Hunter considered it. ‘If you’re a PI, who hired you?’
‘You know I can’t tell you that. It’s privileged information.’
Hunter’s gaze moved to his gun and then back to Myers. ‘Under the circumstances, I don’t think you’ve got much of a choice.’
‘You and I both know you’re not gonna shoot me.’
Hunter chuckled. ‘I wouldn’t be so confident if I were you. All I need is a reason.’
Myers didn’t reply.
‘Plus I can arrest you for breaking and entering. You know how it goes. You’ll have to drag a lawyer down to the station, then you’ll be properly interrogated . . . yada, yada, yada . . . and we’ll find out anyway. So you’d better tell me something, or this is about to become a very long night for you.’ Hunter could feel thin lines of blood running down the right side of his face from the cut just above his eyebrow. He stood perfectly still.
Myers fixed Hunter down with a solid stare. She could see the resolve in his eyes. He wasn’t about to let her go easy. But Myers also wasn’t about to tell Hunter the truth about Katia and Leonid Kudrov. She wasn’t prepared to tell him her secrets, or that – out of habit and as a way of keeping her updated with who her potential clients could be – Myers was sent a daily list of names, including photographs, of new additions to the Missing Persons Unit database. The list was compiled and filtered by her LAPD informer, Carl O’Connor.
O’Connor wasn’t a detective with the MPU. Pure and simple, he was a computer geek, an old friend, and the database administrator for the Valley Bureau of the LAPD. His unlimited access to essential information where missing persons were concerned had given Myers the advantage she needed in many cases. When she received Kelly Jensen’s photograph, Myers immediately saw the resemblance to Katia Kudrov, and that was why she was at Kelly Jensen’s apartment in that specific moment. She was looking for clues.
There was no way she was telling Hunter all that. But Myers knew she had to tell him something. She improvised as fast as she could.
‘OK. The person I’m working for is an ex-boyfriend,’ she lied with the steadiest of faces.
Hunter frowned. ‘Name?’
Myers smiled. ‘You know I can’t give you his name. Not without his consent or a court order. You have neither.’
‘And he went to you instead of the Missing Persons Unit?’
‘What can I say? Some people just don’t trust the LAPD.’
Myers relaxed her right arm.
‘Hey, hey, hey,’ Hunter called with a lilt in his voice. ‘Easy there, pumpkin. What are you doing?’
She brought her hand to the side of her body, rubbing it while taking a deep breath. ‘I think you’ve broken a couple of my ribs.’
Hunter didn’t move. ‘No I haven’t. And at least you’re not bleeding.’
Myers glanced at the cut above Hunter’s eyebrow. ‘I’ve never seen anyone move that fast. I had you right in my sights. You were supposed to be knocked out cold.’
‘Lucky for me I got out of the way, then,’ Hunter said, gently stretching his neck. ‘How did you get in here? There were no signs of forced entry.’
Myers gave Hunter a charming smile. This was getting complicated. She stood her ground.
‘I’m doing all the talking here, and you still haven’t told me your name or shown me any police ID yet. Hell, I’m not even sure for a fact that you are LAPD. I know you’re not MPU. So who are you?’
‘How do you know I’m not with the Missing Persons Unit?’
Her face went dead serious. ‘’Cause I used to be part of them.’
Fifty-Five
Hunter kept his gaze on Myers for several seconds. She held his stare with identical determination.
‘OK,’ Hunter finally said, ‘let’s see that PI license you were talking about. But very slowly.’
‘Let’s see that police badge you were talking about,’ Myers challenged.
Hunter pulled open the left side of his leather jacket. His badge was clipped onto his belt.
Myers acknowledged it with a nod, unzipped her pouch belt and handed Hunter a black leather wallet.
He scrutinized her identity card before returning his attention to Myers. Dark eyes, small nose, high cheekbones, full lips, perfect skin, and an athlete’s body.
Hunter finally holstered his weapon before picking up his flashlight together with Myers’ gun – a Sig Sauer P226 X-5 semi-auto pistol.
‘Being a PI must pay well,’ he said, releasing the magazine and checking for a chambered round before handing the empty pistol back to Myers. ‘This is a two and a half grand gun.’ He slipped the magazine into his pocket.
‘Why? Are you looking for a new job? I could certainly use a guy like you. Good benefits and health insurance.’
Hunter took a paper tissue from a dispenser on the dresser and cleared some of the blood from his face. ‘Yeah? Well, I couldn’t use a boss like you.’
Myers smiled. ‘Oh, you’re quick with the comebacks too? I guess the chicks dig that.’
Hunter ignored her comment.
‘Are you gonna tell me who you are now, or shall I just call you Mr. Detective?’ she asked, folding her arms.
‘My name is Robert Hunter.’ He handed her wallet back to her. ‘I’m a detective with the LAPD.’
‘Which section?’ She nodded at his badge. ‘As I said, I know you’re not Missing Persons.’
Hunter placed the flashlight on the dresser. ‘Homicide Special.’
Myers eyes widened. She knew exactly what that meant. For a beat she seemed lost for words. ‘When?’ she asked.
‘When what?’
‘Don’t play dumb. You don’t look the type, and I’m through fucking around. Do you know when Jensen died?’
Hunter studied Myers’ face and saw a hint of desperation there. He mechanically checked his watch before conceding. ‘Yesterday.’
‘Was her body found yesterday or did she die yesterday?’
‘Both. She’d been dead for only a few hours when we found her.’
‘Whoever took her kept her for almost three weeks before killing her?’
Hunter didn’t reply. He didn’t need to. Myers knew exactly the implications of such an act by a kidnapper/ murderer.
‘How was she murdered?’ she asked.
Silence.
‘Oh c’mon, I’m not asking for any major investigation secrets. I know the protocol and I know what you can and cannot disclose. If not from you, how long do you think it’ll take me to find that information out? A couple of phone calls, maybe. I’ve still got contacts and connections in the force.’
Hunter still said nothing.
‘Fine. I’ll find out my way then.’
‘The killer used a knife.’
Myers ran the tips of her fingers against her upper lip.
‘How many victims?’
Hunter looked back at her curiously.
She continued. ‘How many victims have you got so far? If you’re Homicide Special it means this guy has either killed before or Kelly Jensen was killed in a particularly horrific way . . . or both. And if I had to take a guess I’d say both.’
Hunter remained silent.
‘You’re looking for a serial killer, aren’t you?’
‘For someone who used to be a cop, you sure jump to conclusions very quickly.’
Myers’ eyes moved away from Hunter.
‘OK, it’s your turn to share,’ he said. ‘Who’s this ex-boyfriend you’re working for?’
Myers didn’t want to embroil herself further in her lie. ‘You want information from me now?’ Her eyebrows arched.