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

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Jessie decided to make the phone call.

She figured, and Ryan agreed, that it would raise fewer alarm bells if she initiated contact with Shane Willoughby. She also thought that if they could get their information without bringing up Sinclair’s death, it would simplify things, so she made no mention of it.

“We’re looking into issues related to inappropriate behavior by a local male tutor and wanted your input,” she explained after introducing herself.

“Oh, that’s horrible,” Willoughby exclaimed. “Who are you investigating?”

“I’m afraid that I’m not at liberty to reveal that,” Jessie told her.

“I certainly understand but I’m not sure how much help I can offer,” Willoughby said. “Our tutor is female.”

“Who’s that?” Jessie wondered innocently.

“Her name is Danielle Robertson,” Willoughby replied, “and she’s wonderful.”

“In that case, maybe you could give us the names of her other clients so we can exclude them from future calls. I don’t want to upset parents unnecessarily.”

“Sure,” she said, listing off a series of names, all of which Jessie was already familiar with.

“That’s incredibly helpful,” she said, before adding nonchalantly. “What about Avery and Willem Sinclair? I have them on my call list as well.”

“Oh, you can skip them too,” Willoughby assured her. “They don’t have a tutor at all, although they might be considering hiring Danielle.”

“What makes you say that?” Jessie asked, forcing down the rising excitement in her throat.

“Just that Avery was at our place a few weeks ago for a girls’ night and Danielle—she likes the kids to call her Junior, by the way—was working with my son, Braden. He and Avery’s boy, Rhett, are the same age and she asked if Danielle was helpful. I started singing her praises, so they talked briefly, and Avery took her number.”

“So Avery was going to hire her for sure?”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Willoughby said. ”Avery seemed convinced, but I”m not sure Danielle was.”

“Why not?” Jessie asked.

“Because Avery was, for lack of a better word, kind of bitchy to her. Avery has a lot of good qualities, but she can be sharp-elbowed with her barbs, and she was tossing them off fast and furious that day. Danielle knows how to deal with entitled people. Hell, I’m entitled. But Avery is a lot, and the poor girl looked a little put off. I’m not sure she wanted to deal with someone so biting on a regular basis.”

“Thanks very much, Mrs. Willoughby,” Jessie said. She felt like she had more than enough.

“Of course,” the woman replied. “Let me know if you need anything else. I just want our children to be safe.”

Jessie had barely hung up with Willoughby before she was suggesting a theory to Ryan and the researchers, who had been on speaker the whole time.

“I think I can explain why Sinclair was killed with that trophy instead of the poison,” she said.

“Please,” Ryan asked. He clearly knew better than to get in the way when she was on a roll.

“If Sinclair wasn’t a client yet, there was no easy way to plant a poison canister in her house,” Jessie said. “That means she would either have had to talk her way in, maybe at a scheduled meeting, or perhaps an impromptu one. Either way, I think that when she tried to plant the canister in Avery Sinclair’s bedroom, Sinclair found her. A struggle ensued, with Sinclair dead from blunt force trauma and Robertson rushing out because the poison canister went off accidentally.”

“Ms. Hunt?” Jamil said cautiously.

”You”re not going to shoot down my theory, are you, Jamil?”

“No,” he assured her. “I have some new information, but I didn’t want to interrupt you.”

“Interrupt away,” she told him.

“I got more robust GPS data for Danielle Robertson’s movements in recent months,” he said, “and I do find multiple instances of both her vehicle and phone in the Playa Vista area in the last couple of weeks. Neither of them are ever within more than a couple of hundred yards of Naomi Hackett’s apartment but she was definitely nearby. The last time she was there was on Saturday.”

Jessie viewed the information as a net positive.

“As far as I’m concerned, none of that disproves my theory,” she insisted. “Robertson could have just left her phone in her car while she went to Hackett’s apartment.”

“That’s certainly possible,” Ryan agreed, ”and you”ve offered a more than credible theory. Unfortunately, everything about it is just as circumstantial as the case we have against Vaughn, maybe more so.”

“What do you mean?” Jessie wanted to know.

“Well, for one thing, Danielle Robertson isn’t exactly an imposing figure,” he said. “Avery Sinclair was taller than her. I could more easily see Vaughn getting the upper hand on her in a struggle. And Robertson doesn’t seem like any more of a science expert than Vaughn. We can certainly talk to her again, but unless we have something more bulletproof, I don’t see Parker recommending that Chief Decker postpone his news conference.”

Jessie knew that Ryan wasn’t intentionally trying to undercut her. He was just doing his job, poking the same holes in the case that Parker would. But it was still frustrating. She tried to focus on the merits of his arguments and not take it personally. As she pondered what he’d said, one point he’d made struck her as unconvincing.

“Are we sure that Robertson isn’t more knowledgeable about science than we’re giving her credit for? She is an aspiring teacher after all, and just because she said that she didn’t understand upper level stuff doesn’t make it true.”

“What did she say she majored in again?” Ryan tried to recall. “Was it Child Development?”

“That was her major,” Beth informed them, the tone of her voice suggesting she had come across something interesting. “But reviewing her academic records, it looks like she only switched to that after her freshman year.”

“What was it before that?” Jessie asked excitedly.

Beth paused for a long beat before answering.

“Biochemistry.”

Jessie felt a sudden desire to punch her fist in the air. But before she even got the chance, she heard a familiar voice on the other end of the line.

“Excuse me,” Captain Parker said. She had apparently walked into the research department back at Central Station. ”I know you all are in the thick of it right now, but I need to take a moment of your time.”

The odd formality in Parker’s voice sent a shiver through Jessie. Something was terribly wrong.

“Is Dr. Lemmon okay?” she demanded immediately.

“As far as I know, she’s fine, Ms. Hunt,” Parker told her. ”This is about something else. Hank Costabile is missing.”

The shiver that Jessie had felt moments earlier turned into a full-body quake.