The Perfect Show (A Jessie Hunt Psychological Suspense Thriller—Book Thirty-Three)

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Jessie got almost no sleep.

It wasn’t a surprise, but it was a disappointment. With enough coffee and adrenaline, the dull cloud hovering around her brain would eventually go away for a while, but right now she was struggling.

As she sat in the passenger seat of the car at 7:38 a.m., sipping her coffee while Ryan drove them into the station, she tried to get her bearings. Her husband knew better than to chat her up right now, so they made the trip in silence. Of course, exhaustion wasn’t the only reason she wasn’t feeling especially chatty toward her husband.

Though she didn’t say it, Jessie was feeling a little residual resentment from last night. When she came out of the bathroom and slid under the covers beside him, she found him watching some show with videos of cute babies doing silly things.

It was almost certainly innocuous, and Ryan seemed to only be half-watching as his eyes opened and closed lazily. But some small part of her couldn’t help but wonder if putting on the show in the first place was his passive-aggressive way of reminding her that they hadn’t addressed the prospect of having children in a while.

She knew that she wasn’t being fair. He could have simply turned on the TV and been staring thoughtlessly at the screen. He never laughed at what he saw. He never made mention of it, simply turning the TV off when she joined him. But she was annoyed, nonetheless. She’d brooded over it until she finally drifted off into fitful, unsatisfying sleep.

But as she sat in the car’s passenger seat this morning, recalling that moment, her annoyance gave way to guilt. After all, she had yet to tell him that recent testing revealed that despite her miscarriage and multiple injuries, she could conceive. She”d gotten that information almost two weeks ago, and yet she hadn”t mentioned a word to him. That wasn”t exactly a sign of being a communicative partner.

Literally shaking her head at the thought, she tried to get out of her mental rut by shifting her focus. It occurred to her that she hadn’t checked in with either Hannah or Kat yet today and decided it was time to do so, before the morning got away from her. She tried Kat’s number.

“Hey,” her friend answered after the second ring, “checking to make sure I’m still here?”

“That’s not as funny as you think it is,” Jessie chided gently.

“Sorry,” Kat replied. “You’re sister’s out getting us some coffee so my brain isn’t yet able to filter out the inappropriate jokes.”

Jessie sighed.

“I appreciate the gallows humor,” Jessie told her, “but it’s less effective when I’m not there to see the smirk on your face.”

“But haven’t you already checked in with our favorite babysitter to see how close to the edge I am?” Kat asked, referencing Hannah.

Now Jessie did allow herself a little laugh.

“Not yet today,” she said. “But don’t worry—I’ll confer with your minder soon enough. Do you want to give me your version of things?”

”Not much to tell,” Kat replied unconvincingly, ”Just trying to get through each day, hoping the next one is better than the last. So far, it hasn”t worked out great.”

Jessie heard a voice in the background and knew that Hannah had returned.

“Your sister’s back,” Kat told her, “and I have to run to the bathroom. Should I hand off the phone to her?”

“Sure,” Jessie said, deciding not to press her friend for more information she clearly wasn’t ready to share right now.

“Thanks for checking in, Jessie,” Kat said earnestly, before adding, “I’d ask how you’re doing but I really have to pee. Talk later?”

“Sounds good.”

A moment later, Hannah was on the phone.

“How’s it going, big sis?” she asked.

“Getting by,” Jessie answered. “Working a new case. Heading into the station to see what broke overnight.”

“The poison murders?” Hannah asked knowingly.

“You heard about them?” Jessie said, slightly surprised.

“Just what I saw online and on the local news,” Hannah said. “Multiple bodies found at different westside locations. A hazmat team called in. Victims’ names being kept under wraps for now. Your police peeps are being very tight-lipped on this one. Care to share more than that?”

“I don’t actually know a ton more than that at this point,” Jessie conceded. “We only got the case yesterday evening. We’ll see how today goes. How are things with you guys? Kat wasn’t hugely forthcoming.”

There was a slight delay before Hannah replied.

“Sorry,” she said, “just needed a moment to step outside onto the balcony. Kat may be in the bathroom but that doesn’t mean she can’t hear me.”

“You have things to share that you don’t want her to hear?” Jessie asked.

“I don’t need her having something else to fixate on,” Hannah said. “If she hears me whispering to you, it’ll just set her off.”

“You know that she’s aware that you’re keeping me apprised of what’s going on with her, right?”

“Of course,” Hannah said. “But it’s one thing to know it. It’s another to hear quiet murmuring and know it’s about you.”

“Fair enough,” Jessie conceded. “So what can you tell me?”

“Well, I’m going to keep it quick because it’s freezing out on this balcony and I left my coffee inside. But the short version is: I’m worried, Jessie. Kat is totally obsessed with Ash Pierce.”

“Still?” Jessie asked.

