The Perfect Mistress (A Jessie Hunt Psychological Suspense Thriller—Book Fifteen) Page 4

  “And in her fancy consultant capacity, almost never,” Ryan added.

  Jessie suddenly realized that the two of them had never met.

  “Karen, this is Ryan Hernandez. He’s the lead detective for Homicide Special Section. Ryan, meet Karen Bray. She was my rock in several cases last year, as I believe I may have told you.”

  “Nice to meet you, Karen,” Ryan said, extending his hand. “Jessie speaks very highly of you, even when you’re not around.”

  “That very nice,” she replied, “though I doubt she blushes when she talks about me the way she does when she mentions you.”

  “You might be surprised,” Ryan countered.

  Jessie could feel her face starting to flush at that very moment. The process was abruptly cut short when the next person walked through the door: it was Kat.

  As usual, she was dressed in blue jeans, a casually professional shirt, and a brown leather jacket. The unremarkable outfit masked the powerfully built woman underneath. At five foot seven and 140 pounds, she didn’t look like what she was: an elite military veteran capable of easily killing someone with her bare hands. Like Karen, her dark blonde hair was pulled back into a no-fuss ponytail. Her focused eyes missed nothing.

  Suddenly embarrassment was replaced by awkwardness. Maybe it was a result of Jessie’s closest friend, who had so recently betrayed her trust, seeing her so chummy with another female friend. Maybe it was the fact that they hadn’t seen each other since the evening the Night Hunter had invaded Jessie’s home, just after she and Kat had established a delicate détente while solving a murder together. Whatever the reason, the discomfort lingered in the air. Ryan tried to make it dissipate.

  “Glad you could make it, Kat,” he said warmly.

  He was the one who had called her, albeit at Jessie’s request. That was one of the conditions she had insisted Decker meet if she was to go to Wildpines today. Whatever personal issues still remained unresolved between them, she wanted Kat on the Night Hunter case.

  Part of the reason she wanted Kat on board was so her friend would be working with and under the protection of the LAPD. Jessie knew that with herself, Ryan, and Hannah under protection, the Night Hunter might decide to go after someone else close to her, either as punishment or as bait. Katherine “Kat” Gentry was her best friend and the logical next choice. It would be harder to get to her if she was working with cops.

  The other reason she wanted Kat around was more selfish. Unlike employees of the Los Angeles Police Department, Kat was a private detective and therefore, not subject to all their rules and regulations. She could immediately go places they needed a warrant to access. She wasn’t constrained by the same rules when questioning witnesses and suspects. If they needed something done fast and dirty, Kat was more likely to have success.

  Additionally, Kat’s Army Ranger experience while in a war zone in Afghanistan meant she was unlikely to lose her nerve in a sticky situation. Her shrapnel-pocked face and the long vertical scar under her left eye, permanent gifts from a run-in with an IED, were evidence that she wasn’t afraid of sacrifice. Finally, it didn’t hurt that she clearly still felt guilty about her deception regarding Hannah and would do almost anything to make up for it.

  “How’s it going?” she asked when Kat walked over.

  “I’m fine,” her friend replied. “More importantly, how are you guys doing? The last time I saw you, we were celebrating catching a killer. The next thing I hear, you all are in hiding because the Night Hunter snuck into your house.”

  “Waltzed right in is more like it,” Ryan corrected. “We were idiots. If not for Jessie’s obsession with panic rooms and a few spare gas masks, Hannah and I wouldn’t be here right now.”

  “Well, I’m glad you are,” Kat said, and then looked directly at Jessie, “all of you.”

  “Thanks,” Jessie replied. “I know we were going to have lunch and…catch up. But obviously some stuff came up. Maybe we can reschedule after the old-timey serial killer is captured?”

  “It’s a date,” Kat replied.

  “I think we have everyone,” Decker announced loudly to let them know the time for chit-chat was over. “Our guests of honor are on a tight timetable before they have to leave us, so we should get started. Let’s discuss how we’re going to catch this bastard.”

