an over-the-top Southern accent which didn’t hide the fact that he hadn’t consented to share the woman’s name.
Jessie decided this was the time, when he seemed to be enjoying himself and had let his guard down slightly, to ask the question that had been on her mind.
“Do you feel bad, sir?”
“Excuse me?”
“Do you feel bad that a woman was murdered in your bathroom, Mr. Otis?”
For the briefest of moments, he seemed thrown. But it was just a flicker in the eyes. Almost as quickly as it had appeared, it was gone.
“Of course I do, Ms. Hunt,” he said gravely. “It wasn’t just ‘a woman.’ It was Milly Estrada, a friend, a woman I respected immensely. While she never represented me personally, her firm did. And I have friends who extolled her dedication and her skill. They found her in my shower, with her neck broken and no shirt on, hosed down like an animal. I feel more than bad, Ms. Hunt, I feel devastated. And if I don’t display that to your satisfaction, I’m sorry. I’m trying to put on a brave face and push through this because lingering on it, thinking about how awful her final moments must have been, well it’s too terrible to fathom. Call me a coward but I guess I’m just not up to it.”
Nobody spoke for several seconds. Jessie was genuinely unsure whether this was all for show or if Jasper Otis was so used to living on the bright stage that this was really how he comported himself in a moment of grief.
“Do you have any more questions for me?” he asked with hint of an edge in his voice.
She did and was about to ask one when her phone buzzed. She glanced at it and saw that it was from Hannah. It read simply: “Hospital called. Ryan will be here in just over an hour. You need to be here at noon to sign him out.”
She looked up. Otis was staring at her expectantly.
“That’s all for now,” she said, “though we may need to revisit some issues with you later. If you can provide Detective Purcell with your companion’s name and contact info, he’ll guard it zealously. In the meantime, I offer my condolences on your loss.”
She didn’t wait for Nancy Salter to open the door for her, or for Matilda, who was waiting outside the dining room, to lead her outside. By the time Karen caught up to her in the parking lot, she was standing impatiently by the passenger door.
“You booked out of there in a hurry,” she said. “Everything okay?”
Jessie nodded. She’d explain on the way. For now they had to move.
“How fast can you get back to the station?”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Jessie looked at the time as she pulled up in the driveway of the house. It was 11:53.
When she opened the front door, Hannah was sitting on the couch with her arms crossed and a glower on her face.
“How’s it going, sunshine?” Jessie asked.
She already knew the answer. Her sister’s green eyes were fiery, her sandy blonde hair was wild, as if she’d started brushing it but then gave up. The way she was folded up into herself, no one would guess she was almost as tall as Jessie.
“You go off to investigate a case on a Sunday morning and leave me with some lame note?”
“I didn’t want to interrupt your beauty sleep,” Jessie told her.
“And you made me think I might be stuck here alone when Ryan showed up.”
“I’m here now,” Jessie said, trying not to escalate the situation.
“Just barely,” came the surly reply.
Jessie sighed internally.
“How’d you sleep?” she asked.
Hannah looked like she was about to offer more snark, then seemed to reconsider.
“The same as usual, so not well,” she admitted. “This time I had the nightmare where our serial killer father murders my adoptive parents. I guess I should be glad. At least it’s a change of pace from when your serial killer stalker buddy made me watch while he slaughtered my foster parents.”
Jessie walked over to the couch and sat down beside her.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I wish I could tell you when those kinds of dreams will go away. But I’m still waiting for it to happen for me.”
Hannah nodded before seeming to brighten.
“Hey,” she finally said in a sarcastically chipper tone, “at least when Ryan gets here, we’ll be too exhausted and stressed out by our current lives to focus on the past ones, right?”
Before Jessie could respond there was a knock on the