by Blake Pierce
Jessie stared at him in stunned silence. Dolan stepped into the void.
“Are you acknowledging that you had a relationship with Ms. Stanton?”
“I wouldn’t really call it a relationship. But we were involved, yes. That is, until she tried to pressure me to pay her to stay quiet.”
Jessie looked over at Gayle Jerebko, whose tight expression was somewhere between a smile and a grimace. Clearly, she was not loving this.
“You were aware of this relationship?” Jessie asked her.
“I was made aware of it recently,” she said tersely. “After this woman tried to blackmail Milt, he came clean to me rather than pay.”
“And how has that been for you?” Jessie couldn’t help but ask, even though it wasn’t strictly professional.
“I can’t say that the last few days have been the greatest of my life. First, learning your husband has been unfaithful. Then finding out his mistress is trying to extort him. But it was the right course of action. Paying would have just made things worse. This way, her threats have no power.”
“What about with the voters?” Jessie countered. “Even if you don’t hold this against him, they might.”
“My constituents are very understanding,” Jerebko said, shifting effortlessly into politician mode. “This is a pretty forgiving community. In my experience, as long as you are doing the work of the people, folks around here don’t get too exercised about personal peccadilloes. I had been toying with the idea of a press conference to get everything out in the open. Now that it looks like law enforcement is involved, I’m even more certain that I should. It will be hard on Gayle and the kids, who did nothing to bring this about. But it’s the right thing to do. How long do I have? Has she been arrested?”
“No, she hasn’t,” Dolan said flatly.
“Why not?” Jerebko asked.
“Because she was murdered.”
CHAPTER NINE
Jessie knew it was coming.
The way Dolan set it up, she could tell ahead of time that he was about to drop the bomb. She wondered if he’d done that deliberately so that she could prepare herself to watch the couple’s reactions. If so, it worked. When the words came out of his mouth, her eyes were fixed on the Jerebkos.
Both of them looked legitimately stunned. But there was more. In Milton’s case, she saw the wheels turn almost immediately, as he processed the fact that he was almost certainly a suspect. Gayle’s shock seemed intermingled with something close to satisfaction, perhaps at the fact that the woman who had upended her life was no longer drawing breath. Both reactions were unflattering. But neither necessarily indicated any guilt.
“How?” Milton finally managed to gasp.
“For obvious reasons, we can’t really get into the details at this time,” Dolan said. “But we are going to need statements from both of you regarding your whereabouts last night.”
“You’re suggesting we had a hand in this?” Gayle asked, her back growing stiff.
“It’s not an outrageous possibility,” Dolan said. “Especially in light of what you’ve told us…and what you haven’t.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Milton spat, his charm fading fast.
“Well, Councilman, you neglected to mention your threat toward Ms. Stanton over a dating app.”
“Dating app?” Gayle repeated, perplexed. “You met this woman on an app?”
Milton’s expression went from self-righteous to sheepish in an instant.
“Whoa, it looks like you two still have a bit to discuss,” Dolan said, chuckling to himself before turning suddenly serious. “In the meantime, care to address the threat, sir?”
“What threat?”
“The threat to ‘end her’ if she went public about your indiscretion.”
“Oh, Jesus,” Jerebko groaned. “That’s not what it seems like. I meant end her financially. My lawyers were going to sue her into the ground—defamation, fraud, anything they could come up with. I’d never actually hurt someone physically.”
“Do you have any proof that this was a legal and not a physical threat?” Jessie asked.
“I talked to my lawyers the same day she messaged me. I’ll waive attorney-client privilege if it will help prove that.”
“One doesn’t preclude the other,” Dolan said.
“What?”
“Threatening her legally doesn’t preclude you from going after her physically,” he said.
“Oh my god,” Jerebko said, looking truly flustered.
“Where were you last night, Mr. Jerebko?” Jessie asked, hoping to get a more honest answer now, when he was less composed.
“I was in San Diego. I just drove back this morning.”
“We’ll have to verify that,” Jessie said before turning to Gayle. “Where were you, ma’am?”
“I was here,” she said, still looking somewhat dazed at the sudden turn of events. “I played board games with my kids, then went to bed.”
“You play board games with your kids?” Murph asked, speaking for the first time. Dolan shot him an annoyed look.
“Yes,” she answered. “Trivial Pursuit, Scattergories. We have ‘no media’ nights where we just hang out—no phones, no TV, just live, personal interaction.”
“And your kids will vouch for that?” Jessie asked, wanting to get away from the humanity of the suspects and keep them on the defensive.
“If they have to,” Gayle replied. “I’d rather protect them from this if possible. Maybe you can check my phone GPS or something instead? But if you require it, then yes, they can vouch for my whereabouts.”
“And what about you, Councilman?” Dolan asked, turning his attention back to Milton. “Who in San Diego can vouch for you?”
“I don’t know,” Jerebko said uncertainly. “I went there for a conference in the afternoon. But I didn’t see many people after that.”
“Maybe at the hotel you stayed at? Perhaps the front desk agent who checked you in?”