  He was about to continue when there was knock on the door. Jessie watched Marshal Sam Mason listen to a message in his earpiece.

  “Copy that,” he whispered, “Opening up now.”

  He unlocked and opened the door. As the latest entrant walked in there was a collective gasp of surprise from almost everyone. But not from Jessie.

  Standing in the doorway was Hannah.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “Hi everyone,” her sister said, in a faux chipper tone. “Didn’t you all know that this was ‘take your sister to work’ day?”

  No one laughed. Decker glared at Jessie and she knew what he was thinking: this was a bad idea.

  This had been her second condition before she agreed to go to Wildpines today. Hannah had to be brought into the loop. Despite Jessie’s desire to protect her sister from the ugliness they were facing, the days of hiding the truth from her had to end. Technically she’d be an adult in just a few months. And in reality, her childhood had ended the day she saw her adoptive parents slaughtered in front of her by her own father.

  She deserved to know what was going on. Just as importantly, Jessie had come to believe that having access to this information was crucial to her recovery. If Hannah felt like she was part of the decision-making process, maybe it would curb her reckless need to make sneaky choices which put her safety and stability at risk. Jessie wasn’t sure it would work. But keeping secrets from Hannah had only led her to respond in kind. Maybe uncut honesty would serve them all better.

  “Go ahead, Captain,” she said to Decker, motioning for Hannah to come sit next to her. “You were about to explain how we plan to catch the Night Hunter.”

  Decker paused for a second and Jessie thought he might be about to bail on their agreement. But he seemed to sense they were past the point of no return and shrugged.

  “Okay,” he began, “here’s what we’re thinking. The problem up until now is that we’ve been handling this case piecemeal. We only recently learned that this guy was back in circulation. It took a while after that to realize that he was killing his victims as a way to send a message to Hunt.”

  “Why would he do that?” Detective Nettles asked.

  Jessie took the question.

  “It’s complicated,” she said. “We believe that he viewed Garland Moses as his nemesis, the one person who ever came close to catching him. Twenty years ago, Garland caught up to him. Their physical confrontation almost killed him. Most people thought it killed the Night Hunter too. But Garland never bought that. He had extensive files in his house that show as much. Our theory is that once the Night Hunter learned of Garland’s murder at the hands of his protégé’s ex-husband, he was intrigued.”

  “What does that mean exactly?” Karen asked.

  Ryan picked up from there.

  “We think he wanted to see if Jessie was as good as her mentor, if she was a worthy adversary. That’s why started killing people with her initials, and later with Hannah’s. He also changed his method of murder. Back in the old days when he was on the East Coast, he hacked people up with a machete. But here in L.A., he injects them with a paralyzing drug, then removes their skin with an X-Acto knife. We found a reference in Garland’s files to him doing that once before he went into hiding. He likely wanted to see if Jessie could make the connection, which she did.”

  “Unfortunately,” Decker jumped in. “Things have escalated. Last Tuesday night, he managed to get into their house. He intended to do his X-Acto routine on all of them and when that didn’t work, he tried to poison them with gas. His days of sending messages seem to be over. Now he just wants blood. That’s why you haven’t had your friends around lately. It’s why our
colleagues from the Marshals Service are joining us here today. And it’s also why Hunt, Hernandez, and Hannah won’t be with us after this meeting. Once we’re done, they’ll be taken to an undisclosed location until the Night Hunter is caught or killed.”

  “But how are we supposed to catch one of the most notorious serial killers of the last half-century without the help of the people who know the most about him?” Detective Reid asked.

  “They won’t be around,” Decker acknowledged. “But that doesn’t mean they won’t be available to help.”

  “That’s right,” Jessie said. “We won’t be here in the office or in the field with you. But we still plan to coordinate with the teams doing the active investigation. If you have questions, call. If you need information, let us know. Just because we’re not out there with you doesn’t mean we’re not engaged.”

