to make sure that one of them didn’t double back later and verified that none of them were on the estate property after three that morning.”
“But you said that two were still there,” Jessie reminded him. “Who?”
“One is the actor you interviewed yesterday, Rance Jensen. Because of the dampening technology used on the estate, we can’t use his phone location data to determine where exactly he was. But the main house camera shows him arriving at the estate at nine forty-four p.m. and leaving at four oh-nine a.m. We’re still trying to see if he was active on social media during that period. If so, it might help us piece together his whereabouts with more specificity.”
“Good idea,” Jessie said as she quickly switched lanes to avoid getting stuck behind a garbage truck. “So who’s our final contender?”
“Percy Avalon, the singer.”
“Ah yes,” Jessie said, remembering the man who had claimed ignorance about an entourage member holding a woman in his hotel room against her will. “What’s his story?”
“He showed up with a whole crew just after eleven p.m. The footage shows them all piling into a limo to leave around seven fifteen the next morning.”
“That was just before Detective Bray and I arrived on the scene,” Jessie said, dumbfounded. “The estate should have already been secured. Are you telling me these people were just allowed to leave?”
“According to the footage I’m looking at, they were met at the driveway by an officer with a clipboard, who took down some info from each of them—it looks like he’s writing down the names on driver’s licenses. But then he let them go.”
“Wow,” Jessie marveled in disgust. “These Westside cops definitely have a different way of doing things. Anything else?”
“Maybe one more thing. It doesn’t have to do with your requests but I thought you might want to know. Around five forty-five a.m., there’s footage of what looks like a catering staffer, a guy in his twenties, leaving through the main entrance. A few seconds later, a tall, middle-aged woman ran out after him. She caught up to him and looked like she was yelling at him. He said something back to her and she hauled off and slapped him. She hit him so hard that he was knocked to the ground.”
Jessie had a sneaking suspicion who the slapper might be.
“You said the woman was tall and middle-aged,” she noted. “Was she wearing a business suit with a scarf, with black hair tied up in a bun?”
“That’s the one,” Jamil said.
“Her name is Nancy Salter. She’s Otis’s estate manager. Can you do a check on her when you get a chance? I know we won’t be able to track her location but we can at least look at her criminal history.”
“On it,” Jamil said.
“You’re a lifesaver,” Jessie told him. “Don’t hesitate to pummel me with updates. I’m heading back to Holmby Hills now.”
After hanging up, Jessie called Bray to update her on what Jamil had learned. When that was done, it still took her nearly an hour to finally get to the estate. Bray was waiting outside the gate. She didn’t look happy.
“What’s the problem?” Jessie asked.
“They’re not letting me on the property. They say that Otis got a stay from a local judge, restricting any future searches without a warrant. I checked at the station. It’s true. They’ve also reneged on the promise to provide the security footage from the entire estate. All we have is what they originally provided from the main entrance to the South House.”
“These aren’t the choices an innocent man makes,” Jessie fumed, trying but failing to rein in her anger. “I’ve had just about enough of this guy and his games. I want this case solved.”
“You’re preaching to the choir,” Karen said. “It’s unbelievably suspicious. The problem is, now that they’ve informed me, I’m stuck. I can’t proceed with anything here until the situation is resolved.”
Jessie thought for a moment. When she replied, she was smiling slightly.
“If you’re amenable, here’s what I think you should do. Go back to Central station. See if you can get that warrant. Use Captain Decker if you have to. I think we’ll have better luck if we go to a judge we deal with regularly, rather than one who might be in Otis’s pocket. Besides, by then Jamil may have locked down more details on where Rance Jensen and Percy Avalon were that night. If not, maybe you can think of some avenues of inquiry that didn’t occur to him.”