Best Laid Plans(41)

“I don’t know,” Everett said.

“Lying to a federal agent is a felony,” Lucy said. She pulled out additional surveillance photos. “This is you registering at the hotel at four thirty-six Friday night.” She slapped down another surveillance photo. “This is you having dinner alone in the hotel bar at seven-ten.” Another photo. “This is you entering your room at nine-seventeen Friday night. You didn’t leave. You purchased two adult videos from the hotel’s streaming service.” She pulled out the photo of Jane Doe. “This girl entered at twelve thirty that night and left at four forty-seven in the morning. You left at seven forty-five Saturday morning after checking out via the hotel’s automated service. Are you still saying that you didn’t know that this girl was in your hotel room at the same time you were?”

“I mean—of course I-I-I knew she was there,” James fumbled. “B-but sex between two consenting adults isn’t a crime.”

Lucy had to bite her tongue to avoid mentioning that paying for sex was still a crime. She couldn’t prove that Jane Doe was underage, or that money had been exchanged. “Then what is her name?”

“Why do you need to know?” Shaw asked. “My client is a married man, and he doesn’t want any publicity about an extramarital affair.”

“Then he shouldn’t have one,” Lucy snapped. She immediately regretted it. It was completely unprofessional.

Barry picked up the questioning immediately. “We need the information because this woman is a witness in a major criminal investigation, and if Mr. Everett does not give us her name, I will arrest him for obstruction of justice until he agrees to give us her name and contact information. And that will go on the public record.”

“Elise,” Everett said. “Her name is Elise.”

“Elise what?” Barry asked.

“I don’t know.”

“How did you meet her?”

“A mutual friend.”

“A mutual friend sent her up to your hotel room?”

Everett wiped sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. “It doesn’t work that way.”

“How does it work?”

“It’s complicated.”

Lucy leaned forward. She was familiar with how a variety of prostitution rings were run. “Let me guess,” she said, trying to speak as calmly as Barry did. “You call a number. You tell them what you want, deliver a hotel key and money to a specified location, then wait at the hotel for the girl to show. Am I warm?”

He nodded.

“Give us the number.”

He pulled a piece of paper from his desk note pad and quickly wrote it down. His hand was shaking when he handed it to Lucy.

“That’s it?” he said.

“For now,” Barry said.

“One more question,” Lucy said. “Had you ever met with Elise before Friday night?”

“No. I, um, my regular girlfriend is Bella.”

“Did you ask for someone different?”

He shook his head. “Bella was sick. I don’t want to get her in trouble. You’re not going to get her in trouble, are you?”

His concern for his hooker was odd, but it was clear he was equally as concerned about his own hide.

“No,” she said, and meant it.

On her way out, she saw a picture of Everett with his wife, a young boy, and a younger girl. Picture perfect. She picked it up, then looked at Everett. “You have a beautiful family. Why would you jeopardize your relationship with them?”

“You wouldn’t understand.” He refused to look at her.

“How can you have sex with teenagers when your daughter is about to become one?”

“You’re sick,” he said, fuming.

“I’m not the one who’s sick.”

Lucy put the picture down and walked out.

*



Barry immediately called Zach and asked him to research the phone number.

“You should also call Tia,” Lucy said. “She may have a database, or the names Elise and Bella might mean something to her. I suspect Bella has the same basic appearance as Elise. These men rarely deviate from their preferred type.”

“Go ahead and call her,” Barry said. “It was a good question. Except for that little judgmental slip, you did well.”

“I shouldn’t have let his attitude bother me.”

“And when I say judgmental, I’m not saying I condone his behavior.”

“I know. It’s the get-more-flies-with-honey argument.”

“Honey wouldn’t have worked on him.”

Lucy almost smiled, then he said, “You shouldn’t have mentioned his family. That was over the top.”

“Men like him will justify anything. Sometimes they need to be called out on it. He likes young girls. He’ll want them younger.” Barry was going to argue, but Lucy said, “Unfortunately, I know a lot about sexual perverts. He’s borderline violent. He controls it now, but soon it won’t be enough to spank the girls, he’ll hurt them. He’ll find out that hurting them turns him on, and he won’t be able to stop. He’s sick, he needs help, but society doesn’t have a redress for perverts like him. Not until he kills one of the prostitutes or goes after his own daughter.”