said before he even sat down.
“Good morning, Jessie,” he replied. “How are you?”
“Good morning,” she said, offering a brief smile acknowledging the niceties of human interaction. “How am I? I’m confused. Michaela Penn is a real contradiction. This is a girl who graduated from a prestigious Catholic girls high school a year early while on an academic scholarship. She was legally emancipated at the age of sixteen. All very impressive, right?”
“Right,” Ryan agreed, clearly giving up on the pleasantries.
“But the reason her emancipation was approved was because her father, who now lives up near Lake Arrowhead, was abusive. She was able to prove to the court that she was better off on her own.”
“What about her mom?”
“Her mother died of ovarian cancer when she was seven.”
“No other relatives?” Ryan asked.
“Not in California.”
“Where did she live then?”
“Until she graduated early, she boarded at the school. Since then, she’s bounced around among three different apartments until she settled on the place where she was found last night. None of the others were anywhere near as nice.”
“So how did she afford the new place?” Ryan wondered.
“That’s a good question. Like Lizzie said, she’s a waitress. She works at Jerry’s on Ventura Boulevard. And according to her manager, she only worked part-time. That’s not going to pay for the place she was living in, much less all the art and electronics we saw.”
“Any clues from her social media?” Ryan asked, finally firing up his computer.
“Not so far,” Jessie admitted. “I’ve looked at her Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, Snapchat, WhatsApp, Tumblr, and Whisper accounts, along with everything else I could find. It’s pretty standard stuff—selfies at the beach, pictures with friends at concerts, funny memes, inspirational quotes, tons of smiles; not a mean comment in her mentions. It’s almost…too normal.”
“What does that mean?”
“It’s hard to explain. I know people’s social media is curated to project the best possible image. But hers is relentlessly normal—nothing controversial, nothing revealing. It’s just so impersonal. After looking at it all, I didn’t get the sense that I knew her any better than before. It felt like a puzzle with several pieces missing.”
“So there’s nothing in there that would explain why someone would stab her multiple times?” Ryan asked drily.
“No,” Jessie said, not playing along. “Nor why a bunch of cops would try to shut down the investigation before it began. By the way, I talked to Burnside earlier, the officer stationed outside the building last night. He basically begged me to drop the case. It sounded like he was genuinely concerned for me.”
“Maybe he thinks Costabile is going to try to beat you up after school.”
Before she could reply, Captain Decker poked his head out of his office and called them in.
“Hernandez, Hunt, I need to have a little chat, please.”
Jessie glanced at Ryan, who had a look of resignation on his face.
“What?” she asked.
“That’s his ‘ream you out’ voice,” he said as he got up. “I can only imagine what the Valley Bureau people told him.”
“Well, I’ve got a little reaming out of my own to do,” Jessie said, her spine stiffening as she led the way to Decker’s office.
“Great,” she heard Ryan mutter quietly behind her. She pretended not to hear him.
They entered the office to find Captain Roy Decker standing behind his desk. He looked a decade older than his sixty years, skinny, mostly bald, and sunken-faced, with more wrinkles than she could count. He was staring at his computer screen with a frown. His beady eyes were intensely focused and his long, sharp nose seemed to point accusatorily in their direction.
“I understand you had a little excitement last night,” he said without looking up.
“We stumbled onto a case with some unusual features,” Ryan volunteered vaguely.
“Well, it seems that your involvement has piqued the interest of some of our friends in Valley Bureau,” he replied, his voice betraying nothing.
Jessie wanted desperately to respond. But from experience, she’d found it best to let Ryan feel things out first. His many years of exemplary service had garnered him some goodwill that Jessie hadn’t earned yet.
“Sir,” Ryan began carefully, “I think their pique might have something to do with how they were caught flat-footed on this. They were violating protocols left and right. Hell, the body was being removed before the assigned detective had even arrived. It wasn’t their finest moment.”
“They neglected to include that in the preliminary report,” Decker acknowledged. “May I ask what you were doing there in the first place? It’s not exactly your jurisdiction.”
“Was in the area after dinner and heard word of a victim who had been stabbed multiple times. I’m like a moth to a flame when it comes to that sort of thing and thought Hunt’s insight could be valuable so I asked her to help out.”
Decker glanced up at him. Jessie could tell he wasn’t fooled by Ryan’s incomplete, pronoun-averse answer. She thought this might be the moment when he pressed them on the nature of their relationship, which they’d been keeping under wraps. But he seemed to think better of it.
“Well, according to the report, it looks pretty open and shut; robbery gone wrong. So I guess we can move on without any unneeded friction between precincts.”
“Actually, Captain,” Jessie said, speaking for the first time, “I’m not sure it’s as simple as that.”
“Of course you’re not,” Decker said, seeming to sink even further into himself. “Go ahead, Hunt. Ruin my day.”
“I don’t mean to do that, sir,” she said, trying to harness all the diplomacy she could muster. “But the scene doesn’t support the theory that this is just a simple robbery gone wrong. Hardly anything was stolen. The SIM card in the phone, which was taken, was completely destroyed. The killer went into the bedroom with the murder weapon, seemingly with intent. The victim was stabbed nine times, hardly the MO of your typical apartment thief. And even after the girl was dead, the place was left largely untouched. I’m not saying definitively that it wasn’t a robbery. But open and shut? I don’t think so.”
She wanted to go on; to say that something about the case stunk to high heaven. But deeming that extra claim to be counterproductive, she left it there.
Decker sat down and closed his eyes. When he opened his mouth, it was twisted into a pained grimace.
“What would you have me do with this information, Ms. Hunt?”
“Captain, I think you should allow us to pursue this case. Detective Hernandez’s role as part of HSS allows him to take over any LAPD case the unit deems
