The Perfect Alibi (A Jessie Hunt Psychological Suspense Thriller—Book Eight) Read online

  t h e p e r f e c t a l i b i

  (a jessie hunt psychological suspense—book 8)

  b l a k e p i e r c e

  Blake Pierce

  Blake Pierce is the USA Today bestselling author of the RILEY PAGE mystery series, which includes seventeen books. Blake Pierce is also the author of the MACKENZIE WHITE mystery series, comprising fourteen books; of the AVERY BLACK mystery series, comprising six books; of the KERI LOCKE mystery series, comprising five books; of the MAKING OF RILEY PAIGE mystery series, comprising six books; of the KATE WISE mystery series, comprising seven books; of the CHLOE FINE psychological suspense mystery, comprising six books; of the JESSE HUNT psychological suspense thriller series, comprising eight books (and counting); of the AU PAIR psychological suspense thriller series, comprising three books; of the ZOE PRIME mystery series, comprising four books (and counting); of the new ADELE SHARP mystery series; and of the new EUROPEAN VOYAGE cozy mystery series.

  ONCE GONE (a Riley Paige Mystery--Book #1), BEFORE HE KILLS (A Mackenzie White Mystery—Book 1), CAUSE TO KILL (An Avery Black Mystery—Book 1), A TRACE OF DEATH (A Keri Locke Mystery—Book 1), WATCHING (The Making of Riley Paige—Book 1), NEXT DOOR (A Chloe Fine Psychological Suspense Mystery—Book 1), THE PERFECT WIFE (A Jessie Hunt Psychological Suspense Thriller—Book One), and IF SHE KNEW (A Kate Wise Mystery—Book 1) are each available as a free download on Amazon!

  An avid reader and lifelong fan of the mystery and thriller genres, Blake loves to hear from you, so please feel free to visit www.blakepierceauthor.com to learn more and stay in touch.

  Copyright © 2020 by Blake Pierce. All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior permission of the author. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Jacket image Copyright Abie Aguiar , used under license from Shutterstock.com.

  BOOKS BY BLAKE PIERCE

  EUROPEAN VOYAGE COZY MYSTERY SERIES

  MURDER (AND BAKLAVA) (Book #1)

  DEATH (AND APPLE STRUDEL) (Book #2)

  CRIME (AND LAGER) (Book #3)

  ADELE SHARP MYSTERY SERIES

  LEFT TO DIE (Book #1)

  LEFT TO RUN (Book #2)

  LEFT TO HIDE (Book #3)

  LEFT TO KILL (Book #4)

  LEFT TO MURDER (Book #5)

  LEFT TO ENVY (Book #6)

  LEFT TO LAPSE (Book #7)

  THE AU PAIR SERIES

  ALMOST GONE (Book#1)

  ALMOST LOST (Book #2)

  ALMOST DEAD (Book #3)

  ZOE PRIME MYSTERY SERIES

  FACE OF DEATH (Book#1)

  FACE OF MURDER (Book #2)

  FACE OF FEAR (Book #3)

  FACE OF MADNESS (Book #4)

  FACE OF FURY (Book #5)

  FACE OF DARKNESS (Book #6)

  A JESSIE HUNT PSYCHOLOGICAL SUSPENSE SERIES

  THE PERFECT WIFE (Book #1)

  THE PERFECT BLOCK (Book #2)

  THE PERFECT HOUSE (Book #3)

  THE PERFECT SMILE (Book #4)

  THE PERFECT LIE (Book #5)

  THE PERFECT LOOK (Book #6)

  THE PERFECT AFFAIR (Book #7)

  THE PERFECT ALIBI (Book #8)

  THE PERFECT NEIGHBOR (Book #9)

  CHLOE FINE PSYCHOLOGICAL SUSPENSE SERIES

  NEXT DOOR (Book #1)

  A NEIGHBOR’S LIE (Book #2)

  CUL DE SAC (Book #3)

  SILENT NEIGHBOR (Book #4)

  HOMECOMING (Book #5)

  TINTED WINDOWS (Book #6)

  KATE WISE MYSTERY SERIES

  IF SHE KNEW (Book #1)

  IF SHE SAW (Book #2)

  IF SHE RAN (Book #3)

  IF SHE HID (Book #4)

  IF SHE FLED (Book #5)

  IF SHE FEARED (Book #6)

  IF SHE HEARD (Book #7)

  THE MAKING OF RILEY PAIGE SERIES

  WATCHING (Book #1)

  WAITING (Book #2)

  LURING (Book #3)

  TAKING (Book #4)

  STALKING (Book #5)

  KILLING (Book #6)

  RILEY PAIGE MYSTERY SERIES

  ONCE GONE (Book #1)

  ONCE TAKEN (Book #2)

  ONCE CRAVED (Book #3)

  ONCE LURED (Book #4)

  ONCE HUNTED (Book #5)

  ONCE PINED (Book #6)

  ONCE FORSAKEN (Book #7)

  ONCE COLD (Book #8)

  ONCE STALKED (Book #9)

  ONCE LOST (Book #10)

  ONCE BURIED (Book #11)

