The Perfect Show (A Jessie Hunt Psychological Suspense Thriller—Book Thirty-Three)

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Jessie didn’t love this situation.

She had hoped to catch Landon Powers in between training sessions. But with all the traffic, they didn’t make it to the Pier Harbor Club in Santa Monica’s fancy Aqua Commons complex until 8:30. Powers would likely be right in the middle of his session, and less amenable to chatting. Not that they had to accommodate him, but she preferred that they start off friendly and see where things went from there. Their arrival time might make that difficult.

There was no parking allowed on the street outside the Aqua Commons, a sprawling campus that included everything from an artisanal bakery to two plastic surgery practices to a dog spa. Landon Powers’s health club was on the first floor, but they had to park underground to access it. As they pulled in, a valet immediately approached them, but Ryan rolled down his window and held out his badge.

“We’re going to self-park today,” he informed the young man. “Where’s your loading zone?”

The valet pointed to an area near the elevators.

“Perfect,” Ryan told him. “I’ll put on my hazards when we park. Please make sure that no one tries to tow us.”

He pulled in and they headed up, where the elevator opened on a giant atrium with glass ceilings. The entrance to the Pier Harbor Club was just off to the side. Once they stepped inside, Jessie noted that the place was essentially a large “D,” curling around from the entry doors, with a hallway near the front that allowed access to either side of the facility. They were greeted by a receptionist who offered them some bottled water before asking for their proof of membership. Ryan again displayed his badge.

“We’re looking for Landon Powers,” he said quietly. “Can you point him out to me?”

The young woman”s eyes widened, but she nodded and pointed at the far end of the gym, where it began to curve around.

“He’s the blond guy in the black sleeveless muscle t-shirt,” she said, “working with Mrs. Fortenbras, the woman in the purple leggings.”

“Thanks,” “Ryan said before turning to Jessie. “Do you want to come along or hold back, in case he gets feisty?”

Jessie thought about it.

“Normally I’d like to be there to get his initial reaction to being confronted by a cop,” she acknowledged, “but in this case, with so many free weights lying around, maybe I’ll let you make the initial contact, just to protect my noggin if he gets feisty.”

”I like the way you”re thinking, Hunt,” Ryan said, smiling.

Jessie was happy to oblige on these small issues. She knew he was still concerned about her being in the field mere months after her brain surgery, and if a concession like this set him more at ease, she was cool with them.

Ryan started in the direction of Landon Powers and Mrs. Fortenbras. As he approached, Jessie took particular notice of the nature of the training session. Powers was standing behind the woman, who looked to be in her mid-forties, helping to brace her as she did bicep curls using an EZ bar.

What Jessie noted with interest was just how closely Powers was standing behind her. He was literally pressed up against her, with no space between the front of his body and the back of hers. In addition, as he guided her through the curls, he leaned in so close that he seemed to be grazing her ear with his lips as he whispered advice on what Jessie assumed was proper lifting form. It was clear that Landon Powers’s training technique was on the intimate side. Jessie couldn’t help but wonder just how intimate.

Ryan waited until they completed their set to engage him. Jessie saw Powers visibly stiffen at the sight of the formal-acting man in the suit jacket and slacks. She couldn’t hear what Ryan said, but even before he’d had a chance to pull out his badge, Powers suddenly made run for it, pushing Mrs. Fortenbras at Ryan and sprinting toward the main entrance and Jessie.

While his reaction was unexpected, Jessie didn”t let it throw her. Instead, she stepped to the side so that the trainer had a seemingly clear path to the exit. But just as he was about to pass between her and the reception desk, she extended her right leg to the side, clipping his shin with her foot.

Powers flew forward and landed hard on his stomach. Before he could scramble to his feet again, Ryan, who had caught up by now, dropped to a knee, which he dug into the man”s lower back as he yanked one of Powers”s arms behind him and snapped a handcuff on his wrist. A second later, the other wrist was cuffed as well.

“What the hell?” Powers bellowed, his words slightly muffled by the carpeting his mouth was pressed down against.

“That was a mistake, Landon,” Ryan said, before lifting the man to his feet, “We’re LAPD and we need to have a chat.”

***

Before taking Powers down to Central Station, or even a closer one, Jessie and Ryan decided to conduct their initial questioning here at the club. The manager of the place reluctantly provided them with one of their business suites. Ryan slammed Powers down into a chair while Jessie locked the door behind them.

”Listen, man,” Powers began, even before he”d been asked a question. ”I didn”t realize that you were a cop. I thought you were Gayle”s husband, and I freaked out for a second. I never would have bailed like that if I knew who you were.”

