Chapter 25
On Monday morning, Warner Wilson walked into the police station unable to keep the smile off his face.
Last night, he’d been handed the kind of case he’d dreamed of since he’d joined the Palm Springs Police Department a year ago.
A dead body, a big movie star, and several members of the Hollywood elite as witnesses? Who could have asked for anything more salacious?
He had no doubt the case was going to make him a star in his own right. He might even get his own true crime TV show out of it.
Of course, technically it wasn’t considered a murder at the moment, as the coroner had not yet determined cause of death.
What the coroner had discovered was that the woman had died sometime on Sunday morning by a means other than drowning.
So, someone had to have put her in the pool, which in Wilson’s mind was not something one would do if murder wasn’t involved.
And the best part? The murderer’s identity had been obvious to him from the moment he found out about the fight at Damian Leon’s party on Saturday night.
Lane’s death was revenge, pure and simple.
From the movie star’s assistant, Wilson had learned the name of the other person in the fight. The fact that the man had been reluctant to provide that information had just made Wilson more confident that Emma Perez was guilty.
Less convinced of Emma’s involvement, Sanchez and Jensen had wanted to question her right away to determine if she should be on the suspect list or not. Wilson had put a quick stop to that.
“Let her sweat overnight,” he’d told them. “We can pay her a visit tomorrow.”
The truth was he didn’t care one iota about letting her sweat. All he wanted to do was to string things out. After all, he couldn’t have the case that was going to make him famous wrap up in just a few hours.
As he passed through the detective bullpen, he said, “Sanchez, Jensen,” and pointed at his office.
They followed him in.
“Close the door,” Wilson said.
Jensen did so, and they all sat.
“Anything from the M.E. yet?” Wilson asked, referring to the medical examiner.
“Only that Lane’s time of death appears to be between eight a.m. and eleven a.m. Sunday morning,” Sanchez said.
“What about the cause?”
“He said he’d let us know when he had something,” Jensen replied.
“Does he not understand how important this is?” Wilson said, frustrated.
“He’s working as fast as he can,” Sanchez said.
“Sure he is,” Wilson grumbled. “Then tell me everything we have on Perez.”
Sanchez looked at his notes. “Dr. Emma Perez, age twenty-eight. Lives in—”
“Doctor?” Wilson said.
“Yes.”
“Does she work at the hospital or in private practice?”
“She’s not that kind of doctor,” Jensen said.
“What the hell does that mean?”
“Her degree is in engineering,” Sanchez said.
“That’s a thing?”
Sanchez and Jensen shared a look, then Sanchez said, “It is.”
Wilson rolled his eyes. “Fine. Go on.”
“Dr. Perez lives in Thousand Palms and works at Richards Renewable Energy, based here in town.”
“Never heard of them.”
“They’re big into wind turbines,” Sanchez said.
“They also go by RRE,” Jensen threw in.
“Ah, RRE,” Wilson said, nodding like that cleared things up. It didn’t.
Sanchez rattled off the rest of her biography.
“Any arrests?” Wilson asked.
“No,” Jensen said.
“Nothing?”
“No, sir.”
“Parking tickets?”
“No parking tickets.”
“That doesn’t mean anything. She’s obviously very smart, so she’s probably good at covering her tracks.”
Sanchez’s brow furrowed.
“What?” Wilson asked him.
“Do you think she put the body in the pool?”
“Who else would have done it?” Wilson said. “Why? You don’t think she did?”
Sanchez paused for a moment before saying, “I guess that’s possible.”
“You only guess?”
“It’s just—”
Jensen said quickly, “Perhaps we should talk to her first. See if she has an alibi.”
“We’re going to do more than talk to her,” Wilson said.
“What do you mean?”
“Draw up a search warrant. One of you will come with me to talk to her, and the other will search her place.”
“No judge will approve a warrant,” Sanchez said. “There’s no probable cause.”
“Write it up and give it to me. I’ll deal with the judge.”
“Sure, Captain,” Jensen said. “Whatever you want.”
“That’s the attitude I expect all the time.”
Under his breath, Sanchez muttered, “If you want attitude, I’d be happy to give it to you.”
Wilson’s eyes narrowed. “What was that?”
“Nothing, Captain. Just making a mental note about attitude.”
“Good. See that you don’t forget.”
“No chance of that.”