His brown hair was uncombed and stuck up in places and he wore thin wire-rimmed glasses that highlighted his bright blue eyes. He gave them his patented lopsided grin as he loped over. He looked a bit like a slightly uncertain baby fawn wearing loose sweatpants. His bare feet made a slapping noise on the tiled floor.

As he came over, Jessie found herself almost unwittingly being charmed by his foppish, self-deprecating manner. She reminded herself that this guy made his living playing into that impression and not to be dazzled by it. After all, this could be the person who jammed multiple keys into Claire Stanton’s throat less than thirty-six hours ago.

As he got closer, she could see that behind his winning smile and unconventional good looks, those blue eyes were full of apprehension. He knew this wasn’t going to be a schmoozefest. She locked on to his concern, hoping to use it to her benefit.

“Guys,” Matilda said by way of introduction, “this is Jett Collison. Jett, this is…oh jeez, I just realized I don’t any of your names other than Hunt there.”

“Jack Dolan,” the FBI agent said as he shook Collison’s hand, not identifying his agency.

“Murphy,” Murph volunteered from several feet away, making no effort to shake hands.

“Nice to meet you all,” Collison said, his voice soft and hesitant. “Sorry I’m so sloppy this morning. I’m not an early riser.”

“Not a problem,” Jessie said, smiling broadly in the hope that she could lull Collison into viewing her as more fan girl than interrogator. Maybe he’d be more forthcoming if he didn’t view her as a serious threat. “Where should we talk?”

“Is the couch cool?” he asked uncertainly.

“Sure,” she replied. “Lead the way, Mr. Collison.”

“Okay. But only if you call me Jett,” he said, as Jessie anticipated he would.

“Okay, Jett,” she said, offering her biggest grin.

When they were all seated on various couches, Jett leaned back.

“So what’s this all about?” he asked, trying to sound casual but failing.

“Well,” she began, “we assume Matilda told you this was related to LOL, right?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, looking like he was waiting for the hammer to drop.

“What can you tell us about your involvement in that organization?” she asked sweetly.

“Um, well, it’s like a dating service, kind of. It helps guys meet up with girls to, you know, like, date and stuff.”

Jessie wondered if his halting answers were due to nervousness or if he was just like this. If it was the latter, the writers of his movies deserved enormous credit.

“And you used this service?” she pressed.

“Yeah, I mean, sometimes. I met some cool girls through it. It’s hard to meet girls in my regular life. So this is a little more… simple.”

“You’re not dating anyone seriously?” she asked.

“Well, that’s a little complicated. Are we off the record here?”

“We’re not reporters, Jett,” Dolan said, adopting a dad tone. “We’re law enforcement. Nothing is off the record.”