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“And you heard about that hitwoman who escaped from custody last Friday too?” she asked.
“Yes, something Pierce,” he said hesitantly. “Didn’t she try to kill a relative of yours?”
“That’s right,” Jessie confirmed. “So both of these people are out there, and they each have it in for me. I figured a little extra personal protection wasn’t a bad idea.”
He nodded before a perplexed expression came over him.
“But why not just go into hiding until these people are caught?” he wondered.
“Technically, I’m on leave, but can’t just go into hiding, Officer Peterson. That’s not my style. I feel responsible for what the Clone Killer is doing. And if I can’t catch him, then I intend to help the department in other ways. Even though this Britton murder isn’t an HSS case, the victim was friends with someone I care about, so I’m doing this on my own time.”
While there was no question that she was trying to manipulate the man, everything Jessie had said so far was true. And Peterson seemed to be inspired by her words, sitting up straighter as he listened to her. But when she finished, he seemed to shrink back a little.
“I admire your dedication,” he said, “but unfortunately, if you’re not assigned to this case, I can’t check out the evidence box to you.”
Jessie nodded gravely.
“I understand,” she told him. “You’re just doing your job. But so am I. Maybe we can find a compromise. What if I just informally reviewed the case materials here, without checking them out. If I notice anything valuable, I’ll make the detectives aware of it. If I don’t, then I’ll go back to twiddling my thumbs over at Central Station. What do you say, Officer Peterson—will you let me be useful to the cause? I’m looking for a knight in shining armor here.”
Peterson sighed.
“Tha sort of thing is frowned upon,” he said unconvincingly.
Jessie silently noted that it was more than that. Allowing someone to “informally” review the evidence would break the chain of custody and be grounds for dismissal. But Peterson wasn't going there yet, so neither was she.
“But areyoufrowning?” Jessie asked coyly, really pushing the bounds of propriety.
Peterson glanced around behind him even though there was no one else there. Then he smiled.
“I’ll let you back to look over the materials, but just to look. You can’t check anything out,” he warned. “I don’t want the detectives questioning me because they saw your name in the logbook. And your bodyguard will have to wait out there. He’s not authorized to come back under any circumstances.”
She didn’t mention that this was exactly what she wanted—to gain access to the case materials without leaving any sign, other than Officer Peterson’s memory, that she’d been here.
“Thank you,” she said, smiling shyly. “I really appreciate this, Officer Peterson. If we’re lucky, you and I might make a big difference today.”
“I’ll buzz you in,” he said, his cheeks turning slightly pink.
While she waited, Jessie turned to Grover and whispered, “let me know if anyone shows up, especially Detectives Wagner or Ortega. I don’t want a run-in with those guys. Stepping on their toes isn’t a good move unless I have something worthwhile to justify it.”
Before Grover could reply, the door buzzed and unlocked. All he could was offer a thumbs up before Peterson appeared to invite her in. She followed him back through the cavernous Wilshire Station evidence room, passing multiple aisles of tall shelves filled with boxes, until Peterson turned sharply down one aisle and led her halfway to the end. They stopped suddenly in front of a single bankers box marked with the case name and number. Peterson grabbed it and held it out to her.
“Just one box?” she confirmed, surprised, considering the notoriety of the victim and the apparent viciousness of the crime.
“I guess so,” he said with a shrug.
She opened the box and saw a thumb drive in a plastic baggie. It was resting on top of several manila folders next to another larger baggie that held the quartz crystal bowl that had apparently served as the murder weapon. She looked back up at Peterson, not wanting to linger on the blood, hair, skin, and other matter that she’d briefly noted had crusted onto the bowl.
“Is there a computer somewhere if I want to access the data on the thumb drive?” she asked.
“There are stations at the back of the room,” he said, pointing down the long row between the imposing shelves. “You can use the guest access code. It’s 104211.”
“Okay, thanks,” she said.
She started in that direction when Peterson gently put his hand on her shoulder.
“Please be careful, Ms. Hunt,” he pleaded. “This is highly irregular, and I wouldn’t do this for anyone but you. I respect what you’ve done for this city at the expense of your own well-being, but if anything happens to that evidence, your fame won’t prevent me from getting fired.”
“I promise I won’t mess anything up,” she assured him. “I want this killer caught and I would never do anything to put that at risk.”