“It was pretty crowded,” he said unconvincingly. “I doubt he’d remember me.”
“All right,” Dolan pressed. “Then just give us the hotel name and we’ll check it out for you.”
“I don’t recall it offhand,” Jerebko replied. “But I can get it for you.”
“You don’t have a receipt, Councilman?” Dolan asked skeptically.
Jerebko looked at him angrily.
“Why do keep saying ‘councilman’ like it’s a bad word?” he demanded.
“I’m just trying to get to the bottom of things, sir,” Dolan said calmly.
Of course Jessie knew that wasn’t the case. As she’d suspected, he was using the title because it reminded Jerebko that he held the public’s trust and that in some way, either large or small, he had broken it. He knew that would eat at the guy and possibly force him into a mistake of some kind. It finally seemed to be working.
“I think it’s time you left,” Jerebko said, seeming to regain some of his authority.
“I think it’s time you came with us,” Dolan replied quietly, quickly undermining it again. “You can do that as a respected public official, quietly and voluntarily coming into the station to help out with an ongoing investigation. Or we can do it more formally. I can read your rights and take you into custody. You can request a lawyer. Of course, the media might somehow find out about all this and stake us out as we brought you through the front door of the police station. That would be unfortunate. It’s your call, Mr. Jerebko.”
The man stood there, weighing his choice. As he did, Dolan added something that surprised Jessie.
“A bit of advice,” he said quietly. “If what you’re hiding is anything less than murder, you’re better off coming in of your own accord. Whatever it is, we can probably work it out. If you killed her, you may as well let me arrest you and call your lawyer once we get there.”
Jerebko looked at him with the most hangdog expression Jessie had seen in a long time. Then, in almost a whisper, he replied.
“Can I go to the bathroom first?” he asked pathetically.
*
Navigating the station was tricky.
While Dolan took Jerebko to the conference room for an informal, voluntary, not-yet-arrested interview, Murph made sure the coast was clear for Jessie to get through the halls without being seen by anyone who might blab about her presence.
She got the go-ahead. As she walked quickly to the conference room, Jessie couldn’t shake the generalized feeling that even here she was unsafe. After all, Central Station was the one place that both Crutchfield and her father knew to look for her.
She doubted that either could access the facility—the security precautions were impressive even before she got formal Marshal Service protection. But even with all the safety measures the marshals were taking, all it would take was a single slip-up for one or both of them to find out she was here and follow her to her next location.
Frank Corcoran, the supervising agent, had assured her that multiple layers of protection had been put in place around the station which she had been intentionally kept unaware of. He warned that she might somehow inadvertently reveal their procedures with a glance or misplaced word. She found the suggestion borderline insulting but held her tongue, choosing not to fight that battle.
Part of her wondered if the marshals were intentionally putting her at risk, to use her as bait to draw out either killer. Then again, she had to admit that she was the one who’d insisted on coming to the station in the first place, not them.
When she finally entered the conference room, with Murph right behind her, Jerebko was sitting forlornly on a metal folding chair at the small card table in the center of the room. Dolan stood in the corner, scrolling through his phone. She took a long, deep breath and mentally pushed thoughts of any killers except Claire’s from her mind.
“Glad you could join us,” Dolan said when she walked in. “I was worried you got lost.”
She didn’t respond, not wanting to give Jerebko a hint that there was any animosity between his interrogators. Instead she sat down in a folding chair across from Jerebko and stared at him. He looked everywhere but at her.
“Mr. Jerebko,” she finally said, taking the initiative before anyone else did, “I’m not a detective. I’m a criminal profiler. And my profile of you suggests that you were not being forthright about your time in San Diego. But to be honest, a pre-school teacher could have discerned the same thing. Your attempts to come up with an alibi would embarrass a three-year-old. So now that it’s just us here, without your disappointed wife, why don’t you save us all some time and come clean?”
She glanced at Dolan, who was now standing behind the councilman. He didn’t say anything but his half-smile suggested he approved of her tactic. And with good reason, it turned out. Seconds later, Jerebko was spilling his guts.
“I was in San Diego yesterday,” he insisted before admitting, “but I didn’t spend the night there.”
“Where were you?” she asked, keeping all judgment out of her voice.
“I paid for the room for the night but left and drove back to LA to meet someone.”
“Who was that?” Jessie asked, trying to stay patient as she pulled the details out of him.
“I had another date with a different girl from the site.”
“You weren’t worried about additional blackmail threats?”
“A little. But the truth is, I was…lonely. Things were over with Claire and, as you can imagine, Gayle wasn’t going to be in an amorous mood. So I made a date.”
“We’ll need her name,” Jessie said.
“Of course,” he agreed. “I can give you her name, her member number, whatever you need. I spent the night at her place, where, by the way, she didn’t try to wring any money out of me.”
“How nice that you found someone who really appreciates you for you, sir,” Jessie said, unable to keep the sarcasm at bay.
“We’ll need to keep you here while we follow this up,” Dolan said quickly, now in the rare position of playing peacemaker.
“Whatever it takes,” Jerebko said plaintively.