”She may have accepted that it was Mark Haddonfield”s manifesto which led to Mitch getting shot, not some secret order from Pierce. But she”s still fixated on the idea that Pierce is faking her amnesia, and she”s intent on proving it. For the record, I”m not sure she”s wrong.”

“Me either,” Jessie said. “But I think we’d both agree that it’s not the best outlet for her—to be consumed with investigating the woman who tried to torture and murder her. It doesn’t feel like the most healthy use of her time. Has she mentioned any of this to Dr. Lemmon?”

“She said that she didn’t,” Hannah told her. “Apparently she’s more comfortable confiding in me than a mental health professional, which seems…not great.”

“I’m sorry that burden has been put on you, Hannah,” Jessie said. “Hopefully I can share it soon. I was hoping to come by tonight or maybe tomorrow, depending on how this case goes.”

”I appreciate that, but I”m good for now,” her sister said. ”I may actually have an idea about how to help her out a bit. You stay focused on your case. But remember, when I start up with school again, this will all be on you.”

“You want to tell me about your helping hand idea?” Jessie asked, trying to hide her apprehension. Sometimes when Hannah decided to help, she ended up putting herself in harm’s way.

“Not just yet,” Hannah said cryptically. “I’ll let you know if it amounts to anything.”

Jessie fought back the intense desire to push the issue. Her sister had gone her entire first semester of college without incident. Despite her checkered decision-making history, she deserved the benefit of the doubt.

“How are you doing?” Jessie finally asked. “I know this has been a lot for you.”

”I”m tired,” Hannah admitted, ”but I feel like being here for Kat has made a difference, so it”s a small price to pay. Eventually, I”ll be back on campus. I can tough it out until then.

“Well, in case I haven’t said it, I really appreciate you doing this.”

“You have said it,” Hannah reminded her, “but it’s always nice to hear it.”

As she said that, Jessie’s phone buzzed, indicating that Jamil was calling on the other line.

“I’m sorry, sis, but I’ve got to go,” she said.

“That’s okay,” Hannah replied. “So do I. Kat just came out of the bathroom and she’s eyeballing me suspiciously.”

“I love you, little sister,” Jessie said.

“Right back at you,” Hannah told her.

Jessie switched lines and put the call on speaker.

“You’ve got me and Ryan, Jamil,” she said. “How’s it going?”

“Good morning, Ms. Hunt,” Jamil said, as formal as ever. “We have some updates we thought you might find useful.”

“Go for it,” Ryan said from the driver’s seat.

“First of all, we wanted to update you on the connections between Clarissa Langley’s marketing firm and Naomi Hackett’s tech startup. There was definitely regular interaction between the two. It appears that they even met once at Hackett’s Pacific Palisades home. But we can’t find any evidence that either woman had a professional connection to Tabitha Reynolds. That trail just dries up.”

“I feel like you’re holding something back,” Jessie said expectantly.

“He is,” Beth chimed in. “While that lead may not have panned out, we did find others that could. At various points over the last six months, each woman employed the services of both the same personal trainer and the same private tutor for their children. We have receipts and online calendar appointments that show that both of those providers were in all their homes at least once.”

“That’s promising,” Ryan said. “Who are we talking about?”

“The personal trainer in Landon Powers,” Jamil said. “Thirty-eight. Specializes in in-home sessions for extremely wealthy clients. But he’s also affiliated with a fancy health club in Santa Monica. We did some online sleuthing and found that he’s working from there this morning. If his interactive calendar is to be believed, he’s in the middle of a training session right now and has other ones booked up through ten.”

“And the tutor?” Jessie asked.

“Her name is Danielle Robertson, twenty-six,” Beth said. “She’s working toward getting her teaching credential, but for now, she does in-home tutoring. Just like Powers, her clients are mostly uber-wealthy. From her website, it looks like she focuses on elementary-school-aged kids. Her website calendar isn’t as transparent as the trainer’s. It just shows blocks of time when she’s available or unavailable. No locations listed of course, considering that she works with children.”

“So there’s no way to know where she is now?” Ryan asked.

“Not based on the calendar,” Beth conceded. “But considering that most tutoring takes place in the afternoon or evening when kids are out of school, it’s possible that she’s at home. Her address is in Westchester. Should we send it to you, or would you rather reach out directly?”

“Maybe send it,” Jessie suggested. “I’d rather not call either of these people ahead of time. I don’t want to give them a heads up. I’m thinking we go visit Landon Powers right now, since we know where he is. Depending on how that goes, we can make an impromptu stop by Danielle Robertson’s place. Thoughts?”

“Sounds good to me,” Ryan agreed. “Personally, I’d rather chat with this trainer at the gym anyway. If he’s our guy, he’s probably less likely to do something foolish if he’s around a lot of other people, including a client.”

“Ok then, let’s go pump some iron.” Jessie said. When her crack got total silence in response, she felt obligated to defend herself. “I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.”

She silently hoped that her sleep deprivation wouldn’t impact them at their next stop. After all, they were about to visit a murder suspect. She needed to be sharp.