“Do you often have to break into a desperate escape because well-dressed men approach you?” Jessie wondered.

“No,” Landon insisted. “But this guy was walking up to me, not dressed for the gym, and had a real stern look on his face while I was…working with Mrs. Fortenbras. I guess I jumped to conclusions.”

”Well, here”s your opportunity to make it up to us,” Jessie told him. ”We understand that you”ve recently trained Clarissa Langley, Tabitha Reynolds, and Naomi Hacket. Is that correct?”

Powers eyed her suspiciously. “I guess it depends on what you mean by recently.”

“This isn’t the time to be a smartass,” Ryan told him.

”Sorry,” the trainer said unconvincingly, ”I didn”t realize it was a crime to have multiple female clients.”

Ryan looked at Jessie, who nodded that he should go for it. She fixed her gaze on Powers, watching him closely.

“It’s not a crime,” the detective said, “but murdering them is.”

Powers looked at him in disbelief, like he was making a bad joke. But when Ryan’s expression didn’t change, the trainer’s eyes got panicky.

“Wait, are you saying they’re all dead?”

”Not just dead,” Ryan reiterated, ”murdered. Now, is there anything you want to tell us about that?”

Powers looked at him, then at Jessie, before returning his attention to Ryan.

“No!” he blurted out. “I don’t know anything about that, I swear.”

“It’s just that we find it odd that all three women were clients of yours,” Ryan pushed. “What are the chances of that?”

“I don’t know, man, but I didn’t kill anybody,” he insisted. “When you mentioned them all, I thought you were going to say I violated some kind of professional trainers’ code or something.”

“Why would we say that?” Jessie asked. “What did you do?”

“Nothing,” Powers pleaded, “I mean nothing illegal. Sure, I admit that Clarissa and I would hook up from time to time. She was an attractive lady, and she didn’t seem all that focused on her vows. She called me her personal stress reliever. But I mean, we were consenting adults.”

“What about the other women?” Jessie demanded.

Powers paused for a second, then seemed to decide there was no point in hiding his activities.

”Tabitha and I dated on and off for a few weeks, maybe a month,” he admitted. ”I guess she had recently gotten divorced and was sowing her oats, you know. But it didn”t work out, and it would have been awkward to keep training her, so we decided to part ways. It wasn”t that big a deal, at least I didn”t think so.”

“And Naomi Hackett?” Jessie asked.

“That’s why I thought I might be in trouble,” Powers explained.

“Why?” Ryan pressed.

“We never hooked up,” he answered. “I mean, there were lots of opportunities. I trained her at both her Palisades house and her apartment in Playa Vista. And I thought she might be into me, so I made a move. Turned out I was way off. She said she was happily married and that she didn’t feel comfortable working with me anymore, so she ended our sessions. I thought maybe she was accusing me of something more than hitting on her, which is all it was, I promise.”

“It seems like a lot of your professional relationships end up getting personal, and then ending badly, “Jessie observed. “You ever get frustrated by that? Maybe a little angry?”

“No way,” he said. “Usually someone just ghosts the other person. I’ve never been mad about it, and no one has ever come after me. Stuff just fizzles out, you know?”

As Jessie studied the man, she had to admit that she found it hard to buy him as a killer. He didn’t strike her as the kind of guy who could properly set up an aerosolized poison canister without accidentally gassing himself. Then again, she had met more than one murderer who threw off suspicion by playing dumb. Regardless of her doubts, she pressed on.

“Where were you yesterday between the hours of 4 p.m. and 9:30?”

“Um, I know that part of that time I was training a couple of people at their homes. I had a session here in Santa Monica at six and another one in Venice after that. I can give you their names if you want.”

Jessie noted that those windows of time didn’t exonerate him. Tabitha Reynolds had died between four and six. Naomi Hacket had passed away between nine and nine-thirty. Beyond that, the canisters’ timers could have been set well in advance in order to provide him with an out. Traditional alibis wouldn’t be of much help in this case.

“What about on Wednesday between three and seven?” Ryan asked, though it was clear from his tone that he was also aware of the limitations of this line of questioning.

Powers eyes lit up. “I was at a convention in Anaheim all day on Wednesday. I left at about six in the morning and didn’t get back until around ten at night. Does that get me off?” he asked hopefully.

“Actually, no,” Jessie said, though with each passing moment, one thing became increasingly clear. With or without an alibi, they didn’t have enough to arrest Landon Powers right now.

They had to let him go. The question was: were they releasing an innocent man? Or a killer?