They left him in the conference room with an officer standing guard over him and the three of them—Jessie, Dolan, and Murph—moved to a nearby supply closet, the only place nearby without constant foot traffic, to talk. Murph spoke before either of them could.
“Ms. Hunt, you have a call. Normally, I wouldn’t patch it through. But since it’s coming in through the station switchboard and your captain authorized it, I’m willing to let you take it, as long as you don’t reveal anything about your movements.”
“Okay,” Jessie said, her curiosity trumping her apprehension. “Who is it?”
“A Detective Ryan Hernandez.”
Despite her best efforts, Jessie felt her cheeks flush.
CHAPTER TEN
“Oh. Okay,” she said, trying to sound unruffled. “Where should I take it?”
“Take it here,” Dolan said, clearly noting her suddenly pink face but saying nothing about it. “I’ll check on Jerebko’s alibi. And I’ll follow up on his wife’s phone data too. Find me when you’re done.”
She nodded. Murph spoke into his phone.
“Patch him through,” he said, then handed it to her. “Not too long, okay? Even under secure conditions, this is a risk.”
“Thanks,” she said, taking the phone.
“I’ll be right outside,” he reminded her.
When he closed the door, she held the receiver up to her ear.
“Hello,” she said hesitantly.
“Jessie,” came the familiar voice of Ryan Hernandez, her friend, occasional case partner, and apparently now also the guy whose name made her blush involuntarily. “How are you?”
“I’m getting by,” she said, glad her voice wasn’t as out of control as her skin. “You know, solving cases, evading serial killers, that kind of thing.”
“Just a typical day at the office for you, right?” he asked playfully.
“Sometime it feels like that.”
“Well, I’m really sorry I haven’t been in touch of late. I know I promised to keep you updated on hospitals that your psycho father might have gone to for treatment.”
“That’s okay,” she said, though it wasn’t. “The captain has kept me looped in. Besides, he told me you were helping on a triple homicide in Topanga Canyon so I know you’ve been busy.”
“You think that’s why I’ve been out of touch?” he asked, sounding slightly offended. “That’s not it at all. I wouldn’t let something like a few murders stop me from contacting you.”
“What then?” she asked, surprised at his directness.
“Decker ordered me not to. He said that any kind of communication could put your security at risk. He said that, until Crutchfield and Thurman are caught, he wanted you completely off the grid.”
Jessie couldn’t help but feel relieved. Even though she knew it was ridiculous, some primal part of her had started to wonder whether he’d just forgotten about her. At the same time she was immediately pissed at Captain Decker for doing that and not even telling her. She planned to have a discussion with him on that matter when things settled down.
“Why the call now then?”
“I heard about Ernie Cortez’s murder and the note from Crutchfield,” he said. “I figured you had to be bouncing off the walls. So I said ‘screw it.’ I called Decker and demanded to check on you. I told him that I’d drop the case if he didn’t let me.”
“He must have loved that,” Jessie said because she didn’t trust herself to say much more.
“Yeah, he threatened to fire me and hung up. But then he called back five minutes later and said he’d patch me through to you if I called the main number and asked for Marshal Murphy. Who’s that?”
“He’s part of my security contingent,” she explained. “I don’t think I’m supposed to even say that, actually.”
“Right. Need to know, I get it. So how are you—really?”
&n
bsp; Jessie was fine up until that last word. Really. Suddenly a floodgate of emotion opened and she felt a sob rising in her throat. At the last moment, she covered it with a cough.
“I’ve been better,” she said, her voice on the verge of cracking but managing to hold steady. “It’s hard dealing with all this without much of a support system around. After the escape from NRD, Kat is off finding herself in Europe. I haven’t been able to see my therapist for security reasons. I haven’t been allowed to talk to you. And until today, I’ve been essentially locked up in a safe house. The marshals are good at their job. But they’re not exactly chatty Cathys. And I haven’t been sleeping great, mostly because I’m in constant fear that one of two serial killers is going to find me.”
“That sounds like a super fun time,” Ryan replied with mock enthusiasm before returning to his normal voice. “I’m really sorry, Jessie. That sounds hellish.”
“Thanks,” she said.
There was a long pause that was just starting to get awkward when she broke the silence.
“How are you doing?” she asked, keeping things general though she was particularly curious about the state of his marriage. He had recently mentioned that he and his wife had separated.
“My life has been…topsy-turvy. I’ll tell you more about when we can talk in person. Besides, it feels weird to complain about anything going on with me when you’re under such duress.”
“At least it’s not boring,” Jessie said, letting him off the hook for now.
“Yeah. Hopefully, both these guys will be caught soon and you can resume your normal life of not going out at night, watching boring television, and eating poorly.”
“I would love that,” she said, chuckling.
There was a soft knock on the door. Jessie knew what that meant.
“Hey. I’m being told to wrap it up. But don’t be such a stranger, okay. I don’t want you to lose your job or anything, but it’s nice to hear from you every now and then.”
“I’ll see what I can do, as long as it doesn’t put my pension at risk,” he added jokingly. “You’re not worth that.”
