“Stand up,” she ordered.

“What the …?” he started, a confused look on his face.

“Stand up now or I will stand you up,” she instructed through gritted teeth.

“I’d do what she suggests,” Dolan said, slightly amused.

Murph, on the other hand, didn’t look amused at all. Though he didn’t step forward or say anything, his right hand was hovering over his sidearm and his body was taut, ready to spring into action.

Collison stood up. Jessie grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back, pulling out her handcuffs and snapping them onto his wrists in one fluid motion.

“What is going on?” Collison demanded. “What did I do?”

Matilda stepped forward.

“She found some room behind your closet and now she’s freaking out about it.”

“Yeah, Jett,” Jessie agreed. “I’m freaking out. Can you guess why?”

Collison’s face turned bright red.

“I can explain,” he stammered. “It’s not what it seems. I mean, it is. But not in a creepy way.”

“You have Claire Stanton’s hair in a plastic bin, dude,” Jessie reminded him. “It doesn’t get creepier than that.”

She shoved him down the hall ahead of her before turning back and calling out to Dolan.

“Don’t let his lackey out of our sight. And call Malibu PD. They should bring their CSU too. There’s a piece of clothing that might have blood on it.”

Without waiting for a response, she turned around to continue “escorting” Collison out of the house.

*

Jessie waited for someone to call her out.

They were driving back to Central Station. A Malibu PD black-and-white was following them with Collison in the backseat. Their CSU was processing the hidden room. As they’d driven off, Matilda had yelled out to Jett not to say anything. Apparently, in addition to her Perrier-getting skills, she was now an amateur lawyer too.

Having had an hour to calm down, Jessie knew she’d probably overreacted and let her frustration boil over. Part of it was legitimately directed at a guy who may have killed a young woman. But even as she was shoving him ahead of her to the front of the house, some part of her knew this was also misplaced, formless anger about Ryan getting stabbed.

She was helpless to do anything for him. But she could do this. The problem was that by storming out and taking Collison into custody, she’d lost the element of surprise. She could have had Murph keep Matilda away while she peppered the actor with questions about the keepsakes he didn’t know she’d found. But now that option was out, he’d be on guard.

They were halfway back to the station when Dolan finally spoke.

“You know,” he said, looking straight ahead, “you and your father aren’t that different.”

She turned to face him, not sure she had heard him correctly.

“What in the goddamn hell do you mean by that?” she demanded.

“I don’t mean it as a dig. It’s just an observation. You are both relentless in pursuing your goals. In your case, the goal is Claire’s killer. In his case, it’s you. You both use stealthy techniques to achieve those goals until you determine that a full-on frontal assault is more effective. And you both have terrible impulse control. In your case, that manifests as recklessly arresting a movie star. And in his case, it manifests as murdering people. But you get my point.”