Dolan did as he was asked. After a moment, the voice continued.

“To what is this pertaining?”

“A matter that can only be discussed with the councilman. Please open the gate now.”

There was another pause, followed by a bell. The gate began to slowly grind open.

“Please proceed to the main entrance at the top of the driveway,” the voice said. “You will be met at the door.”

They did just that, traversing the steep cobblestone path to the imposing front door. On the way up, Jessie leaned over to Murph.

“You know, now that I’m back in the field, I think it might be advisable to return my service weapon. I feel a bit naked without it.”

Murph looked briefly conflicted before replying.

“It’s back at the safe house. I’ll have it taken to the station. Do you think you can question this middle-aged couple without it? Or should I call for more backup?”

Jessie considered a quippy comeback but still hadn’t come up with one when the front door opened. Jessie was mildly surprised not to see an elderly man in a butler’s suit. Instead it was a twenty-something guy in slacks and a button-down shirt.

“Hello, I’m Elias, the Jerebko family’s house manager. Are you all with the FBI?” he asked, trying to hide his obvious apprehension.

“They’re US Marshals. She’s LAPD,” Dolan said. “It’s a multi-jurisdictional unit.”

“I’ll need to see everyone’s identification,” Elias insisted.

Murph and Toomey pulled theirs out and shoved them in Elias’s face. Jessie was just about to show hers too when Murph grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand down.

“Enough of this,” he said impatiently. “This is a time-sensitive matter. We can give you our birth certificates later if you like. But we need to speak to the councilman now.”

“But she…” Elias started, nodding at Jessie.

“And don’t go anywhere,” Dolan added, interrupting him. “We may have questions for you later.”

Elias backed down and motioned for them to follow him. As he led them through the massive foyer and an ornate hallway, Jessie glanced first at Murph and then at Dolan. It didn’t escape her attention that the two of them had worked in concert to ensure that Elias never actually saw her ID, and therefore her name. Clearly everyone was serious about keeping her whereabouts as secret as possible.

It took a good minute to reach what Elias referred to as “the back den,” where the Jerebkos were waiting for them. They both stood up when the group entered. Beyond his age, somewhere in the mid-forties—Milton Jerebko was nothing like Jessie had predicted he would be. He wasn’t exactly good-looking. But he made the most of what he had.

Tall and muscular, he had a tanned face and his slightly thinning dark hair was groomed to perfection. His suit jacket rested casually on the arm of the couch beside him and he wore navy slacks and a bold pink dress shirt with his sky-blue tie slightly loosened. He had a broad smile and exuded confidence as he extended his hand to Jessie first and then the others as he introduced himself.