The Perfect Impression

a suspect. Not wanting to exacerbatetensions, she pressed on.
“What happened next, Ms. Ferro?”
“The door was open a little bit, barely noticeable if I hadn’t beenright in front of it,” she answered. “I wasn’t sure if they were in there or ifthey forgot to close it when they left, so I called into the room. No oneanswered so I pushed it open more. I called out again but didn’t hear anything.The lamp light was on so I went in further. That’s when I saw her.”
She stopped, seemingly temporarily undone by the memory. Jessie waiteda few seconds before proceeding, happy to use the time to study the woman forsigns of deception. Unable to discern anything overt, she continued.
“How long were you in there?”
“Not very long, maybe thirty seconds,” Ferro replied. “I called out toher. She was naked and I thought she might be sleeping, even though somethingfelt wrong. I rushed over to the bed. The light was low and I didn’t evenregister the knife or the blood at first. I think I was in denial or something.I shook her to wake her up. Then I realized that her eyes were open. I backed upand saw the knife and all the blood. After that, I just kind of lost it. Istarted screaming and ran out of the room. That’s when I saw the waiter.”
She stopped talking and shook her head as if trying to get the imageout of her head. Jessie gave her another moment before pushing a bit.
“I assume you got the blood on your clothes when you were trying towake her up?” she asked.
Melissa Ferro looked down at the jogging suit, seeming to process forthe first time that it was discolored and damp.
“Oh no,” she moaned. “I had no idea. I have to get this thing off.”
She started to unzip the top and Jessie saw that she only had a bra onunderneath.
“Hold on,” she ordered, making the woman stop mid-zip. “I know theblood is upsetting, but it’s evidence. We’ll have someone accompany you to yoursuite momentarily so you can change and we can bag the clothing. But for now,you need to stay put.”
The woman squirmed in her chair but didn’t argue. Hoping to get hermind off it, and feeling bad for the truly awful position she was putting thewoman in, Jessie went in a different direction.
“So I just want to try to nail down that timeline a little more, Ms.Ferro,” she said. “It could be really important to finding out what happened.Where were you before you went back to your room?”
Melissa Ferro looked back at her, and for the first time Jessie sawcalculation in her eyes. She paused for several seconds before answering.
“I was just hanging out with people, you know flitting about. I waskind of drunk so I can’t remember everywhere I was exactly. In fact, I’m stillkind of tipsy, which hasn’t been fun under the circumstances.”
Jessie was about to press her for more details when there was a loudbanging on the door. Everyone looked over as it burst open to reveal a slightlyheavyset man with receding brown hair and a flushed face. He was clutching somethingin his right hand. It only took a fraction of a second for Jessie to realize itwas an almost empty beer mug. Without a word, he slammed it against the wall,leaving him gripping a chunk of jagged glass. Then he stepped forward.

CHAPTER FIVE
Before Jessie could reach for her gun, or anyone else could say a word,he shouted at all of them.
“I’m not waiting a second longer. Tell me what happened to my wife!”
“What are you doing, Steve?” Melissa Ferro screeched.
“Mr. Crewe—” Detective Peters barked as he pushed up from his chair.
Jessie, who was closest to the door, wasn’t in a talking mood. As theman approached, she stood up and kicked her chair in his direction. It hit him,and though it didn’t do any damage, it did stop his forward movement.
Jessie, however, didn’t stop hers. Grabbing her backpack off the tableby a shoulder strap, she stepped toward him, swinging it in front of her. Theman raised the hand with the piece of glass, more for protection than toattack. As the backpack made contact with it, she let go and the pack slammedinto the wall.
She ignored that, grabbed the man’s right forearm with both hands atthe elbow and the wrist, and yanked it down like it was a plank of wood sheplanned to break over her knee. The force of the impact made the man drop the chunkof glass. Jessie continued moving, spinning around behind the man while stillholding his arm with her left hand so that they were back to back. She swungher right elbow in the direction of his left kidney and made solid contact,forcing a grunt. Then she kicked him in the back of the knee, only releasinghis arm when she heard him hit the ground.
She turned around to face the man, who was now on his knees with hisback to her. He was slumped, head down, groaning. Wasting no time, she pulledout her cuffs, yanked his hands behind his back, and secured them. After that,she kicked away the sharp chunk of glass. Only then did she step around to facehim. He stared up at her, breathing heavily and still wincing.
“Not the best first impression, Mr. Crewe,” she said calmly.
He looked like he wanted to respond, but couldn’t seem to catch hisbreath. Detective Peters came around the table, helped him to his feet, andthen forcefully pushed him down into the chair Jessie had kicked at him. Whenhe looked at Jessie, his eyes were wide with surprise.
“I didn’t realize I was working with John Wick here,” he said, unableto keep the astonishment out of his voice.
“Let’s keep our attention on Mr. Crewe,” Jessie replied, unsure whetherhe was being sincere or sarcastic and not really caring.
“Care to explain yourself?” Peters demanded, turning back to Crewe and,for the first time expressing anything other than obsequiousness to a guest. Afterseveral more wheezy breaths, the man finally responded.
“I’ve been in that ballroom for over an hour and no