  ONCE BOUND (Book #12)

  ONCE TRAPPED (Book #13)

  ONCE DORMANT (Book #14)

  ONCE SHUNNED (Book #15)

  ONCE MISSED (Book #16)

  ONCE CHOSEN (Book #17)

  MACKENZIE WHITE MYSTERY SERIES

  BEFORE HE KILLS (Book #1)

  BEFORE HE SEES (Book #2)

  BEFORE HE COVETS (Book #3)

  BEFORE HE TAKES (Book #4)

  BEFORE HE NEEDS (Book #5)

  BEFORE HE FEELS (Book #6)

  BEFORE HE SINS (Book #7)

  BEFORE HE HUNTS (Book #8)

  BEFORE HE PREYS (Book #9)

  BEFORE HE LONGS (Book #10)

  BEFORE HE LAPSES (Book #11)

  BEFORE HE ENVIES (Book #12)

  BEFORE HE STALKS (Book #13)

  BEFORE HE HARMS (Book #14)

  AVERY BLACK MYSTERY SERIES

  CAUSE TO KILL (Book #1)

  CAUSE TO RUN (Book #2)

  CAUSE TO HIDE (Book #3)

  CAUSE TO FEAR (Book #4)

  CAUSE TO SAVE (Book #5)

  CAUSE TO DREAD (Book #6)

  KERI LOCKE MYSTERY SERIES

  A TRACE OF DEATH (Book #1)

  A TRACE OF MUDER (Book #2)

  A TRACE OF VICE (Book #3)

  A TRACE OF CRIME (Book #4)

  A TRACE OF HOPE (Book #5)

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  CHAPTER THIRTY ONE

  CHAPTER
THIRTY TWO

  CHAPTER THIRTY THREE

  CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR

  CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE

  CHAPTER THIRTY SIX

  CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN

  CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT

  CHAPTER THIRTY NINE

  CHAPTER FORTY

  CHAPTER FORTY ONE

  CHAPTER ONE

  Caroline Gidley, crouched in a tight ball, used her inner thighs to hug herself for warmth. Even though it was late spring, it got chilly at night, especially under her circumstances.

  It was crazy that she could even think of them as merely “circumstances.” But after four days tied up in a dog crate, wearing only her bra and panties, with just a thin blanket to cover her, this had somehow become her new normal.

  It had started so innocuously. She’d been walking to her car after leaving work when a man asked for directions to the freeway. They were in a busy public parking lot and he was so unassuming and hesitant when he approached that her initial wariness faded quickly. She started to answer, turning and pointing back east.

  Before she even realized it was happening, he was on her, placing a thick cloth over her mouth and nose. As she lost consciousness, she saw him pop the trunk of the car next to hers. She had one final thought as he shoved her in and slammed the trunk door closed.

  He parked right next to me. He planned this.

  When she woke up, she was in the crate, in just her underclothes, with her hands bound together in front of her by tight, thin bungee cord. She had looked around her surroundings and quickly determined that she was being held in some kind of dilapidated building. Loose wires hung from the ceiling and some windows were broken. There was no interior lighting and the fading sunlight suggested that it had been several hours since she was taken.

  Almost on cue, the man had walked in through a thick metal door. Her heart began to thump almost audibly. She could smell her own fear. She tried to set that aside and focus on her abductor.

  As he got closer, she’d noticed several things that she’d missed in that first, brief encounter. He was clearly wearing a wig. His thick, dark hair reminded Caroline of a 1980s heavy metal rocker. His wild beard was also obviously fake. So was the large, putty nose he wore. She doubted he even needed the thick-framed, tinted glasses he had on.

  When he got close, he smiled and she saw that he was wearing false teeth as well. His getup was so over the top that she suspected it was intentionally meant to be ridiculous.

  “Hello, Caroline,” he had said, speaking with a slight lisp that she assumed was due to the teeth. “This is the only time you’ll see me. From now on, you’ll be blindfolded. I haven’t gagged you but I will if I have to. If you try to remove your blindfold at any time, I will bind your hands behind your back instead of in front. If you try to escape, I’ll have to…hurt you. I don’t want to do that.”

  “Why are you doing this?” she had asked, trying to keep her voice from betraying her terror.

  “You wouldn’t understand. Your type never does.”

  Then he’d pulled something out from behind his back. It was some kind of dart gun.

  “Please,” she had begged, her voice cracking. “You don’t have to do this.”

  “Remember the rules,” he had told her impassively. “Follow them and this will go much better for you.”

  Without another word, he’d fired the gun. Caroline felt a sharp stinging sensation in her left thigh. Then everything felt heavy. Her eyes drooped and again the world faded to black.

  When she woke up the next time, she was blindfolded, as he’d promised she would be. The initial wave of panic she felt in those first hours eventually gave way to hope as she tried to gather whatever information she could. She kept track of time by when he brought her meals, by the relative warmth in the building, and by the slivers of light that peeked through the blindfold.

