“Understood,” Honey told her, “but I have an offer for you.”
“Okay,” Jessie replied nervously, sensing that it might be an unusual one.
“When I spoke with Detective Hernandez earlier, I couldn’t help but admire what a tasty treat he is—all rugged, roguish intensity. And you’re a long-legged, tall drink of sparkling water yourself. I’d be happy to offer you two a reduced rate for a session. Hell, I might even make it free if you wanted to make it fully participatory.”
“Oh, wow,” Jessie said, feeling her cheeks start to burn. “Thanks. That’s very flattering. I think we’re doing pretty well in that area but I’ll get back to you if anything changes.”
“Sure,” Honey replied, handing her a business card but not pushing beyond that. “My door is always open.”
“Good to know,” Jessie said, well aware that her beet red face was costing her any of the professional deference Honey had given her up to that point. “Well, I should probably get back to it.”
“Nice to meet you, Ms. Hunt,” she said as she started to walk away. But then she turned around unexpectedly and her voice suddenly softened and became less playful, “and since I didn’t say this earlier, thank you. The work you’ve done to save people and catch killers—it doesn’t go unnoticed. Don’t think I’m unaware of the justice you got for Michaela Penn. Girls in her business—in my old business—are usually just tossed away. You gave her back a little dignity.”
She turned and walked off without waiting for an answer. It was the most overt nod she’d made to her porn past and she’d chosen to note it when referencing the killing of an underage porn actress whose murder had garnered little interest until Jessie and Ryan took it on. Coincidentally, it was the same case that almost led to Chief Laird firing them. Notably, Honey used the girl’s real name and not her porn one, Missy Mack.
Jessie watched her go, walking straight ahead, not daring to turn around after making herself so vulnerable. As she disappeared around the corner, Jessie took a moment to bask in the knowledge that there were many people she’d never meet who were glad for the work she was doing. It gave her a renewed sense of energy. She needed to do the same thing for Scott Newhouse, wherever the truth led her.
As she stared at the empty space that Honey had previously filled, she was shocked by the sight of a new, unexpected figure. For a moment she thought it was a human mirage. But no, she was real.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Walking toward Jessie with a huge grin on her face was none other than her best friend, Kat Gentry.
“What the—?” she began before Kat interrupted her.
“Are you tailing me?” she demanded jokingly, “because if you are, you’re terrible at it.”
If not for the snarky remark, Jessie might not have believed it was Kat. Her friend still had the well-toned body of a former Army Ranger, which she’d been for a decade, as well as the long vertical scar under her left eye, a result of an IED explosion.
But otherwise she was transformed. Instead of her standard attire—blue jeans with a bland shirt and a brown leather jacket, she was wearing a long, sky-blue dress under an unbuttoned yellow sweater. Her dirty blonde hair, almost always tied back in a workmanlike ponytail, was loose, with the styled tresses licking at her shoulders when she moved. A woman who rarely wore jewelry, she was currently decked out in earrings, a necklace, and a bracelet. She even wore heels, something Jessie had never seen her in. Admittedly, they were only two inches high, but still.
“Who are you and what did you do to Katherine Gentry?” Jessie demanded.
“It’s me,” Kat whispered jokingly as she pulled her in for a hug. “Want me to burp to prove it?”
“That’s okay,” Jessie said, pretending to push her away. “I know we haven’t seen each other in a few weeks, but I’m good without the Gentry belch.”
“What are you doing here?” Kat asked. “Is this where you’ve decided to have the wedding? Because I thought you were looking to keep it small.”
“That is definitely not why I’m here,” Jessie assured her. “Ryan and I are on a case.”
“Oh, is it the Newhouse death that everyone is talking about?” Kat asked. “I didn’t realize that was a murder.”
“We’re not sure that it is,” Jessie said. “We haven’t ruled out suicide. But apparently Chief Laird was tight with the guy so he asked us to check it out.”
“If it is murder, do you have any good suspects?”
“At least five and we’ve only been here a couple of hours,” Jessie said, happy to reveal the truth to one of the few people she knew wouldn’t spill any details. “But enough about me—what are you doing here dressed like you’re pledging this resort? You’re on a case too, aren’t you?”
Kat, who was a private investigator, pretended to be offended.
“How do you know I’m not just here for a weekend getaway?”
“First of all, I don’t see Mitch around,” Jessie noted, referencing Kat’s long-distance Sheriff’s deputy boyfriend. “And secondly, I have eyes. If you were really here to kick back and relax, that’s not how you’d dress. You be in sweats and sneakers, with a baseball cap on. And there’s no way you’d be wearing jewelry and heels. Plus you can’t afford this place. You’re on a job, undercover, I’m guessing.”
“That’s why they pay you the big bucks, Hunt,” Kat sighed, before quietly admitting. “I’m working a case for the resort. There have been a lot of thefts in the last month and management thinks it might be a member of the staff.”
“So why didn’t you have them ‘hire’ you as a new employee?” Jessie wondered.
“See, that’s why you’re the profiler and I’m the private eye,” Kat teased. “If I come in as a staffer, it’d take forever to ingratiate myself and gain trust with the others. Plus, I’d be expected to do real work that would interfere with my ability to investigate. I’d probably have guests demanding stuff from me all the time. This way, my only job is to go where I want and do what I want. It’s a free pass to watch what’s going on. And with all the shiny crap I’m wearing, maybe I’ll catch the thief’s eye. Even if I don’t catch the person red-handed, I’ve tagged all the jewelry, so I can track it.”
“That’s not bad, Kat,” Jessie said admiringly. “I just have one question: where did you get all those baubles? I know you didn’t bring them from home.”
“The resort loaned them to me from their jewelry store. This joint has everything,” she marveled. Suddenly her eyes widened. Clearly she had an idea. “Hey, do you think it’s possible that we’re looking for the same person? If your guy was killed, maybe my thief did it. Could Newhouse have caught the culprit in the act and paid the price for it?”
“That’s interesting,” Jessie mused. “I guess it’s possible that Newhouse discovered the thief, who then had to shut him up. But it might have been hard to do logistically.”