CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

Jessie's head was swimming as she jogged out of Twin Towers to the street where Ryan was waiting for her. As she reached the sidewalk, she realized that this was nearly the exact spot where Hank Costabile had tried to kill her just over three weeks ago. She was trying to wrap her head around that when a horn honked, making her jump slightly.

She looked in the direction of the sound and saw Ryan waiting in the car across the street. He was waving at her frantically. She hurried across the street, dodging cars that honked at her angrily. When she arrived, he looked beyond agitated.

"What?" she asked apprehensively.

"You forgot to turn your phone back on when you got out of there," he said. "I've been texting and calling for the last five minutes. I was about to come up there."

"Why?" she asked.

"I just got a call from Parker. There's been another murder."

***

Jessie couldn't believe the chaos.

When they arrived at Fiona Greene's Beverly Hills mansion, there were so many police vehicles that they had to dart and weave just to get to the main gate.

They had already gotten the basic background on the situation from Jamil and Beth on the way over. Apparently, Greene, 35, was married to the CEO of a huge global investment bank. Prior to that, she ran a successful Rodeo Drive purse boutique. All they knew about her death so far was that she'd been killed in her garage, stabbed multiple times with a hunting knife.

As they stopped at the gate, Ryan flashed his badge to the officer standing in the middle of the driveway. He stepped to the side and waved them through. As Ryan drove slowly up the long, winding private road leading to the house, Jessie had a thought.

"Whoever did this likely had inside knowledge about the house," she suggested .

"Why do you say that?" Ryan asked as he rounded a grove of trees. The mansion, a plantation-style monstrosity, loomed in the distance.

"The front gate and outer walls of the property are easily a dozen feet high with electrified netting and metal spikes at the top," she said. "It would be pretty hard to scale. To get in, they'd likely need the code to the gate entry keypad."

"You don't think they could have just snuck in when someone entered or left through the gate?"

"I suppose it's possible," Jessie conceded, "but there's no place to hide anywhere near the entrance. It's exposed for fifty feet in either direction. I would think that someone dressed in all black with a ski mask on would be noticed."

"Maybe they dressed normally and changed once they got on the property," he countered.

"Unlikely," Jessie said. "There were multiple security cameras on those walls. They wouldn't have wanted to be identified."

"They could have worn a disguise," he offered.

"Maybe," Jessie conceded as they pulled up into the circular drive in front of the main doors.

A uniformed officer immediately approached them. From his graying hair, weary face, and confident manner, she suspected he was in charge.

"Hi," he said as they got out of the car. "I recognized you both as you were arriving. I'm Sergeant Jack Cole, Beverly Hills Police Department. I've been maintaining the scene until you could get here."

"Good to meet you, Sergeant," Ryan said. "So I gather that there are no jurisdictional issues?"

"No," Cole answered. "When BHPD learned that this incident fit the profile of the other murders that HSS has been investigating, the higher-ups decided to hand it off. We don't need a turf war with a serial killer on the loose."

"We appreciate that," Jessie said. "Are you able to take us to the crime scene?"

"Absolutely, follow me," Cole said, motioning for them to join him. "I'm sorry but we don't have lot for you to work with yet. We're still gathering information."

"What can you tell us?" Ryan asked.

"Okay, so it's 4:47 right now," Cole said, looking at his watch. "The body was discovered just after 4 p.m. by the senior housemaid. We had people on the scene within five minutes and I got here soon after, at about 4:15. We pegged it as possibly connected to your case almost immediately and reached out."

"That's quick work," Ryan noted as they approached the massive garage. Jessie silently noted that it looked like it could hold up to six vehicles. Right now, there were five parked inside.

"Thanks," Cole said. "Since our arrival, we were able to get a preliminary time of death. Staff members said that Mrs. Greene left the kitchen around 3:40, saying that she was headed to the back pool house for a cocktail. Apparently, she was upset over some housekeeping faux pas and needed to decompress. The senior maid, Griselda Quintana, decided to check on her to make sure she didn't need anything, even though Greene had said she didn't want to be disturbed. Ms. Quintana claims that was rarely actually the case and that Greene would get upset if she wasn't attended to back there, no matter what she'd said earlier."

"When did she go to check on her?" Jessie asked.

"Around 3:55," Cole said. "She said that fifteen minutes was about all the decompression time that Mrs. Greene could handle solo before needing something."

"And that's when she noticed something was off?" Jessie asked, not commenting on how challenging a personality Fiona Greene already sounded like.

"That's right," Cole explained. "She went to the pool house, but it was empty. She was returning to the main house when she saw that the side door to the unattached garage was open. She went to check on that. That's when she found Greene in the condition you'll see her in now."

