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Britton looked at Ortega, then at Jessie and Grover, before finally turning his attention to Wagner, who was vibrating with barely contained fury. Jessie could sense that the detective wouldn’t last much longer. She tried to think of a way to de-escalate the situation, but before she could say anything, Britton spoke.
“I don’t get it,” he said slowly, with an arrogant undertone. “I gave you my alibi. You cleared me. I’m not sure why you’re back here.”
"Listen to me, you sick bastard," Wagner growled, leaning in close. "Stop playing the innocent rube. We know you're full of it. Your ex-wife was murdered. And now we find out your therapist was too. That's quite a coincidence. So start spilling, or we are going to have abigproblem.”
Jessie’s whole body slumped. Not only had Wagner violated the deal they’d made to let her lead the interview, but he’d also revealed crucial information that she wanted to hold back until the right moment. Now she wouldn’t be able to determine if Britton’s reaction was a result of surprise at Isabel’s Shea’s death or fear at being accused and threatened by an LAPD detective. He took a small step backward, his jaw slack for a moment before it clenched.
“I don’t know what the hell all this is,” he said angrily, “but I can tell you right now, I want my lawyer. Other than that, I’m not saying a goddamned word!”
“All right then,” Wagner said, turning him around and shoving him up against the door, “then let me say a few words. You’re under arrest!”
Jessie stepped back from the porch and put her hand on one of the pillars for support. Grover looked at her with concern. She shook her head to let him know not to worry. She wasn’t in danger of passing out again. She was just too depressed to hold herself up without help.
This couldn’t possibly have gone worse.
CHAPTER THIRTY TWO
Jessie wasn't surprised, but she was pissed off.
Cameron Britton wasn’t talking, and it was all Detective Wagner’s fault. The guy had not only breached their agreement to let her begin the questioning, but he’d also given away crucial information, specifically that Isabel Shea was dead. Jessie had wanted to hold that detail in reserve to watch how Britton reacted to the news. But that opportunity was now long gone.
Jessie stared at Britton through the one-way glass that separated him from the Wilshire Station observation room, where she sat silently with Grover by her side. Britton was sitting in an interrogation room with his arms folded and a cocky smile on his face. He’d been that way since they’d brought him in a half hour ago, She tried to set aside her frustration with the loose cannon detective and focus on what she could get accomplished.
There was obviously no love lost between Wagner and Britton, but she wasn't a party to their animosity. If there was some way to connect with the suspect, maybe she could get him to talk before his lawyer arrived. It was more than a little sketchy to question him after he'd been Mirandized, but she wasn't a cop, and technically, she was on leave, so it wouldn't be an official violation. But it was all moot if she couldn't find an entry point to a conversation with him. Her phone rang, startling her out of her thoughts. It was Jamil.
“What’s up?” she asked.
“We’ve been going through Britton’s financials since the court order got approved,” he said, “and we found something potentially interesting.”
“I’m all ears,” Jessie replied, sitting up straighter in her chair.
"For about nine months, Cameron Britton made regular monthly payments to a bank account connected to an LLC called Burnham & Associates. We're still trying to sift through the paperwork to find an actual person affiliated with the account, but it's a challenge."
“How much were the payments?” Jessie wanted to know.
“The first one was $10,000 and the subsequent eight were $5,000 each for a total of $50,000.”
“That sounds like a decent amount if someone was paying for a hit on his wife,” Grover noted under his breath.
Jessie couldn’t disagree.
“When did the payments end?” she asked.
“Six months ago,” Beth volunteered.
“That could work,” Grover suggested. “make the payments far enough away from the time of the hit so it’s not obvious. Any final payment would probably come later, probably not in the form of a checking account, I’m guessing.”
"It's a reasonable theory," Jessie agreed. "More importantly, it offers me an entry point to talk to Cameron Britton. If nothing else, I can see how he reacts, even if he won't talk back. Jamil and Beth, let me know if you get a full name for someone attached to that LLC. I'm going in now."
She hung up, left the observation room, and walked over to interrogation. Detectives Wagner and Ortega were standing outside the room, leaning against the door.
“Move,” she said sharply.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Wagner demanded.
"I'm going to have a chat with Cameron Britton without you," she told him.
“I don’t think so,” he said. “He’s already lawyered up.”
