“Mr. Perry, where have you been the past five nights?”
“Can’t remember. Now you wanna tell me what you want before I kick you out?”
“We think you killed four women.”
Jesse’s cold stare turned colder. “You think that, do you?”
“We do, and looking at you, all up in my face for asking a few questions, reinforces my suspicions.”
“I was here. At home. Where I always am.”
“Anyone able to confirm that?”
“No. I’m alone. All the time.”
Paige wandered over to a shelf, making sure to pick up her feet to trudge through the garbage. She idly picked up a few business cards.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Perry, but we’re going to have to talk to you at the precinct. You understand why, correct?”
This was where the struggle started. There was no chance Jesse was coming of his own accord.
“I’m not moving,” Jesse said, scratching his hairy chest.
Paige interjected. “You say you’re grieving for your wife, but these business cards say a different story,” she said.
Jesse jerked his neck around like an owl on the lookout for prey. “What?”
Paige read each card one by one. “Destiny. Rushana. Scarlett Graves. Mistress Noir. Narcissa Lust. These don’t exactly sound like tax attorneys to me, Mr. Perry.”
“So? A guy can’t have fun?”
Ella prayed that it would happen, prayed there’d be a connection waiting in Paige’s hands. She watched her expression change from curiosity to horror.
There it was.
“Krystal. Services include striptease, nuru massage, and humiliation play.”
Paige held the card up to show her partner.
Suddenly, the suspect was on his feet, across the living room, among the mess.
Ella sprung into action, but the mental equivalent of muscle memory stopped her. Among the darkness and shadows, Paige was already ten feet ahead, trampling across rubbish and reaching out for the fleeing suspect. She grabbed him by his shoulders and brought him down onto the hardwood floor with a brutal crack that made even Ella wince.
Ouch.
Ella rushed over for support. She unhooked her handcuffs, wrestled the grounded man’s arms around to his back and locked them in place.
With these restraints, Jesse Perry fell limp and began to cry.
“Did you do it?” Paige shouted. “Come on. Tell us you did it.”
Ella knew that desperation, but here wasn’t the time or place for a confession. A much better place was in a confined interrogation room with a tape recorder playing.
“Not here Ellis. It might be inadmissible in court.”
Together, they pulled Jesse Perry to his feet and walked him out of the door, into their car, ready for a life behind bars. Once they’d securely locked Jesse inside, the two agents collapsed against their vehicle as the evening set in. Paige looked like she’d been through the wars. Sweaty, exhausted, ten years older than she’d looked 24 hours ago.
“Tell me it’s over,” Paige said. “For the love of God, don’t make me fight any more scumbags in any more shitholes.”
“I can’t say for definite, but I’m pretty sure it’s over.”
“Remember when I took Kenny and Bret down, and I told you I’d do it again?” Paige said. “Looks like I just did it again.”
Ella tapped her on the shoulder. “Hey, come on. He’s sloshed out of his mind. Even I could have taken him down,” she laughed.
“Alright, we’ll call it a team effort. But one day, I’ll do it again.”
“I hope so. Come on, let’s get ourselves a confession.”