Dutton didn't know exactly what to expect, but Lux seemed to be exactly as others had described it: a den of upscale debauchery. Some of his colleagues had been there before—when "Decker was on the Force"—and they obviously missed the top shelf drinks and the eye candy that was all over the place. Dutton didn't really seek out that kind of experience. Not that he was a monk, no siree. It was just that … he preferred to drink in quiet places, with a couple of close friends. Where they could shoot the breeze. Not a place like this, where the music blared, the go-go dancers strutted their stuff, and the crowd was three deep at the bar.

He hoped Decker would keep her word, and find a quiet place for them to talk about the case. He had brought the files, despite the fact that he'd get a talking to—at least—from the Lieutenant, if she ever found out about this little off-the-books discussion. Honestly, he wasn't sure why he was doing this, except that he'd been stuck and his call with Decker a couple of hours ago had led to an exciting lead. That one question: How did they know the house was empty? That question might have broken the investigation open.

In which case, he owed Decker one. A big one.

Even at 7 PM, there was a decent line behind the red velvet rope. He'd ignored the crowd and walked up to the doorman.

He said, "Dutton—" Before he could finish his sentence, the doorman had waved him in. "Welcome to Lux, Detective," he'd said. Decker had certainly greased the skids. He wondered how she had gotten the juice to pull that off.

Who was Decker, anyway? A legend in the Department. He knew that much. People still talked about her, months after she'd retired. And she still had friends, obviously. Because how else would she have known so much about the case? She'd mentioned that she had a fiancée, now. That Morningstar character. Everybody still talked about him, months after he'd quit his consulting gig. The women talked of him with awe in their voices, and the men talked about him through gritted teeth. He seemed to have made an impression on just about everybody.

Morningstar was one of those larger-than-life characters, apparently. God's gift to women, with tons of money. Basically, the opposite of who he was. He preferred to keep his head down and focus on working the case, rather than acting out. Dutton figured he was not going to get along with Morningstar, but Decker had kind of insisted he be there.

Apparently, their relationship had been a lot closer than anybody had known, because now they were engaged. It figures, he thought. Morningstar had looks and money. Decker would have been stupid to let him get away. And one thing that everybody could agree on was that Decker had not been stupid. Far from it.

He hoped she could help him tonight.

As he walked into the maelstrom that was Lux, a large man in a suit came up to him. Dutton noticed the earpiece and figured the guy was one of the bouncers. Lux must need more than a few bouncers, he thought.

The guy led Dutton up some stairs to an elevator. The doors opened and the guy pushed the top button. "Have a pleasant evening, Detective," he said. Then the doors closed and Dutton felt himself heading up.

The doors opened and he walked into a richly appointed penthouse apartment. There were books everywhere and on the back wall was a shelf full of booze. There was a grand piano in the middle of the room. This must be Morningstar's place. The guy lived above a club, and still had a full bar in his apartment. The guy must like to drink—a lot.

Beyond the piano was a wall of windows and a balcony, with an amazing view of the sun setting over downtown LA, copper rays reflecting off the skyscraper windows. He was so caught in the view that he almost didn't notice the two women sitting in a couch in front of him. They had obviously been eating dinner, but now they were just sitting there with wine glasses in front of them. One he didn't know—that must be Decker.

But the other? It was Ella Lopez, his Forensic Scientist. What was she doing here? Suddenly, Dutton understood where the leaks had come from. His eyes narrowed and his face got red. She had no right—no right—to be involving civilians in his investigation. No matter how good their track record might have been.

Lopez was going to pay for this.

#

Chloe and Ella had finished their dinners and were enjoying a glass of wine as they waited for Dutton to arrive. Chloe had warned Ella that Dutton was coming, but had also told her "Don't worry; I've got your back on this." That assurance didn't really help Ella relax, since she knew that Dutton was going to be more than a little upset.

The elevator doors opened and Dutton stepped out. Chloe watched closely as his head tracked around the penthouse, then stopped for a couple of seconds on the view. He pulled his focus back and she watched him identify Ella. He was surprised for a second, but then his face got red.

"Hello, Detective," she said. "Your club soda is on the bar, on your right."

"What is she doing here?" he said. "I mean, I know what she's doing here, and there's going to be hell to pay. I can promise you that, Lopez!"

Chloe laid her hand on Ella's arm. "Detective, before you start making threats that you have no ability to carry out, how about you get your drink and join us? Maybe—I don't know—maybe ask a few questions before going off? Get some information. That approach usually helps me from making mistakes."

