by Blake Pierce
“But he didn’t?” Ryan said.
“No. He came back hard. He demanded to know how she could do that without talking to him first. He called her a bitch. He said she had ruined his life. I was surprised. He’s usually such a timid guy. Even under the circumstances, it seemed out of character for him.”
“Did you reach out to him after that?” Jessie asked.
“What? To defend my wife’s honor? Nothing he said was wrong, if you ask me. Besides, it’s not like I was going to go there and fight the guy. I knew that he’d get what he deserved from Eliza. She would crush him.”
“Is Eliza the ‘crushing’ type?’ Ryan asked.
“All I know is, as pissed as I was, you can probably double it for her. She and Penny have known each other forever. They swapped juice boxes in grade school. And then her own husband made a move on Penny. It can’t have been pretty.”
“Was it pretty in your house?” Jessie wondered.
“It wasn’t as ugly as you might think. Because of Colt, screaming matches aren’t really an option in our home. If we start yelling at each other, he melts down. Escalating any situation only makes it worse. And by the time he and Ana went to bed, Penny had taken her sleeping pill. She wasn’t in a place to hash things out. So I decided to let it lie for a day. I figured things would be clearer today. That worked out great.”
The detectives were all silent for several seconds, not sure how to respond to Colton Wooten’s reaction to his wife’s death.
“I assume you won’t mind us checking your car’s GPS data,” Brady finally said, “to confirm your whereabouts this morning.”
“My alibi, you mean?” he replied caustically. “I assumed you already had.”
*
Ten minutes later, they stepped out of the glass elevator and walked through the building’s lobby to the parking structure across the street.
“Did you even consider arresting him?” Jessie asked Brady, unable to contain the frustration that had been building up since they left Wooten’s office.
“On what grounds?” he asked indignantly.
“His alibi is questionable at best. He wasn’t honest about his wife’s affair and he’s got a perfect motive.”
Brady looked at her with self-righteous exasperation.
“His alibi will either be proved or disproved within the hour. Not mentioning the affair in an initial interview, while suspicious, isn’t a crime. He wasn’t under oath. And he’s one of at least three people with a solid motive. We need something more definitive than that to take him into custody.”
“Are you sure those are the reasons?” she needled.
“Just to be clear, you seem to be suggesting that I didn’t cuff him back there because he’s running for DA, right? Do you really think, after what I just laid out, that doing so would have been the wisest course of action?”
“I’m just trying to make sure your top priority is solving this case and not avoiding a scandal.”
“With all due respect, Jessie, I think I can do both,” he said, stopping. “I’m going to check in with the station. You two go ahead. I’ll meet you at the car.”
He pulled out his phone as Jessie and Ryan continued walking to the parking structure.
“Something on your mind?” Ryan asked when they were out of earshot.
“What do you mean?” Jessie asked.
“First you treated Eliza Longworth like she was an ex-con out on parole. Then you pushed for a former prosecutor to be arrested in his office. And now you go after Brady. It seems like you’re ready to throw everyone behind bars today.”
Jessie stopped at and stared at him, frustrated by his comments.
“You don’t think I’m just employing some professional skepticism?”
“I think it goes a little beyond that,” Ryan said. “Skepticism is good. In fact, it’s essential in our line of work. But you still have to be open to the possibility that people are occasionally telling you the truth.”
Jessie resumed walking, trying to take in his words without absorbing any judgment.
“I guess I’ve just been burned a lot by assuming the best in people,” she said slowly. “It happened with Kyle and again with the Andrea Robinson case, so I’m just trying to stay objective. With Eliza Longworth, I recognize her situation. Hell, I was in her situation. So I feel a connection to her. I don’t want that to cloud my judgment so I have to be hard on her. Maybe I was too hard. And then, to be fair to her, I had to be equally harsh on Wooten. And since he was such a jerk, that came easily, maybe too easy. I don’t know. Maybe all that FBI training messed me up.”
“Or,” Ryan countered, “maybe you’re just a little nervous and rusty because you haven’t done this in a live situation in a few months.”
“Maybe,” Jessie admitted.
“So cut yourself a little slack. Just don’t cut up every person we interview in the process. Sound good?”
“Sounds goo—” Jessie started to say, before being cut off by a loud popping sound less than a hundred feet away.
She reached for her sidearm, then remembering she didn’t have one yet, dropped to the ground, lying prone on the parking garage cement. After about five seconds of silence, she looked up at Ryan. He was staring down at her with a stunned look on his face.
“I’m pretty sure it was just a backfire,” he said.
“You’re probably right,” she said, sheepishly getting back to her feet. “Still, better safe than sorry.”
“Really?” he said, dubious. “That struck me as more than just caution. You’ve been skittish all day. You want to tell me what has you so sketched out?”
“Just ‘first day back’ jitters, I guess.”
“I don’t believe that for one second,” he said.
In the distance, Jessie saw Brady walking toward them.
“Let it lie for now,” she said quietly. “I’ll fill you in later.”
“Please,” Ryan insisted, “because this can’t continue.”
Jessie nodded even as she wondered how she would broach the subject.