  At regular intervals, he would return, his shoes echoing on the concrete floor of the empty space. No matter how hard she tried to fight it, the sound made hyperventilate. She heard him unlock the padlock on the crate, slide open the containment bars, open the metal dog door, and drop two bowls on the floor. Because her wrists were bound, Caroline was reduced to lapping up the food and water from them like an actual dog.

  He never let her go to an actual bathroom. Instead, she would have to remove her underwear and go in a corner of the crate. He would intermittently enter the room and hose her and the floor down. Then he would leave again. After the first day, she learned her best bet was to shove her undergarments and blanket in the holes of the crate above her so they wouldn’t get as wet when the spray of water hit her.

  The routine became so regular that any variation in it was cause for concern. At one meal, he only brought her one bowl, explaining that since it was stew, it met all her needs. Another time, she woke up, certain it was morning, yet he didn’t arrive until lunchtime, making her fear he’d abandoned her completely.

  At times she found herself wondering whether others had abandoned her too. Were her friends and family aware that she was missing? If so, had they told the cops? Was anyone looking for her?

  But it was on this nippy, late spring night, as she tried to keep her pathetic blanket from sliding off her back by pressing herself against the crate wall, and as she pressed the insides of her thighs against her arms to keep from shivering, that she noticed another break in the routine.

  When he’d left her after collecting her dinner of water and canned black beans, she hadn’t heard the familiar sound of the man padlocking the crate before he left. He’d slid the containment bars into place but got a call on his cell phone right after that. As he walked off to answer it, he left the crate door unlocked.

  Caroline waited, expecting him to return and finish the job. But after what she estimated to be an hour, it became clear that he wasn’t going to. She was certain that he had a camera on her, so she was extra cautious when she ever so slightly pulled down her blindfold and glanced around.

  It was dark. The only light came from the half-moon peeking in through the broken windows. In the dimness, she didn’t see any surveillance equipment, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t there.

  As unobtrusively as possible, she looked over to where the padlock on the top containment bar should be. It was there, but sure enough, it hadn’t been snapped into place and was dangling off the bar. As far as she could tell, all she had to do to get out of the crate was knock the lock off and slide the bar to the side.

  Caroline sat quietly, debating how to proceed. If she was ever going to try to escape, this was the perfect time. If her previous nights here were any indication, the man wouldn’t return until morning at least. That would give her hours to try to get far away and hopefully find help. If she was going to make a move, now was the time.

  Her thoughts turned to what would happen to her if she did nothing. The man holding her clearly intended to kill her. It was only a matter of when. How many more days would he keep her in a crate, feed her out of a dog bowl, and hose her down before he got bored and moved on to something more exciting? Was she really going to stay crouched in a ball, waiting for it to happen?

  Before she’d even consciously made the choice, her fingers were through the dog crate wires, straining to reach and remove the padlock. They were numb from lack of use and the bungee cords around her wrists, but she was eventually able to clasp and remove the padlock. Then she gripped the top containment bar and slid it to the right. She did the same with bottom one. Then she pushed. The door creaked open. For a second, she sat there, frozen in place, terrified. Then she scrambled out.

  Standing upright for the first time in days was painful and difficult. Caroline pushed off the ground on the unfeeling palms of her hands. As she rose unsteadily to her feet, she felt the muscles in her thighs and calves seize up. It took nearly a minute before she felt confident taking a step. Once she was fairly sure she wouldn’t collapse, she made her way to the door she’d seen the man enter through on that first night.
She pushed hard but it was locked from the outside.

  She looked around as she yanked the blindfold off completely. There were no other visible doors. Then her eyes fell on one of the broken windows. It was too high to climb out of and she was in no position to take a running leap. She searched the room for a chair but there were none. There was the crate though.

  With what little strength she had, Caroline dragged it over so that it rested just under the window. There were cracked shards around the edges of the windowsill and she used her elbows to smash them out. Then she climbed on top of the crate, praying that it would support her weight. It held steady.

  Unable to brace herself with her bound hands, she leaned out over the window, resting her forearms on the sill. As she pressed down, she felt a few remaining shards of glass dig into her skin. She tried to ignore them, focusing instead on how far a drop it was to the ground below. In the dull moonlight, she guessed it was about five feet.

  She didn’t have much choice. So she braced her forearms on the ledge and pushed off hard against the crate with her feet. It slid away as she moved and she fell, her midsection and hips slamming against the sill and the razor-sharp bits that had collected there.

  Luckily, most of her weight had landed on the outside portion of the ledge and she slowly tumbled out headfirst. She landed on her right shoulder before falling onto her back with a thud. Ignoring the bone-rattling pain, she got to her feet and staggered away from the building, looking for anything approximating a road.

  After several minutes of searching, she found one by accident when her bare feet moved from grass to dirt and gravel. She looked down, barely able to discern the difference in color between the two surfaces. Still, she did her best to follow the road, using her feet as a guide more than her eyes and trying not to let panic control her.

  As she rounded a corner by a hillside, she wondered where he’d taken her that she couldn’t see any city lights. And then, all at once they were there. As soon as she cleared the hill, the bright lights of downtown L.A. gleamed at her like a city-sized lighthouse offering her both warning and comfort.