Everything sounded so amicable. But Jessie had long ago learned that things were rarely as rosy as they were presented in the press, especially by lawyers as media savvy as the Estradas. She decided that a visit to Mr. Estrada was in order. And she didnt want to wait until tomorrow. Showing up unexpectedly at his doorstep on a Sunday afternoon was more likely to generate an honest reaction than some massaged interview down at the station with his own lawyer in tow.

As soon as Hannah got back, she would call on Estrada to see if there were any unexpected thorns on those roses.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Jessie had a moment of doubt just before ringing Beto Estradas doorbell.

After hearing Karens tense phone exchange earlier about soccer parenting, she thought the woman might have other stuff on her mind and decided to do this interview solo. Normally, going to a potential suspects home without a partner or backup would make her nervous. But in this case, she hoped that making the encounter casual might bear more fruit than something formal.

She wasnt going to trick an experienced attorney like Estrada into revealing information that put him in legal jeopardy. But maybe coming to his home by herself, not as a cop but a profiling consultant, would set him at ease enough to get him to lower his guard a bit.

And though she felt a little dirty about it, she suspected that interviewing him while he was potentially in the throes of grief after just losing his wife of seven years, even if they were no longer together, might work to her advantage. Besides, if he tried anything stupid, she had her gun and the self-defense training shed received while attending the FBI Academys ten-week program for local law enforcement.

Beto Estrada, who had moved out of the couples house after the divorce, lived in a quaint rental cottage in the Miracle Mile section of Los Angeles, just a few blocks from Museum Row and the La Brea Tar Pits. The place wasnt much bigger than the guest house theyd found Cord Mahoney in this morning, but it was far more respectable, with a stone paver walkway, a Spanish-style, A-frame roof, and a lemon tree just off the porch.

She pushed any self-doubt out of her head as she rang the bell. Estrada opened the door within ten seconds. Just as in his pictures, he was a vaguely handsome man in his late forties, about a half-decade older than Millicent. He was tall and thin, with black hair and a conservative haircut that reminded Jessie of uniformed British schoolboys.