The Perfect Neighbor (Jessie Hunt #9) - Blake Pierce Page 0,52

Pepsi.”

Ryan looked at the guy with a mix of annoyance and pity.

“Barney,” he said calmly. “This can go smooth or bumpy. It’s up to you. Answer our questions honestly and we might be out of your…hair in a few minutes. Make things difficult and it could be a long night for you and your Pepsi-loving companion.”

Barney took off his sunglasses and slid them into the breast pocket of his shirt. His brown eyes were bloodshot and he had dark bags under them. For half a second, Jessie thought she saw apprehension in them. Then he seemed to rediscover his inner jerk.

“I won’t be pushed around,” he said indignantly. “I’m a lawyer, you know.”

“Yes,” Jessie agreed mildly, speaking to him for the first time. “We did a little research on you, Barney. And despite your copious experience in the divorce space, you might want to rethink how aggressive to be when it comes to criminal law.”

“Criminal law? I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

“That’s why we’d like to talk to you, Barney,” Ryan reminded him.

“We’re not friends,” Hemsley barked. “You don’t get to call me Barney. And I still don’t know who you are. You could be some con man posing as a cop for all I know.”

Ryan removed his ID from his pocket in a casually unhurried manner before showing it to Hemsley. Jessie knew what he was up to. The hope was that Hemsley would get so riled that he’d do something impulsive— push one of them or make a sudden move—anything that would allow them to take him into custody, or at least threaten him with that to get the upper hand.

“My name is Detective Ryan Hernandez,” Ryan said slowly. “I’m with Homicide Special Section, a unit based out of downtown’s Central Station.”

Jessie saw Hemsley’s eyes widen briefly at the word “homicide” before he regained control of himself. He looked over at her.

“And who’s the skirt?’ he demanded derisively.

“The skirt?” Jessie repeated, laughing in his face as she pulled out her own ID. “What is this, 1947? The skirt is Jessie Hunt, criminal profiler based out of the same station. Now are you going to be responsive, Barney?”

She made sure to punch the name emphatically and saw that it had the desired effect. Hemsley’s face turned redder than his eyes and his breathing got puffy.

“I don’t think so,” he said wheezily. “Unless you have a warrant, you have no right to be here. And I’m not coming out. So you can go back downtown and question some of those street bums in your neck of the woods. I’m done with you.”

He started to slam the door but Ryan stuck his foot out before it could close, stopping it.

“That’s not going to work for me, Barney,” he said, popping hard on the “B” in his name. “You see, I heard what your gal pal in there said and I couldn’t help but notice white powder around her nostrils. So we’ve got plain view evidence supporting our suspicion that there is illegal drug activity going on in this house. We also have reason to be concerned that if we waited for a warrant, you would try to dispose of that evidence. We can’t allow that to happen.”

“You’re making that up,” Hemsley protested. “You didn’t see anything on Brandee’s nose.”

Ryan looked at Jessie, shaking his head in disappointment.

“That’s exactly what someone hiding large quantities of cocaine in his house would say,” he noted. “I’m afraid that’s not going to fly, Barney. So I’m going to give you one more chance. Come out here and answer our questions. It’s entirely possible that your honest responses could send us on our way. Or you can continue to be difficult and have the worst night of your life, at least until you try to comb that rat’s nest on your head.”

The line was so over the top that Jessie was sure Hemsley would sense that Ryan didn’t actually want him to suddenly become cooperative. He had to see that this detective was itching for him to do something, baiting him into a bad decision. But Barney seemed unaware. And since he was quite likely both drunk and high right now, she was pretty confident that he’d oblige. She was right.

“I pay your salary,” Hemsley shouted angrily. “You have no right to talk to me that way. I ought to put you in your place!”

“Are you threatening me, Barney?” Ryan asked, taking a half step forward and dangerously shrinking the empty space between

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