  “The plan is for Winslow to provide leads,” Decker added. “He’s been diligently going through surveillance footage for the last week. We caught one murder on video, clearly by the Night Hunter’s design. He was performing for us. We also know he prefers to drive older cars, mostly from the 20th century. He likes clunkers without GPS systems in them. Winslow’s been tracking down any vehicle from near the crime scenes that fit the description. Based on video clips and descriptions from folks in this room, there’s a decent shot we may find him via facial recognition. The guy is good at hiding—very careful—but all it takes is one slip-up and we’re on him.”

  “I’ve already got a list of seven potential haunts that he might have used recently,” Jamil volunteered. “I may also have a lead on a couple of used car dealerships where he got his vehicles. We know he’s used at least three different cars in the last few months. We found all of them abandoned. Two were burned out. None had fingerprints or DNA. I wouldn’t be surprised if he has at least that many still available to him. He prepared for this adventure well ahead of time.”

  “Which is why we’ve got a lot of catching up to do,” Decker said. “We’re going to split into two teams. Detectives Reid and Bray will work together. Detective Nettles will partner with Ms. Gentry. I know it’s rare to allow a non-LAPD investigator to join a unit investigation, but we’re short-handed and Hunt assures me that Gentry will be an asset. She certainly was in resolving the recent wedding murders.”

  Jessie wondered if Decker suspected the real reason she’d suggested Kat be paired with Nettles: he was the least experienced detective and might defer to her reputation as a war-hardened badass. She had a feeling that he knew and didn’t mind. Sometimes even a police captain liked having someone at his disposal that wasn’t bound by department regulations.

  Jessie looked around the room and sensed a confidence in the group that she found disconcerting. Though they all knew that Alan Trembley had died at the Night Hunter’s hands and a few of them had watched the video of him torturing Hallie Douglas, she got the feeling that some of them still thought a serial killer in his late seventies wasn’t a mortal threat to them. She decided to disabuse them of that impression.

  “Listen up,” she said, her voice quiet but forceful, “don’t think this is going to be a walk in the park. The man you’re after isn’t just an elderly gentleman with a few tricks and a small blade. He’s brilliant, he’s experienced, and he’s crafty. He walked into our home right under our noses when we were on high alert. He took Alan Trembley by surprise and left him bleeding out on a hostel floor. He’s killed at least three people in the last few months just because of their initials. Prior to dropping off the radar two decades ago, he killed over eighty people that we know of—hacked them to death with a machete. He’s probably murdered at least that many that we’ll never know about.”

  Everyone in the room was silent. Hannah had gone white. Jessie felt a brief rush of guilt at subjecting her teenage sister to so much horror. But that was the downside of deserving to know the truth—it was sometimes hard to hear. So she kept going.

  “Remember, this guy gets off on killing. It’s what brings him joy. And right now, he’s probably frustrated that he hasn’t gotten to us,” she said nodding at Ryan and Hannah. “He’s not going to give up on that. But his frustration is likely to make him lash out, maybe at other innocents who just happen to have the wrong initials, and probably soon. He may have already done so. Don’t underestimate this guy.”

  She looked over at Decker who didn’t have much to add. She could tell he thought that was a good note to end on.

  “Let’s wrap this up,” he said. “Say your goodbyes to these three and get to work. If we don’t solve this, they can’t resume their normal lives and Homicide Special Section will likely be disbanded. No pressure though.”

  He left the room without another word. The others lined up to offer their well wishes. No one asked where they were going. Everyone knew better than that. After everyone else but the marshal had filed out, Jessie approached Kat.

  “Ryan told you why we want you on this thing, right?” she asked under her breath.

  “Yep,” Kat assured her. “You need someone who can go places and do things legitimate cops can’t.”

  “Is that going to be a problem for you?”

  Kat looked at her as if she’d just been insulted.

  “What do you think?” she asked, before adding, “I’m your girl.”

  “Good,” Jessie replied, “Because I think we’re going to need your skill set before this is all said and done.”