Yeah, maybe at lunch over a ham and cheese sandwich I’ll tell you how my serial killer dad is currently hunting down my address.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Jessie’s suspect list seemed to be in constant flux.
They were just arriving at Gray Longworth’s commercial real estate brokerage firm in Venice when Brady got a call from Officer Mueller. This time, he didn’t put it on speaker. After about thirty seconds, he hung up.
“Got some news,” he said.
“We kind of figured, Brady,” Ryan replied. “Good or bad?”
“Depends on who you are. I’m guessing Colt Jr. and Anastasia will be happy about it. We got the details of Wooten’s vehicle GPS data. It shows that he arrived at work when he said he did. We also checked the security footage from his building. It shows him entering but not leaving.”
“Couldn’t he have snuck out some alternate exit and taken a rideshare back to the house?” Jessie asked.
“I suppose it’s technically possible,” Brady answered. “But that gives him a really small window to get there, kill his wife, and return to work in time for his meeting.”
“Fair point,” Jessie acknowledged, noting Brady’s surprise at her willingness to concede the argument. “So maybe we put him in the ‘unlikely’ bucket of suspects.”
“Yeah,” Ryan agreed as he pulled into a street parking spot. “But let’s not eliminate him completely. He could have hired someone. A former prosecutor would know people willing to do that kind of work. I’m not ready to cross him off just yet.”
They got out and walked the half block to Longworth’s office. Considering he was in commercial real estate, the building was surprisingly uninspiring. Composed mostly of dull, eggshell-colored concrete, it looked particularly out of place situated in the middle of this funky section of Venice. Along the short walk from the car to his office, they passed a vegan restaurant, an organic clothing store, and a mariju
ana dispensary. His building stood out by not standing out.
They entered the lobby, where Ryan flashed his badge at the receptionist.
“We need to speak to Gray Longworth,” he said tersely.
The woman looked taken aback and glanced at a spiral notebook on the desk in front of her.
“It appears he’s in a meeting right now. I’ll let him know when it’s over. Please have a seat.”
“His meeting’s over,” Ryan said firmly. “Please show us to his office now.”
Despite clearly being flustered, the receptionist did as she was asked. Ryan took the lead. As Jessie and Brady trailed behind, she leaned over and muttered to him.
“I think I can guess who played good cop and who played bad cop when you interrogated suspects.”
“We had our roles,” Brady conceded. “But in this case I think Ryan just wants to get in there and question Longworth before the guy has a chance to prepare himself.”
“Prepare himself for what?”
“For learning of Penelope Wooten’s death. Unlike you, I’m no profiler, so I need pretty overt visual cues to tell me if a suspect is genuinely surprised by news or is faking. This should help with that.”
They reached Longworth’s office, which was separated from the long hallway by a glass wall and door. He was on the phone and looked up when the receptionist opened the door.
“Mr. Longworth,” she said, “these detectives are here to speak with you.”
He stared as the three of them filed into the room one after the other. After a moment of mutual silence, he spoke into the phone.
“I’ll have to call you back,” he said. “Something…came up.”
He hung up and continued staring at them, his expression a mix of confusion and apprehension.
Jessie gave him a once-over. Gray Longworth wasn’t a large man, maybe no taller than his wife. His blond hair was wispy and his fair skin looked like it might not survive a half hour in the sun. And yet there was something about him that made Jessie get why Eliza might go for him.
Despite Colton Wooten’s description of him as milquetoast, he carried himself with a hint of mischievousness that was intriguing. She imagined it was more pronounced when he wasn’t facing three members of law enforcement
“May we sit?” Ryan asked, though it didn’t sound like he needed permission.
Longworth nodded and all three of them took seats opposite him.
“What can I do for you, officers?” he asked hesitantly.
“Detectives, actually,” Ryan said. “We need to ask you a few questions about Penelope Wooten.”
At the sound of her name Gray Longworth’s eyes grew as large as saucers.
“What about her?’ he asked, his voice quavering, all hint of roguishness disappearing.
“Before we begin our questions, is there anything you want to tell us?”
Jessie saw what Ryan was doing. Longworth seemed shaken. If he didn’t know exactly what the police were aware of, maybe he’d inadvertently reveal something they didn’t know yet. Longworth looked on the verge of panic, as if he were weighing some momentous decision. Finally, he spoke.
“I didn’t mean to do it.”
There was a moment of silence in which Jessie wondered if Ryan might give the man his Miranda rights. If he was about to confess, they’d want that out of the way.
“Didn’t mean to do what?” Ryan asked slowly.
“To send that text,” he answered. “The second I sent it, I wished I could retract it. You have to understand. I was upset. She’d just told me that she’d revealed everything to my wife. I could see my whole world collapsing around me. So I lashed out. It was wrong, I know. But is really it a crime?”
“Mr. Longworth,” Brady said, speaking for the first time, “are you telling us that your only admission at this time is to sending a nasty text?”
“No,” Longworth replied. “I mean, I’m also admitting to the affair. But I know that’s not a crime. I didn’t think the text was either. Did she file a restraining order or something? Because it’s not necessary.”
