id85
Mark Haddonfield knew something was up.
As the guard escorted him down the hallway, both his wrists and ankles manacled, he initially thought that he was going to the Twin Towers Correctional Facility visiting room. But it was 6:35, well after visiting hours. Sure enough, they passed by the darkened room without stopping.
The guard finally had him come to a halt outside a conference room further down the hall. Mark was familiar with it. The room was typically used for inmates who were meeting with lawyers in preparation for a court proceeding. His trial was coming up soon, but he was still surprised. His lawyer hadn’t shown much of a predilection for working extra hours.
He stood at the door for a couple of minutes, waiting quietly and studying himself in the glass window. Even though he’d been in jail for three months now, he didn’t think he looked much different than before. He was still a tall, skinny, twenty-one-year-old former college student with pale skin, curly blond hair, and glasses.
Eventually, a second guard stepped out of the conference room and held the door open for him. He entered slowly. When he saw who was seated at the table, he didn’t know how to react.
Jessie Hunt was staring back at him in all her glory. Her brown hair was tied back in a ponytail. She wore a navy sweater and tan slacks. She looked tired to him, as if she hadn’t gotten any sleep last night. Despite that, she was still as beautiful in real life as she was in his dreams. He found himself both elated to see her and worried for her welfare.
“Ms. Hunt,” he said, unable to hold back a smile, “I can honestly say that I didn’t expect to see you tonight.”
She shrugged at him, clearly not as enthused to be here as he was.
“I’m not as full of surprises as you, but I try,” she said, her voice as weary-sounding as she looked. “Have a seat.”
One of the guards motioned for him to sit in the chair across from her that was bolted to the ground.
“To what do I owe the honor?” he asked.
She sighed heavily, as if not entirely certain that she wanted to answer. Finally, she seemed to almost physically shake off whatever reservations she had. The air of exhaustion enveloping her disappeared, and she stared at him with her eyes focused, her body taut.
“I have a proposition for you,” she told him, leaning forward.
Mark tried to act cool but found it impossible to pull off.
“Color me intrigued,” he said eagerly. “Please go on.”
“I don’t know how much information you have access to in here, but I wanted to share a few updates,” she told him. “Since your manifesto was released a month ago, two people close to me have suffered. My friend Kat Gentry”s fiancé was murdered by a fan of yours who was trying to kill her. And just today, Dr. Janice Lemmon was attacked. Luckily, she survived and is recovering well.”
Mark held up his manacled palms to her. “What can I tell you?” he said. “I’d like to say I’m sorry to hear that, but it would be disingenuous. This is exactly what I was hoping for, after all.”
“I realize that,” she said. “That’s why I’m here. I need for these attacks to stop. I need you to make them stop.”
“Why would I do that?” he asked.
“Because of my proposition,” she told him. ”Here”s my offer, and it”s not open to negotiation.”
“Look at you, all business,” he couldn’t help but tease.
She ignored the comment and pressed ahead.
“You disavow the manifesto, publicly, in a video that will be posted on the internet,” she said. “You tell your followers that your mission has been accomplished and that any further attacks on me or others in my orbit would be in contravention of your wishes. In exchange, I will allow you to work with me on cases.”
Mark waited several seconds to see if she would tell him she was joking. When she didn’t, he replied.
“Wait,” he said, still not sure he’d heard her correctly, “what does that mean exactly?”
“It means that you would finally get what you wanted, Mark: to be my protégé. Obviously, there would be limits. You”re about to go on trial for multiple murders. You will likely spend the rest of your life in prison. And I would still be working a full-time job as a profiler. But I would be willing to periodically come to you with cases, ones where I thought that your skills and insight could be particularly useful.”
“That’s interesting,” he conceded.
“We’re not talking weekly visits here, Mark, especially considering that after you’re convicted, you might be sent to a prison some distance from L.A. But I’d be willing to commit to working with you, say, monthly. That would allow you to make a real difference, even behind bars. You would get the appropriate recognition for your efforts. You could help save lives rather than take them. And who knows, maybe your help could ultimately prove so valuable that you’re moved to a better prison, where you’d get more perks and not have to worry about…accidents.” she said nodding at his hands.
