CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT
Jessie hung up the phone and returned to the couch.
Ryan had drifted off while she spoke to Susannah, but as she sat down, he startled awake.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “That medication makes me so drowsy. Are there any updates on the situation?”
“Yeah,” she said. “I just got off the phone with Susannah. She’s still at the station, but she wanted to fill me in.”
“Tell me,” Ryan said, sitting up, the cloudiness in his eyes clearing up almost immediately.
“The police car was abandoned less than a mile from the courthouse,” she told him. “A woman had been carjacked nearby. Her body was found in the bushes beside the squad car. The police think that Pierce feigned being an officer to get the woman to stop her car, then shot her and took the car and her ID so the police wouldn’t know who she was or what car she drove.”
“What about Officer Poulter?” Ryan asked.
“She took him with her,” Jessie said. “By the time they identified and located the woman’s vehicle, a 2014 Honda Accord, it had been three hours. It was in an alley behind an apartment complex in Tustin. They think it was one of Pierce’s safe houses. Officer Mike Poulter was found in the apartment bathroom shower, bound and gagged, but alive.”
Thank god for that, at least,” Ryan said, exhaling heavily.
“Yes,” Jessie agreed. “But he was in the minority. Counting him, the bus driver, and the inmate shot in the back, there were three survivors. But Pierce’s rampage left six people dead: two officers, the carjacked motorist, and three inmates, including Mark Haddonfield. And that’s just the people we know about so far.”
Ryan’s expression suggested that he knew not to ask her how she felt about that right now.
“Do they know where Pierce went after that?” he asked instead.
“They do, thanks to Jamil,” Jessie said. “A street camera caught a woman with Pierce’s bone structure and features leaving the complex. She wore a wig and had on sunglasses, but they’re pretty confident it’s her.”
“How can they be so sure?”
“Because a woman matching that same description was seen on CPB cameras at the San Ysidro border crossing between San Diego and Tijuana. She appears to have crossed on foot an hour and a half ago. They identified her on the surveillance footage thirty minutes ago, so she’s probably well south of Tijuana by now, likely headed to another safe house.”
“So she’s in the wind?” Ryan concluded.
“It looks that way,” Jessie confirmed.
“How are Hannah and Kat taking it?” he asked, well aware that those were Pierce’s last targets and that she might have chosen to go after them rather than pursue an escape.
“I’m about to call Hannah back,” Jessie said. “I updated her right after it happened but haven’t had a chance to check back in since. She’ll be happy to hear from me, considering that she’s spent the last six hours under officer supervision at the Irvine Police Department headquarters. Kat will have to wait until tomorrow to find out.”
“Why is that?”
“Because she’s out cold,” Jessie answered. “I didn’t tell you this earlier, but after Pierce escaped, she kind of lost it. She was in a state of shock once she realized that her worst nightmare—the one she’d feared for months—had actually come true. Ash Pierce is a free woman. After Pierce drove out of that garage, she just sort of shut down. I tried to snap her out of it, but she wouldn’t even respond to me.”
“Jeez,” Ryan muttered sympathetically.
“Yeah,” Jessie agreed, “It was really upsetting. But I couldn’t even stay with her because, for a while there I was helping with the manhunt. So I called Dr. Lemmon. She checked them both into a luxury suite in Santa Monica under an assumed name so that Pierce couldn’t track them down if that was her goal. But I got a text from Lemmon about twenty minutes ago. She gave Kat a powerful sedative to calm her. She’s asleep and probably will be until around noon tomorrow.”
Ryan nodded.
“So I guess with Pierce in Mexico, we can relax our home security measures a little too.”
“I’ll tell the patrol car outside that they can go, but I think we’ll keep all the other measures in place for the foreseeable future, if that’s okay with you.”
“Of course, “Ryan said. “It’s not paranoia if they’re really after you.”
Jessie smiled wanly at the attempt to lighten the mood, even a little. She noticed he didn’t smile back.
“What is it?” she asked.
“You didn’t tell me much about how your underground sex club case wrapped up, other than that you caught the guy.”
“There’s not really much to tell,” she lied.
She wasn’t in the mood right now to admit that she’d nearly plunged a letter opener through the brain of the man she was tasked with bringing to justice. But she knew Ryan wouldn’t accept such a vague answer, so before he could push harder, she changed subjects, even if that meant bringing up a sore point.
“I’m sorry about the adoption counselor thing,” she said. “Maybe we can reschedule in a couple of weeks when things settle down a little bit.”
He was quiet.
“What?” she asked, feeling a small knot develop in her stomach.
He shrugged.
“I think we should put the whole adoption idea on hold for now,” he said softly. “And maybe kids in general.”
“Why?”
He paused briefly before replying.
“Our lives are just too crazy.”
She could feel him holding back.
“Is that the only reason?” she pressed.
He sighed.
“To be honest, I’m also worried about your—for lack of a better word—bloodlust. Until you find a way to get it under control, I’m not sure that it’s responsible for us to pursue parenthood. I know I’m the one who said I wanted kids, who relentlessly kept on you about it. But now I’m not so sure.”
“What does that mean?’
“It just means I’m not sure it’s going to happen for us,” he said, before adding firmly, “I am sure that this isn’t the best time to make that decision. Everything’s so volatile right now. Can we just press pause on the discussion?”
“For how long?” Jessie wanted to know.
He looked down at his hands before looking up and meeting her eyes.
“Indefinitely.”