“Not sure how much good it’ll do to check her phone,” he said once the door closed. “If it was on the set the whole time, it doesn’t help us pinpoint her location.”
“Yes,” Jessie agreed. “That’s either very convenient or very inconvenient for her.”
Bray hung up and waved at them.
“I’ve got one of my people hunting down Petra Olivet. It may take a while. It seems that there’s no one in the active DMV records with that name.”
“What do you attribute that to?” Jessie asked.
“It could be a glitch. It could be intentional—maybe a name change. We’ll figure it out. They’re also checking public records for this mental breakdown incident. HIPAA regulations may complicate the process but I’m confident we’ll find something. In the meantime, would you like to speak to the Marauder himself?”
“What?” Jessie asked.
“Terry Slauson,” Bray reminded her. “He plays the killer in the movie. Or at least he did. Like I mentioned, Weatherly wanted him dumped. I’m still not clear on whether he actually was. Either way, beware. He’s a little salty about the whole thing.”
Jessie looked over at Trembley, who groaned.
“What’s wrong, partner?” she asked him.
“I feel like you’re going to use that tidbit as a challenge to see who can be saltier, this guy or you.”
“How dare you, Trembley?” Jessie said, mock offended. “I’m very careful about my sodium intake.”
“Ugh. You’re going to give me an ulcer before I turn thirty,” he muttered.
“It’s a gift,” she replied sweetly.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
They took a short break to regroup and, though Jessie didn’t admit it, to make Terry Slauson sweat.
“We still need the skinny on Petra Olivet,” Trembley said, checking his notes. “And Jamil has got to have some info on the significance of Tara Tanner soon, right?”
“He was pretty efficient on the Manhattan Beach case so I’m sure he’ll come through on this one too.”
“Good,” Trembley said. “Because I’m not sure we’re hitting it out of the park with any of the folks here.”
“We’re only halfway through the obvious choices,” Jessie pointed out. “Don’t give up on me just yet.”
Before Trembley could respond, Bray poked her head in again.
“Slauson is getting antsy, says he has a costume fitting and wanted to know if you all are ready for him.”
Jessie looked at Trembley.
“You able to stay professional?” she teased. “No plans to ask this guy for an autograph, right?”
“I think I can control myself,” he replied good-naturedly. “Slauson isn’t famous enough for me to lose it. Other than the Marauder role, he’s mostly a character actor, playing professors and lawyers, that kind of thing. He’s one of those guys you recognize but maybe because you think he was your old high school teacher.”
“Wow, I bet he’d be so flattered to hear his life’s work reduced to that,” Jessie drawled.
“I hear he’s done a lot of major theater roles,” Trembley allowed. “But since I don’t go to the theater, I wouldn’t know.”
“Um, guys, he’s waiting. Should I let him in or not?”
They both nodded. Moments later, Terry Slauson walked through the door. Jessie immediately understood what Trembley had meant. Slauson looked vaguely familiar, though she couldn’t place from where.
He looked to be in his late thirties or early forties with the beginnings of distinguished gray tingeing his impressive head of thick brown hair. He was a big guy, easily six feet and about 190 pounds. He looked to be in good shape, though his current attire—black sweatpants and a long-sleeved black turtleneck—did undermine it a bit, giving him a pretentious, coffeehouse poet vibe.
He looked them over quickly, as if trying to determine how much effort interacting with them would require. Jessie couldn’t tell what conclusion he’d drawn but she didn’t really care.
“Have a seat, Mr. Slauson,” she said briskly, nodding at the folding chair facing them.
He strolled over, as if he was settling in for a casual chat rather than a police interrogation.
“Thanks for your patience,” Trembley said. “As you can imagine, we’re juggling a lot of balls here.”
Slauson didn’t respond so Trembley continued.
“We saw your preliminary statement, which I found a bit confusing. Were you fired yesterday or not? Did you leave the set last night or not? It’s not clear.”
“It wasn’t entirely clear to me either,” Slauson said in a deep baritone that surprised Jessie.
“Can you elaborate?” she asked.
“Sure. Corinne hated me from the start, thought I was showing her up and taking attention away from her in