It was reference to the broken middle finger on his left hand and the broken ring finger on his right, both courtesy of his cellmate, Oscar, who didn’t like it when he got too chatty.
“How do I know I can trust you?” he asked. “How can I be sure that once I make the video, you won’t just forget about me?”
“Do I strike you as the kind of person who welches on promises, Mark?” she asked, sounding offended. “If I commit to working with you, then I will hold up my end of the bargain. But you need to do the same thing. If I agree to invest in your potential, and then someone I care about is harmed in any way by one of your followers, then the deal is off for good. So you need to be damn convincing in that video. What do you say?”
She leaned back and folded her arms. He studied her face. She didn’t appear to be lying. Her eyes weren’t darting, and her brow wasn’t furrowed. And why would she lie? It served no purpose for her. If she didn’t follow through, word would get out, destroying her credibility.
“Can I think about it for a second?” he asked.
“Of course,” she said. “Take all the time you need.”
“He has to be back in his cell in five minutes,” the guard by the door noted.
“Okay, then take about three minutes,” she said, correcting herself.
Mark could hear the voice whispering off to the side. He tried not to look in that direction. He didn’t want to give away his advisor’s presence.
You can’t trust her, his Jessie said, her lips brushing his ear gently. She’ll use you and betray you. Just like she betrayed you before, when she wouldn’t let you in her class, when she stopped teaching at the university without warning. She can’t be trusted.
He was usually inclined to follow her advice. This version of Jessie had been with him for months, guiding him, warning him about the dangers he faced as he pursued his mission of vengeance. She”d been with him as he planned his murders, and she had stayed by his side in his cell.
But now he couldn’t help but question her motives. Was she jealous of Jessie Hunt, sitting across from him, finally willing to bury the hatchet? Did she fear that she would be replaced? Was she truly looking out for him, or was she more concerned with her own well-being?”
You know that’s not it, she hissed quietly. My interests are your interests, always. We”re one and the same.
Mark wanted to reply out loud, but he knew that Jessie Hunt and the guards in the room would find that odd. Jessie Hunt had already caught him talking to his Jessie once and asked about his “imaginary friend.” He couldn’t have that again. So he simply responded though thoughts. His Jessie would hear them, after all.
Jessie Hunt has to know that if she violates this agreement, if she betrays me, then I will sic my rabid dogs on her again. This is a sincere offer. You know it is. I’ll say on alert, just as you will. But I have to take it.
His Jessie, still hovering next to him, didn’t respond. Mark knew she wasn’t happy. But she would come to accept this.
“We have a deal,” he said.
“Wonderful,” Jessie said from across the table. “I’ll coordinate the video shoot with the warden and the prosecutor’s office. If everything moves quickly, you and I will be working together very soon.”
She stood up, grabbed her coat, and headed for the door. Just before leaving, she turned back. ”I think this is the beginning of, well maybe not a beautiful friendship, but at the very least, a productive relationship.”
Mark got the feeling that she was paraphrasing something, perhaps a movie or a book, but he didn”t get the reference. It didn”t matter anyway. He could always ask her about it the next time he saw her as they laid the groundwork to team up and start solving cases. He felt positively giddy as the guard instructed him to stand up, leave the room, and shuffle back toward the cells.
As he made his way down the hallway, he saw the other guard at the end of the hall, muttering to someone on his cell phone. Mark couldn’t totally make out what he was saying, but as he got closer, he did hear the words “leaving now…. outside in five… dark blue sweater.”
Mark stared at the man, whose quiet tone and furtive demeanor suggested he was up to no good.
“Who are you talking to?” he demanded. “What’s that about?”
The guard looked at him as he hung up and put the phone in his pocket. Then, without warning, he punched Mark in the gut. He dropped to his knees, coughing, gasping for breath.
“None of your business,” the guard growled, before turning to the other guard. “Drag him back if you have to.”
As the other guard ripped him to his feet and yanked him down the hall, Mark wasn’t concerned for his own welfare. All he could think was one thing: Jessie Hunt was in danger and there was nothing he could do about it.