“I’m Detective Hernandez with the LAPD Homicide Special Section. This is Jessie Hunt. What’s your name?”
“I’m Kaylee, sir.”
“Hi, Kaylee,” he said, smiling warmly. “We need to speak to Aaron Rose about a pressing matter. Please take us to him.”
“Of course,” the receptionist said, trying to stay cool. “Just let me call him and let him know you’re here.”
“No thank you,” Ryan said firmly. “We’d like you to take us to him directly right now; no need to call.”
Kaylee looked torn between her typical instructions and her new ones. But Ryan’s forceful but polite demand won out pretty easily. She nodded and motioned for them to follow as she walked down the hall.
“Remember,” Ryan whispered to Jessie as walked, “we don’t have approval for any of this. So let’s not back him in a corner that makes him lash out and start making calls. If we’re not sure it’s him, we need to tread carefully.”
Jessie nodded in agreement. She’d already been through a variation of this with the Zellers, though she doubted that a corporate lawyer like Rose would be as amenable to helping as they were. If he was resistant to talking, it would be hard to pry details from him without creating some anxiety in the man. The question was how much was too much.
Kaylee arrived at Rose’s office door and knocked.
“Busy,” came a loud, nasally shout from inside.
“Open the door,” Ryan said quietly.
Kaylee nodded and then actually physically closed her eyes as she opened the door. In the far corner of the room, behind a large desk, was a balding man with an aggressive comb-over.
He stood up and Jessie realized he couldn’t have been more than about five foot five. His skin was pale in a way that suggested he didn’t get outside often. He wore a tucked-in dress shirt and tie and it was clear that he was in good shape, with a muscular, wiry frame. As proof of his workout devotion, an elliptical machine stood in the other corner of the room.
“What the hell, Kaylee?” he bellowed. “I said I was busy, goddammit!”
“I’m sorry Mr. Rose but these…”
“That’s okay, Kaylee,” Ryan interrupted. “You can go. We’ve got it from here.”
He stepped inside and shut the door behind Jessie after she entered.
“Who do you think you are?” Rose demanded, his eyes blazing.
“I think that I’m Detective Ryan Hernandez of the Los Angeles Police Department,” he replied calmly. “And I think this is Jessie Hunt, who is one of our top criminal profilers. I suggest you hang up the phone, Mr. Rose. We have a few questions for you.”
The lawyer did hang up but didn’t look much more chastened than before.
“You’ve got five minutes,” he said sharply.
Jessie felt her whole body tighten up and saw Ryan’s forearms flex involuntarily as well. She wanted to crush the guy but reminded herself that going straight to eleven on the pressure meter wouldn’t be the wisest move. Rose was clearly trying to bait them. They couldn’t let him.
“Mr. Rose,” she said, choosing to ignore his comment, “what kind of clients do you represent?”
The man’s expression went from combative to smug.
“Why? Are you looking for representation? I doubt you could afford me on your salary.”
“But you don’t represent individuals much anyway, right?” she said, unfazed. “I thought your clients were mostly big-time corporate accounts. Do I have that wrong?”
“No,” Rose replied, smirking. “I represent some of most notable companies in the L.A. area, a who’s who of the who’s who. Are you alleging impropriety on one of their parts? If so, this is pretty unorthodox, just busting into my office like this. Why don’t you make a proper appointment and I’ll have my girl try to fit you in? My schedule is jam-packed today.”
Jessie half-glanced at Ryan, letting him know that now that Rose wasn’t so on the defensive, she was going to drop the hammer.
“What can you tell us about a woman named Missy Mack?” she asked without preamble.
Rose’s smugness immediately disappeared, if only for a moment.
“Before you answer, sir,” Ryan added, “you should probably ask yourself why we would be here in your office asking you this question. I’ll give you a hint. It’s not just out of curiosity.”
Rose’s eyes narrowed and Jessie could see him strategizing his response.
“Are you asking if I know her? Because of course I know Missy,” he said. “You obviously know that. She’s an actress I’ve gone out with on a few occasions. Is that illegal now?”
“Gone out with?” Ryan repeated.
“Sure. We had a few meals together. Sometimes we’d splurge and get an expensive bottle of champagne. She’s a fun girl.”
“So you’d buy a really expensive bottle of champagne for your dates with Missy?” Ryan asked.
“Actually, because I’m so busy, I’d usually just give Missy the cash to buy it for us.”
“Cash,” Ryan repeated.
“Of course,” Rose replied as if it was obvious. “You think a liquor store would just let some random girl use my credit card to buy champagne worth hundreds of dollars? Cash was much easier.”
“So just to be clear,” Ryan reviewed, sarcasm dripping off him, “you would give Missy hundreds of dollars in cash and she would use it to buy expensive bottles of champagne for the two of you to drink together.”
“That’s exactly right, Detective,” Rose answered with a broad smile on his face.
“And did Missy ever find creative ways to thank you for your generosity?” Ryan pressed.
“Thank me? No. You don’t have to be coy, Detective. If you’re asking if our evenings ever ended in sexual encounters, then the answer is yes. But I assure you, that was simply two people enjoying a few stimulating evenings together.”
“No connection to the cash you gave her?” Ryan asked.
“None whatsoever; never entered my mind.”
“Aren’t you married, Mr. Rose?” Jessie asked, making a hard conversational turn.
“I am.”
“How does your wife feel about your dates with Missy?”
Rose smiled even wider, revealing coffee-stained teeth.
“I’m sure she’d be unhappy if she was to ever find out. Do you plan on telling her, Ms. Hunt? Is adultery now a crime in this state?”
“No. But providing alcohol to a minor is.”
“Oh dear,” Rose said mockingly, reaching to his neck to clutch imaginary pearls. “The horror! If you plan to toss me in lockup for that, be my guest. And before you shut the cell door, I’ll have my firm slap a suit against you for everything under the sun—harassment, false imprisonment, police intimidation.”
Jessie beamed back at him.
“You realize by minimizing this, you’re also tacitly acknowledging that you were having sex with a minor. With that and the alcohol charge, things are really starting to add up here.”
“Ms. Hunt,” Rose said, unruffled, “you are making unwarranted assumptions. I never confirmed that I knew Missy was underage. It’s not like I asked her for ID. I learned about her because she’s an actress working in the adult film industry. I thought you had be an adult to do that. If she’s a minor, that’s news to me.”