Dutton shook his head. "This was going to be just you and me tonight. And Morningstar. Lopez here changes that. And I know she's been feeding you information."

"Well, maybe not as much as you might be thinking. But it's all water under the bridge, anyway."

"What do you mean, Decker?"

"I mean that, as of today, I am officially a consultant to Ms. Lopez here. All paperwork has been cleared by Personnel. So as an official consultant, Ms. Lopez—and you—have every right to speak to me about the case."

"That's for real? You became a consultant in—what?—about two hours? If so, you just set a record, lady."

"Well, yes and no. I mean, yes—I'm official. But no, because I didn't set the record. The record was set by my fiancée." She called out to the other room of the penthouse. "Hey, Lucifer! How long did it take you to 'persuade' the Lieutenant to make you a consultant?"

The three of them heard a British-sounding voice come from the other room. "Actually, you may have beaten me, darling," the voice said. "In actual time, it took the Lieutenant about 45 minutes to get Personnel to clear me. But I had asked in the morning, and it wasn't until the evening of the second day that she delivered on her side of the bargain. You'll recall it took us about that long to solve the case and bring the malefactors to justice. Thus, the entire matter took about two days. I will gladly give you the victory."

Chloe watched Dutton as he watched Lucifer emerge from the bedroom, dressed for the evening. She saw Dutton watch as her fiancée poured himself a drink and sat down on the closest chair. She saw Dutton shake himself and return focus to Ella and herself.

"All right, Decker. I don't know how you did it, but if you're a consultant then we have no problems with discussing the details of the case with you. Or with any … premature discussions." He shot Ella a look.

"Magnificent!" Lucifer proclaimed. "Now on to the case."

Dutton opened his briefcase and pulled out the files. "Here's the ME report, and the interview notes, and the—"

Lucifer interrupted him. "No. No, no, no. Those are the boring bits. I'm not here for the boring bits."

"Then what are you here for, Mr. Morningstar?" Dutton asked.

Chloe answered, "We want to know how everybody knew the house was empty."

"Indeed," Lucifer said. "Houses simply do not sit empty in Bel Air."

"Right," Dutton said. "That was a brilliant question, Decker, if I do say so myself. Wish I'd thought of it."

Chloe saw that Lucifer was going to correct Dutton, but then thought better of it. He looked at her, smiled, and inclined his head. "Yes," he murmured. "Well done, Detective. Well done, indeed." Then he took another sip of his bourbon.

She said, "So what did you learn?"

"The house was coming on the market soon," he replied. "They had already started to take out the furniture. They were going to finish taking it all out and then start staging with new furniture in a couple of days."

Chloe said, "But there's more, isn't there?"

"Yes!" Dutton said. "The most interesting thing is who the listing agent is."

"Well, don't leave us hanging, dude," Ella said. "Who's the agent?"

"Maria Pearson. Charles Pearson's wife."

"Oh, interesting!" Chloe said.

"Isn't it?" Dutton replied. "Finally, a connection between the vic and Pearson. I mean, it's not enough for an arrest. But it's more than I had yesterday." He looked at Chloe. "Thank you for that."

She brushed it off. "We're not done, yet. Let's explore this." She sat back and took a sip of her wine. It was almost empty. "Lucifer, would you be an angel and get me some more wine, please?" she said with a smile.

"Of course, m'dear." He got up and went to the bar, returning with an open bottle of French burgundy.

Ella almost choked on her wine when Chloe said what she'd said. Chloe looked at her and wondered … did Ella suspect? Or did she know? That conversation was coming up next, after Dutton departed.

After Ella had stopped coughing, she asked, "I thought Pearson's wife had left him—soon to be an ex-Pearson?"

Dutton sighed. "You have been talking with Dr. Martin. Of course you have. I swear, it feels like you girls have been gossiping in a sewing circle, the way you swap information back and forth."

Lucifer looked at him sharply. "Excuse me, Detective Dutton. Kindly remember to whom you are speaking. You are speaking to former Homicide Detective Chloe Decker, a decorated veteran of the department who has more years' experience doing your job than you do. You're also speaking to Ms. Lopez, who is an outstanding Forensic Scientist! They are hardly 'girls,' nor are they gossip-mongers."

Dutton nodded. "Sorry. I got carried away. Won't happen again."

