously.
“Nothing,” Jamil said again, clearly embarrassed that he didn’t have better news.
“How is that possible?” she asked, as she and Karen leaned over his monitor in the research department.
She didn’t mean to sound so testy. It was just that they’d been back at the station for an hour now and so far, every lead that they thought they had was drying up. Jamil Winslow, HSS’s head of research, had been tasked with finding the location of Addison Rutherford’s phone, which was usually child’s play for him. Both Jessie and Karen were stunned that he hadn’t cracked it by now.
Jamil didn’t look too offended. Jessie had noticed that since he’d been named head researcher for the unit, something had changed. He was still polite and hard-working to a fault. But he was more relaxed. She knew that he was going to the gym regularly to add some muscle to his scrawny frame, which seemed to give him confidence. But most importantly, he didn’t take every critical comment personally anymore.
“It was there in the hotel until 11:06 p.m. and then the signal completely died,” he told them. “It’s hard to know what happened. Just removing the SIM card in a populated area like that with other phones and Wi-Fi and cell towers everywhere probably wouldn’t be enough to lose it entirely. Neither would just smashing it to bits. If the killer took her phone, they managed to disable it quickly and effectively, which suggests they knew what they were doing.”
“What about checking her call and text logs?” Karen wondered.
“I’m working on getting authorization,” Jamil said. “But once I do, it’ll likely take a few more hours after that to get the data from the phone company.”
“Okay,” Jessie said, managing to rediscover some semblance of self-possession after her brief, crotchety slip, “Still no luck on the hotel camera footage?”
“There’s lots of footage. That place was hopping,” Jamil told her. “The problem is the quality and angle of the cameras in the elevators and the lobby. First of all, it’s all black and white and grainy. I think this system is from last century. Plus, the cameras are positioned so high up that it makes facial recognition virtually impossible. I counted at least eight guys in baseball caps and jeans in that window of time but I couldn’t accurately tell you their ages within two decades. By contrast, the camera angles on the actual floors with the suites are pretty decent. If the camera for the 10th floor had been working, we might have something to work with.”
“So we’ve got nothing,” Karen grumbled.
“From a tech perspective, it’s not looking good,” Jamil said apologetically. “But if you bring me some suspects, I can always check their location statuses and see if any of them match. Otherwise, I’m out of ideas for now.”
Jessie sighed.
“I guess it’s back to you and me and some old-fashioned human investigating,” she said to Karen. “You want to fill me in some more on this ER situation?”
“Sure, let’s talk in the courtyard,” Karen said.
Jessie followed her out to the interior courtyard in the center of the rectangular Central Station building. Back in the Buckingham hotel suite, “ER” was the coded term that Karen suggested they use when referencing the Eleventh Realm. She said that the group was surprisingly powerful, having infiltrated a number of industries in Los Angeles, and that it would be advisable to discuss the group cryptically and in private whenever possible.
But before the discussion got any further, they had been inundated with requests from other officers on the scene, as well as forensics and coroner’s office personnel. This would be the first opportunity they’d had to discuss the group confidentially since then.
They walked across the grass to the center of the courtyard, where there was one bench completely shaded by a large tree. Though they were protected from the worst of the wind, it was still chilly and as they sat down, Jessie zipped up her jacket. Karen looked around to make sure no one was nearby before speaking.
“Did you get a chance to do any research on the group?” she asked.
“A little bit, in between calls with all the different units,” Jessie answered. “Most of it was stuff I already knew: charismatic guy starts a self-help group, gets devoted acolytes who pay big bucks for his wisdom, people who get disenchanted and leave are maligned by those who stick around. Is that about right?”
“That’s a solid Cliffs Notes version,” Karen said. “But it’s more complicated than that. Working at Hollywood Station for so many years, I got to see the inner workings of the group up close. What you said is true. To many in the general public, the Eleventh Realm comes across as a group interested in self-actualization. They have seminars and retreats, all of which are incredibly expensive, by the way. And through those events, Sterling Shepherd has accumulated a cadre of influential supporters. Many are in the entertainment industry. Some are in politics and finance. But he also has rank and file supporters, a number of which are in law enforcement.”
Karen said that last line in a barely audible whisper.
“It sounds a lot like some other organizations in town that I could name,” Jessie noted.
“In many ways, it is. They’re incredibly secretive, which is what worries me most. If Addison Rutherford was an Adherent and her death was tied to the group, it’s going to be like pulling teeth to get anything out of them.”
“So you think she’s one of them because she had that book, The Purifying Power of Potential?” Jessie asked.
“That’s only partly why,” Karen explained. “First of all, she didn’t just have the book. I flipped through it. It was highlighted with hand-written notes on almost every page. She studied that book. For Adherents, it’s like the Bible. They refer to it reverently as P3. And then there was her voicemail. Did you hear her wish callers ‘potential unlocked?’”
“Yeah—what does that mean?”
“It’s part of Shepherd’s philosophy about ‘unlocking Adherents’ full potential.’ That’s what they’re called by the way—Adherents, not members. There’s a lot more to unpack but that’s the headline—unlocking full potential. And then there’s the part where she said that callers should share their truth and that she’d respond in kind.”
“Right,” Jessie recalled. “What was that all about?”
“That’s standard Realm-speak,” Karen said. “Adherents, no matter whether they’re brand new or long-time veterans, are supposed to regularly participate in something called ‘Truth Sessions,’ or ‘TS’ for short, which is basically a euphemism for confession.”