CHAPTER THIRTY
The house wasn’t empty.
Holly Martens had been waiting there for hours.
She knew it was a risk to go back to the scene of her first murder. And it might be a waste of time. Jason had been held at the police station all day and she didn’t know if he was even going to be let out or held overnight.
But once the crime scene people left, she felt that she had to take a chance.
After all, she wasn’t sure how much longer she’d be able to move about freely.
If Jason had been honest with the police, always a questionable assumption when it came to him, they might already have her name and be looking for her.
So, what better place to hide than the scene of her first kill, where she intended to commit her final one?
It was a long time coming and it would be well-deserved.
When she first met Jason Mannix three months ago, it was like a fairy tale.
She’d just been released from the halfway house she’d been living at following a six-week stay in a psychiatric hospital.
After that harrowing stretch, one that involved what the staff called self-harm and fixating behavior including some cutting, along with chopping off her normally long brown locks, she’d finally gotten the all clear to live on her own again.
She found a tiny studio apartment in Santa Barbara, where she’d been attending college before the breakdown. She got a job as a server at a popular brunch spot. And then, on a sunny May morning, she’d met Jason.
He was seated at one of her tables and was eating alone.
The man looked like a model, with his perfect face and warm smile.
He said he was in town for business and that this was his favorite breakfast spot, even more so now that she was working there.
He’d said it casually, not in a skeevy come-on way. And she’d melted.
He eventually said he had to go to a work meeting but wanted to know if she’d like to meet up for a drink that evening. She’d immediately agreed. That afternoon, she spent way too much time picking out the right outfit, ultimately settling on a body-hugging mini dress that accentuated her curves.
He was there waiting when she showed up that night. When she sat down, he handed her the flowers he’d picked up. They were yellow roses, which she’d offhandedly mentioned were her favorite that morning.
One thing led to another and they ended up spending that night at her place. He had to leave town the next day, but they made plans to get together again when he returned.
That return came three weeks later. She’d been a little apprehensive that he’d just want to hook up.
But that wasn’t the case at all. They caught an afternoon movie and went to a nice restaurant for dinner.
He took her to her apartment and was actually in the middle of saying that maybe they shouldn’t do anything that night when she basically attacked him, dragging him inside and ripping off his clothes.
It was like that for another month and a half. He visited three times over the course of the summer, each stopover lasting no more than a couple of days, but always memorable. But then, a month ago, he cancelled his next visit, saying only that a work thing had come up.
When he returned again a week and a half ago, she knew something was wrong. Instead of going to eat or to some kind of show, he took her to a busy park. That’s when he dropped the bomb.
“We’ve had an amazing time,” he told her. “But it can’t continue.”
“Why not?” she had demanded. “What did I do wrong?”
“Nothing,” he insisted. “It has nothing to do with you. My firm is removing Santa Barbara from my circuit. When they told me that, I had to think long and hard. We’ve been having a lot of fun, but I’m almost a decade older than you and we’re in very different places in our lives.
Hanging out and having fun while I’m in town is one thing.
But making special trips to continue casually seeing you, when you deserve someone who can fully commit? That doesn’t feel right.”
“Why can’t you fully commit to me?” she asked, trying to keep it together. Now she understood why he’d brought her to a public park. It was harder for her to lose it with so many people around.
“I just know myself,” he’d said. “I’m good for fun but as a long-term relationship partner, I’m terrible. So rather than string you along, I’ve decided to be honest and make a clean break before we get too emotionally involved.”
“But I’m already emotionally involved!”
“I’m so sorry, Holly.”
She did her best to keep it together, though there were tears. Somehow, she made it through, even agreeing to the condescending hug he’d offered when he was ready to leave. It was only as she sat on the park bench and watched him walk away that she allowed herself to fully weep.
But that’s not all she did. Once she wiped the tears away, she decided she wasn’t going to be a passive participant in her own life any longer.