They had stopped just outside the open, retractable garage doors.

"Where's her husband right now?" Ryan asked.

"He drove up to Santa Barbara last night for a shareholders luncheon," Cole said. "Our chief of police called to inform him of the situation about twenty minutes ago. He was already on his way back and should be here in the next hour or so, depending on traffic."

"Did your chief get a sense of his reaction to the news?" Ryan asked.

"He said the guy sounded devastated and had to pull over because he was so upset."

"Sounds like he has a credible alibi," Ryan noted, "assuming this wasn't a murder for hire."

Jessie hadn't yet had a chance to share what Haddonfield had told her back at Twin Towers. But based on their conversation about the up- close-and-personal feel of these killings, she was disinclined to think this was the work of a hired gun.

"Before we go into the garage," she said, "I noticed security cameras out by the main gate. Has anyone looked at them yet?"

"We have someone going through them now," Cole replied. "I hope to have something for you very soon. Unfortunately there are no cameras near the garage, as you can see."

"Thanks," Ryan said. "Mind if we check out the scene now?"

"I'll stay out of your way," Cole said. "The body is off to the left, at the base of the car keys cabinet."

They nodded and headed in the direction he'd pointed them toward. Jessie immediately noticed what looked like faded, bloody footprints on the cement of the driveway. As they got closer to the garage entrance, the footsteps became more red and pronounced. All they had to do to find Fiona Greene was follow them. The members of the crime scene unit had already stepped off to the side to make room for them.

Greene was slumped down, her back against the side wall of the garage, a giant pool of blood surrounding her. Her blue eyes were glassy. Her fiery red hair was matted with her own blood. Jessie counted at least seven separate knife wounds to her neck and chest and one puncture of her left palm, which looked like a defensive wound.

However challenging Fiona Greene was, she didn't deserve this. No one did. Jessie noted that clutched tight in her right hand was a car key.

"It looks like it's to the Bentley three spots over," Ryan said reading her thoughts. "I guess she changed her mind about the pool house and decided to go for a drive."

"So," Jessie said, taking a few steps back and looking away from the body, "sometime between approximately 3:40 and four, she came to the garage, where she was killed."

"It looks like it was closer to 3:40," Cole announced from the main garage entrance.

"How do you know that?" Ryan asked.

"We just got access to the security footage from the front gate," he explained. "I'll have it sent to you, but it shows someone dressed all in black and wearing a ski mask approach the gate at 3:20. They used the access code to enter the property. They're seen leaving again at 3:47. So based on what Ms. Quintana told us, I'm guessing Fiona Greene died sometime between 3:40 and 3:45."

"No one checking the cameras at the time noticed someone dressed like that sneaking onto the property?" Ryan asked in disbelief .

"Apparently the security team is comprised of two people who walk the property regularly, inside and out," Cole told him, "but there's no control room where someone is constantly watching security footage. The cameras seem to have been intended more as a deterrent."

"They didn't do a very good job," Ryan muttered.

"The killer knew the code," Jessie noted, moving on to the fact that intrigued her more than the cameras, "that means they likely had regular access to the house and that it was someone Greene trusted."

"Were you able to track where they came from before arriving at the gate or after they left?" Ryan asked.

"Unfortunately, no," Cole said. "We could only tell that they came and left from the direction of the parkette, which is across the street and just down the block. But there are no cameras set up there, and there are no homes close enough to provide alternate views."

"It's almost like the killer knew exactly how to evade detection," Jessie grumbled sarcastically.

"And I'm afraid there's more bad news," Cole added reluctantly. "I know that parkette well. The back side of it leads to a series of dirt trails, some of which end on adjoining streets. So the killer could have parked just about anywhere on one of the surrounding blocks, changed out of the black get-up and into normal clothes, exited the trail, and driven away without being noticed."

"Are we sure they drove anywhere?" Ryan wondered. "Let's not dismiss the employees. It sounds like Fiona Greene wasn't the greatest boss of all time. Is it possible that someone exited the property from some other spot, changed into the black outfit, and then came around front to make it look like it was an outsider."

"There is a back entrance for the staff, just off the rear alley that runs behind all the houses on this street," Cole noted. "I suppose that with enough planning ahead of time, someone on staff could have found a way to make that work."

"Then we need to interview everyone on the staff," Ryan said. "Are your people able to help out with that?"

"We're at your disposal, Detective," Cole said.

"How many people work here?" Jessie asked.

"Today, there are fifteen staff people on the property," Cole said.

Jessie's heart sank. That was a lot of interviews, especially when they couldn't be sure the killer was one of them.

"We better get started," she said.