Lucifer nodded. "Then we'll say no more about it, other than to note that I, myself, have some experience in these matters, as a consultant to the Detective. An associate Detective, one might say." He smiled. "So here we are, three Detectives and a lady."

Chloe saw Dutton roll his eyes. She tried to hide her smile, but she couldn't. How like Lucifer to defend her—and Ella—and then make a terrible joke! I love him more each day, she thought.

"Anyway," Ella said, after a moment. "We know that Charles—Chuck—and his soon-to-be-ex-wife had some kind of fight. Word on the street is that she found out about his affairs. Plural."

Dutton grimaced. "'Word on the street,' huh?" he said. "You must have read Martin's files."

Ella said, "I did no such thing. That would have been wrong and Linda would never have let me do so."

"Linda? As in first-name basis? As in friendship?"

Chloe saw that Dutton was no dummy. He might be slow, but he wasn't stupid.

"Um, I plead The Fifth," Ella said. "Doesn't matter how I know what I know. I just know." She looked at Chloe. "Maybe an angel told me."

Ella knows, Chloe thought.

"Right," Dutton said. "Anyway, you're right about that. They had a fight recently, and she stormed out of the house. The notes that Martin and Corden took indicate multiple affairs over a long period. However, no names are ever mentioned. We can't confirm that Jacobsen was one of his affairs. The files are no help."

Chloe said, "Let's get back to what we know. We know that Mrs. Pearson—what's her first name?—we know that she was the listing agent. That means we know that she knew the house would be empty. The question is, would her husband have known?"

Dutton said, "First name Maria. Beautiful woman, from the pictures. Works out every day with a personal trainer. Guess she thought that keeping in shape would keep her husband's mind off the aspiring actresses." He grimaced. "Didn't work."

"We can posit that Maria told Chuck about the upcoming listing, or that he had access to her files. We can posit that he knew, somehow, that the house would be empty on that night. Then what?"

Lucifer said, "Then he communicates that information to the bachelor party attendees, or perhaps only to the best man. Empty house. A great place to throw a wild party." Then he frowned. "Only, it wouldn't be a great place, would it? It would be a dreary, dreadful place to hold a bachelor party. Cold, sterile, most of the furniture gone. No sound system, I assume. What a terrible choice."

He looked at the three others. "One could hardly pick a worse choice for a wild bacchanalia of a bachelor party. Yet, that's where they went." He shook his head. "We are missing critical pieces of the puzzle, as Ms. Lopez might say."

Ella said, "You know, that part has always bothered me. I mean, that had to be the most boring bachelor party in the history of LA! Seven dudes and a case of Jack Daniels. If all they were going to do is get drunk, they had their pick from about 500 dive bars. All of which would have decent sound systems."

Chloe said, "Maybe there was more to the party. Something that needed to take place out of the public eye." Her eyes widened. "Maybe a hooker—or somebody they thought was a hooker! Maybe a girl who'd been roofied and wasn't going to remember what happened that night!"

Dutton said, "Pearson set them up with a hooker, far away from prying eyes. Like the eyes of the fiancée! Maybe just the groom-to-be, maybe all of them. They weren't just there for the booze; they were there for the sex, to be provided by Pearson the way he provided the house!"

Chloe nodded. "Only it went wrong, somehow. Maybe she tried to resist. Maybe somebody got impatient. The actress-to-be falls or is pushed into the bathtub, and starts to bleed. She's got a broken neck and the blood is pouring out of her head. The perp figures she's dead, or soon will be, and then cleans up everything and sneaks out of the house, while the boys downstairs are drinking their way to oblivion, waiting for the hooker who never shows up. Only she did show up, but she never made it downstairs."

Dutton nodded. "That explains most everything. Pearson roofied her so she'd 'go along' with the sex downstairs. He tried to clean everything up, but missed a print on her belt."

Chloe asked, "What's your next step, Joe?"

"I'm going to re-interview the seven party boys, especially the best man and the groom. I'm going to break their story and get them to admit that Pearson promised them a hooker."

Chloe nodded. "You have a lot of leverage. Just threaten to tell your theory to the fiancée. One or both will crack."

Dutton nodded. "Right. And then when I have the truth, that will give me plenty for an arrest warrant. We'll have means and opportunity."

"But not motive," Lucifer said quietly. "Why did he desire to provide them with a hooker? Couldn't they have procured their own? And why use somebody that he was having an affair with—which we haven't proven he was, by the way—when, again, a prostitute would have been available for a couple of hundred dollars. Somewhat more if she was going to satisfy all seven."