So, she followed him back to his hotel. When he left his room, she snuck in and rifled through his trash, finding balled-up paperwork and several receipts that told her who he worked for.
She went downstairs just in time to see him check out. In a moment of boldness unusual for her, she decided she wasn’t just going to let him go without a fight. So, she got in her car and followed him all the way back to L.A. and his house—the one she was currently in.
What she discovered when she got here was a shock she couldn’t have anticipated. As he got out of his car, a woman opened the front door and greeted him with a kiss before they both went inside. Holly sat in her car, dazed. She felt as if she’d been punched in the face.
She thought that her whole world had fallen apart when Jason dumped her. But this was so much worse. He’d had her believing that they couldn’t be together because of his unsuitability as a life partner. But the truth was that he already had one. Jason Mannix was a liar and a cheat.
But she’d only discovered the tip of the iceberg. Over the next week, as she followed him around the state, staying in the same hotels as him and ignoring calls from the restaurant that she’d be fired if she didn’t return, she uncovered the magnitude of his deception.
The woman in Los Angeles, whose name was Lauren, was one of four wives Jason had up and down the state. None of them seemed to have any clue about the others. All of them seemed blissfully unaware of the lies that were their lives.
And none of them seemed to understand the most important thing: that despite his manipulations and deceptions, Jason Mannix was hers. He just didn’t know it yet. He’d need to be taught.
So, she’d done the only logical thing one could expect at that point.
She eliminated the competition. It required some doing.
She tracked his wives, noting where they hid their extra house keys and using the zoom feature on the video camera that she’d purchased to check the keypad entry codes to their homes.
Within days, she knew how to get into each woman’s place. It was just a matter of timing now.
All that was left was for her to sneak into Jason’s firm’s downtown L.A.
offices, pretending to be a temp in the secretarial pool.
Then she’d hidden in the women’s restroom until the end of the day.
Once everyone was gone, she went into Jason’s office, accessed the travel calendar on his desktop, and took photos of it on her phone.
Once she knew where he’d be on which days, it was easy.
She’d simply walked into Lauren Mitchell’s Windsor Square home using the key hidden under the flowerpot by the door.
Unlike now, when she was dressed normally, she’d worn all black that night, including a ski mask to hide her identity in case something went wrong.
But nothing did. First, she used the taser that she kept for personal protection.
Then, with Lauren incapacitated, she moved on to the carving knife she’d bought at the home goods store that afternoon.
She wouldn’t say that killing Lauren was fun.
It was more of an unfortunate necessity.
The same was true with Sarah Winters in San Diego and Nicole Thorington in Santa Cruz.
They were the competition and had to be removed from the equation.
The police officer with Nicole was collateral damage, but he knew the risks of the job when he signed up.
Holly would have tried to get to Allyson Rhodes, her last remaining romantic obstacle, if she could have.
But once she saw that Nicole had police protection, however inadequate, she knew that Rhodes would too.
So, she had to make a command decision. Try to access the sole remaining wife despite the security around her or come back to L.A.
The latter made more sense, primarily because that’s where Jason was.
So, she made the long drive back south. But something changed along the way.
Somewhere around San Luis Obispo, she had an epiphany.
She no longer wanted Jason for herself. Even if it was somehow still possible—which it clearly wasn’t—he didn’t deserve her.
Suddenly a whole new world opened up to her. She didn’t have to try to convince Jason that they should be together now that there were no more wifely impediments. All she had to do was make him pay.
That’s why she was currently waiting in his darkened living room, sitting on a couch not far from where she’d cut Lauren Mitchell’s throat. In one hand, she had her taser. In the other, she had her carving knife.
Time seemed to stand still while she waited for his potential return. And then, as the sun was beginning to set, she heard the sound of tires as a car pulled into the driveway. Headlights flashed through the window glass. She heard the car turn off, followed by the sound of footsteps on the path.
She stood up and waited for her destiny to be fulfilled.