was with someone famous.”
“Were you only made to have sex at this house?”
“No,” she said. Jessie could tell from the quaver in the girl’s voice that they were entering delicate territory.
“Where else?”
“I was taken on a private plane to a country where they spoke another language.”
“Did you recognize the language?”
“Uh-uh,” she said, sounding apologetic.
“That’s okay,” Detective Shore said. “Did you recognize anyone on the plane?”
There was no response.
“You can’t just nod,” Shore reminded her. “We need a verbal response.”
“Yes, I recognized someone.”
“Who was that?” he asked.
“The rich guy, Otis.”
“Are you referring to Jasper Otis?”
“Uh-huh,” she answered quietly.
“For the record, I am currently holding up a photograph of Jasper Otis. Is this the man from the plane?”
“Uh-huh.”
“What happened on the plane?”
“On the plane?” she repeated. “Nothing. It didn’t happen there. It was in the country.”
“What happened when you got to the country?”
There was another brief pause. Jessie thought Detective Shore was going to have to cajole her again, but then she answered.
“Are you asking about what he did to me or what he let the other men do to me?”
Before he could reply, Jessie heard what sounded like a door opening. A second, extremely agitated male voice spoke.
“What the hell, Shore? I thought you were told to hand this case over.”
“I just thought I’d get the ball rolling—” Shore started to say.
“This is an unauthorized interview with a minor, without parental consent. You could be suspended or worse. Shut off the tape.”
“But sir—”
“Shut it off now!”
The tape ended and so did the audio file.
Jessie sat in her driver’s seat for several seconds, stunned. Then she opened her door and started to retch. When she was done, she wiped her mouth and slammed the door shut. She needed to bring the drive to someone and there was only person she could trust.
CHAPTER TEN
She didn’t knock before she burst through the door to Decker’s office.
“Hunt!” he exclaimed, surprised and irritated. “You know I don’t like people just barging in.”
She closed the door and locked it, then glanced around the room, though she knew that was a waste of time.
“Do you have your office swept for bugs?” she asked. “Listening devices, I mean?”
His frown turned into a look of startled concern.
“Why?”
“Please, Captain,” she insisted. “Just answer the question.”
“Okay. Periodically, yes. Maybe twice a year.”
“Are you able to get it done now?”
“I have to place a request.” he said. “On a Sunday, it will take a few hours to get a team here. I have a portable scanner but it’s not as sensitive as what the tech folks use.”
“Are you able to come to my car? I need you to hear something.”
Decker nodded immediately and followed her out to the police garage. Only when they were inside with the doors locked did she pull out the laptop.
“What is this about, Hunt?” he pressed.
“I’m about to play you an audio file,” she told him. “But before I do, you need to know that I can’t reveal how I got it. My source was adamant and I want to respect the person’s wishes.”
Decker looked like he was going to protest, but then seemed to think better of it.
“Play it,” he said.
She did. Listening to it the second time around, she was able to pick up more clearly on the fear in Marla’s voice and something very similar in Detective Shore’s. She also noticed that he was moving the questioning along more quickly than in a standard interview, as if he knew he had limited time. It was clear now that it had taken place in an interrogation room. When it was over, Decker turned to her. His face was as white as a ghost. She’d never seen him so unsettled.
“Who else knows about this?” he asked.
“I have no idea. You’re the only person I’ve shared it with. I don’t know where my source got it, though I have some suspicions. It sounded to me like the supervisor who shut down the interview was anxious to keep it quiet. Do you know Detective Shore? Maybe he can shed some light on this.”
“I’m afraid not,” he said in a way that made her heart sink. “He’s dead.”
The anxiety that had been simmering in her gut started to boil.
“What happened?”
“Brian Shore died about four years ago, before you joined the force. He was in the Vice unit in West L.A. division. He was supposed to meet some buddies from his station for a fishing weekend at a cabin one of them has up near Big Bear. But his brakes gave