Dutton, Chloe, and Ella looked at him. He was right. They had gotten too excited, too quickly. They still didn't have the story.

Chloe saw Lucifer close his dark eyes, thinking about something. They opened back up and he looked at Dutton. "It wasn't Charles Pearson," he said. "He didn't do the crime. You've been pursuing the wrong suspect."

Dutton got angry. "It's the only plausible theory," he said. "You'd understand if—"

Chloe interrupted his tirade before it could get started. "Who was it then, Lucifer?" she asked.

"It was the wife, of course," he said. "Maria Pearson. She found out about the relationship between Jacobsen and her husband, then she set out to destroy them both. She found the girl and persuaded her to come to the house, well before the party started. Perhaps she offered her a job as a part-time real estate agent. The pay would be better than the girl had been making as a part-time waitress, plus the hours would be more flexible to allow for auditions and the like." He nodded. "Yes, they went to the house so that Maria could show Ms. Jacobsen how the business worked. A tour, so to speak. That's when it happened."

The others just looked at him. Finally, Chloe said, "There's more, isn't there?"

He nodded. "They had a drink to celebrate. To seal the deal, as it were. That's when the unfortunate young lady was roofied. The girl became disoriented and Maria pushed her into the bathtub—hard. Hard enough to cause the physical damage. Then she cleaned-up after herself, being very thorough."

Ella said, "What about the husband's print on the vic's belt?"

Lucifer shook his head. "Ms. Lopez, I am surprised. Have you never transferred a fingerprint from one medium to another? Perhaps by using Scotch tape?"

Ella's eyes widened. "I can check for that. I can check for residue that might indicate that such a transfer took place." Then she paused. "But it took force to push that girl into the tub. A lot of force. I don't think a woman could have done it."

Chloe said, "A woman who worked out every day with a personal trainer?" She looked at Dutton. "Interview the personal trainer. See if she did a lot of weightlifting. See if she could have been strong enough."

Dutton nodded. "Will do." He looked at the three of them. "Let me see if I've got this. First, Charles Pearson has an affair with Jacobsen. We'll need to prove that. We don't have evidence yet. Then his wife finds out and plays nice to the vic. Invites her to view a house that's coming on the market. Maybe offers her a job. Roofies her and kills her, and arranges things to look like her husband did the deed." He paused. "Well, that would be a lot cheaper than a divorce attorney, for sure. And she'd wind up with everything, while he rots in prison."

Chloe nodded. "Check the wife's phone records. See if there were any calls between Maria and Kathryn. I bet there were—and that's your link." She paused. "I think Chuck will start to cooperate if you lay this in front of him, show him how his wife was plotting to have him put away for life while she lived a life of luxury. I bet he'll give you the affair, because doing so will show motive for the wife's actions."

Dutton nodded. "Agreed. But what about the bachelor party?"

Chloe said, "Oh, I think that went down pretty much as Lucifer explained. Chuck knew about the house, somehow. Maybe he'll give that to you, as well. He invited the party boys to use it. Maybe they were short on cash. Bachelor parties can get expensive. Check the best-man's bank account; that should tell you what you need to know. Maybe he said, 'Hey, free house and free booze, on me.' I can see that, if he wanted something from them. Maybe something to do with the production. You can interview the production team and see if there's anything there that tells us why he'd do that." She paused and smiled sadly. "I'm guessing it was a terrible coincidence. Unless—"

Dutton said, "Unless what?"

"Unless the wife knew about the party! Then her plan came together. Kill the girl, blame the husband, and have seven people ready to testify under oath that he invited them there. For a bachelor party. Perhaps with a hooker, perhaps with a poor, innocent, girl who'd been roofied."

Ella said, "And the tips? The anonymous tips that keep helping us? What do you bet they came from Maria? Not her cell phone, of course. Maybe a burner? But she made them. Just trying to be helpful, as we investigated the husband."

Dutton nodded again. "That is a great theory, and I have lots of leads to work in order to confirm it." He looked at Chloe. "I think I see why you're a legend in the Station, Decker. And you too, Morningstar. You both make a great team."

He looked at Ella. "As for you … well, I can see why you did what you did. As Morningstar said, 'We'll say no more about it.' You and I—we're good."

Ella pulled him up and gave him a big hug. "Welcome to the team!"

After he was done hugging Ella, Dutton said to nobody in particular, "I think I'll take that drink now."