“Mr. Longworth,” Ryan said, ignoring the question, “where were you this morning between the hours of six and eight a.m.?”
“What? I don’t know. Why?” Longworth asked, flustered.
“Just answer the question, please.”
“Don’t you have to tell me what this is all about?” he demanded, standing up. The quaver had returned to his voice but now it was mixed with petulant indignation. “It sounds like you are asking me for an alibi. I feel like you aren’t being straight with me.”
“I’m just asking you a question, Mr. Longworth,” Ryan said. “Are you refusing to answer me? Because a man who has nothing to hide probably wouldn’t react to a simple question in this manner.”
Gray Longworth stepped out from behind his desk and walked across the room to open the glass door.
“Please leave,” he said, holding it open.
Jessie couldn’t help but notice that he was not living up to his milquetoast reputation.
“It doesn’t work like that, Mr. Longworth,” Ryan said, not moving an inch. “Now if you are refusing to answer questions, that’s your right. In fact, I’m about to list a whole series of rights to you, including your right to an attorney. But if I take that step, it means I’m about to take you into custody. Is that the step you want me to take?”
“Take me into custody for what?” Longworth said belligerently, getting dangerously close to Ryan. “For not wanting to chat about how my marriage might be over because I was screwing my wife’s best friend?”
“No, Mr. Longworth. I’d take you into custody on suspicion of murdering your wife’s best friend.”
“Wait? What?”
This was the moment Jessie had been waiting for. Gray Longworth’s face was the picture of shock. His hostile demeanor morphed into crestfallen dismay. The problem was, Jessie couldn’t be sure if he was surprised that Penelope Wooten was dead, that he was potentially being arrested for it, or if he was faking the whole thing.
“Do I need to cuff you Mr. Longworth,” Ryan persisted, “or are you willing to answer my questions?”
“Penny’s dead?” he asked, sounding as if he hadn’t completely understood.
“She is,” Ryan assured him. “Does that come as a surprise to you?”
Longworth’s expression changed suddenly from alarm to rage. His face turned red.
“How dare you…” he started to shout as he shoved both hands into Ryan’s chest.
It was a mistake. Ryan was half a head taller and forty pounds heavier than Longworth. He was also trained in close quarters combat. It took about four seconds for him to knock Longworth’s arms away, knee him in the groin, shove him to the ground face first, put his knee in the small of the man’s back, and slap handcuffs on him.
“Need a hand?” Brady asked, amused.
“I’m good,” Ryan replied, before reading Longworth his rights. When he was done, he pulled the man to his feet and led him out of the office.
“You can’t do this,” Longworth protested. “I haven’t done anything wrong.”
“You assaulted a law enforcement officer,” Brady noted as they walked down the hall. “If you don’t think that’s wrong, I’m worried about what else you consider within the bounds of appropriate behavior.”
Jessie wondered the same thing.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Jessie didn’t know what to make of Gray Longworth.
As she stared at him through the one-way mirror of an interrogation room at West L.A. Station, she couldn’t tell if his nervous sweating was due to general anxiety at his situation or fear of getting busted for something far worse than shoving a cop.
“You ready?” Ryan asked, poking his head in. “I think we’ve let him stew long enough.”
“What has it been, thirty minutes?” she asked. “And he still hasn’t asked for a lawyer?”
“Nope. And he’s offering to talk too. Brady
thinks he’s hoping he can get me to drop the assault charge if he charms me.”
“Can he?” Jessie asked.
“I’m happy to let him think so if it turns him into a Chatty Cathy.”
“So do we have a plan of action?”
“I say we let him vent a little. He’ll probably want to justify himself. Brady will appear sympathetic to that so that he’s more forthcoming.”
“In that case,” Jessie suggested, “maybe I should hang in here for a little bit. Having a woman in there about his wife’s age might make him feel more judged than he would otherwise. Give me a signal when you’re really ready to bear down on him and I’ll join the party. Maybe seeing me walk in will get him sweating more than he already is.”
“Sounds good,” Ryan agreed and closed the door.
Jessie pulled out a chair and settled in as if she were preparing to watch a movie. Only for this screening she had a pen, a pad of paper, and the knowledge that she would soon be talking to the main character.
A few seconds later, Brady and Ryan walked in and sat across the table from Longworth. No one spoke for several seconds. Eventually, Ryan leaned forward and spoke in almost a whisper.
“You know, the way you came at me back at your office doesn’t really jibe with the way Colton Wooten described you.”
Longworth squirmed in his chair, as if struggling with whether or not to respond. Eventually it became clear that he wouldn’t be able to stop himself.
“What did he say?” he finally asked.
“He said you were a milquetoast kind of guy.”
“Yeah, well, Colt can shove it where the sun doesn’t shine.”
“Whoa,” Ryan said, feigning surprise. “Sounds like there might be a little animosity there. That must have been fun on your dual family trips.”
“I guess we won’t be having any more of those,” Longworth replied.
The comment sat there in all its ugliness for a good while before he tried to clean it up.