  “Sorry to interrupt,” Marshal Mason said from behind them, “but if you’re going to get to your destination by your target time, you need to leave now.”

  “You should go,” Kat said. “Just stay safe. You never know what this guy is capable of.”

  “Same to you. Don’t let your guard down for a second.”

  “Don’t worry,” Kat said, “I don’t know how.”

  She gave Jessie’s hand a squeeze and walked out. Now it was just the three of them and their U.S. Marshal protector. He closed the door again. When he spoke, his voice was quiet but firm.

  “You’ll have a driver for the first leg of the trip, just until you get out of the city. Three identical vehicles will leave the garage at the same time as you. Your driver will use evasive maneuvers to look for tails in conjunction with the rest of the team. Once you’re out of town and we’re confident you’re not being followed, you’ll change cars. One that’s a little less conspicuous than a large black SUV has been assigned to you. You’ll take that the rest of the way to Wildpines. It’s tagged with GPS, but only the Marshals Service will have access to your location, and even then, just a select group of agents. In addition, we have a small field office in Palm Springs. Here’s the number. Ask for Marshal John Troy if you have any trouble. They can be at your door in forty-five minutes. Understood?”

  “Got it,” Jessie said.

  “I just want to reiterate that I think this is a terrible idea,” Mason said. “You’ll be unprotected, vulnerable, and away from immediate assistance.”

  “We understand, Sam,” Jessie said quietly, pulling him to the corner of the room so Hannah couldn’t hear. “But my sister needs to be able to get out and walk around a little. She’s in a sensitive emotional place and keeping her locked up for weeks on end is going to take a toll. If we do this right, no one will know where we are. Just the thought of that is like a breath of fresh air.”

  “I’m all for fresh air and nice walks,” he said. “But I’m also a fan of darting, alert eyes and heads on swivels. Promise me that you’ll take those with you.”

  “I promise,” Jessie said with a confidence she wasn’t sure she felt.

  She really did believe that Hannah needed a chance to get away from the constant stress. Stir craziness was a real thing. But what Sam said was true. They were taking a risk leaving the city and the protection it afforded. She hoped it was worth it.

  CHAPTER SIX

  It took over two hours for traffic to finally subside.

  By the time they were actually able to drive
the speed limit, they were in Redlands, only twenty-two miles from the exit to Wildpines. Ryan was driving. Initially Jessie balked at the idea, worried that he might have mobility issues, as he hadn’t been behind the wheel since last July. But he was insistent and within minutes, seemed completely comfortable. In the backseat, Hannah was immersed in her phone. Jessie spent the entirety of the time focused on the cars around them, watching to see if they were being followed.

  She had Ryan change lanes unexpectedly, speed up and slow down repeatedly, at least as much as they could when going twenty-five miles an hour on a packed freeway. Twice she had him get off at exits without warning, only to get right back on the freeway. In those two hours, she never saw one suspicious vehicle. If the Night Hunter was following them, he wasn’t just an effective serial killer, he should also apply to be a driver for the FBI.

  When they got off the freeway for good in Banning, they headed south on Highway 243 toward the mountains, passing the local high school and a penitentiary that seemed disturbingly close to it. After crossing a small bridge, they immediately began a sharp, winding incline up the barren mountainside.

  It was a two lane road and there was no way for any trailing vehicle to follow them without being noticed. Still, Jessie had Ryan pull into two turnouts to let vehicles behind them pass, then watched to see if they lingered. None did.

  Despite the constant hairpin turns, after only five minutes they were several thousand feet up. In the dusty distance of the desert, Jessie could see a huge tower reaching skyward. She knew it was part of a massive casino complex that had been built in the middle of nowhere. Somewhere well beyond that, at least another twenty miles east, was the desert oasis of Palm Springs, where U.S. Marshals were apparently ready to take her call.

  Before she could think about that too much, they began to cut across the mountains.

  “Thank God,” Hannah muttered from the backseat.