Page 2 of The Perfect Deception (Jessie Hunt #40)

Five Weeks Ago

Hannah Dorsey woke up with a start.

Her head was resting on a table and her cheek was soaked in a puddle of drool. It took her a moment to process where she was. But then it all came flooding back.

She was in the UC Irvine Medical Center cafeteria, where she’d spent many of her waking hours of late. That’s because this was where Finn Anderton was, unconscious in a hospital bed two floors above where she now sat.

Finn, who attended UC Irvine as a freshman with Hannah and was her friend and almost something more, had been stabbed multiple times in a campus parking lot nearly three weeks ago.

The doctors said that if he hadn’t been discovered by another student walking by who was training to be an EMT, he never would have made it to the hospital alive.

But alive was one thing. Conscious was something else entirely.

And in the three weeks that he’d been here, he’d never even stirred.

Hannah couldn’t get any answers on what Finn’s prognosis was, partly because she wasn’t officially family, but mostly because the doctors didn’t seem to have any definitive answers.

But Hannah kept coming. Nearly every evening after class, she’d visit the hospital. Finn’s family, who lived in nearby Newport Beach, was initially thrown by the constant presence of the young woman who was not his girlfriend, though he had clearly wished that she would eventually be.

It was only after a nurse told them that she was the sister of celebrated LAPD criminal profiler Jessie Hunt, who had offered the resources of her the department to catch Finn’s attacker, that they relented and let her sit in his room from time to time.

The investigation into Finn’s attack was being handled by the Irvine Police Department. But since the perpetrator had not been found, Jessie had pulled some strings to make sure there was an armed hospital guard outside Finn’s room at all times.

Jessie had also hired someone from a personal security firm she’d used in the past to keep an eye on Hannah.

There were no witnesses to Finn’s stabbing and no surveillance cameras in the campus parking lot where it had happened.

As a result, there was concern that the killer might return to finish the job before Finn potentially woke up and identified them.

And there was no telling who they might hurt to get to him again.

That’s where Gila Jabarin came in. The woman was a former Israeli Special Forces soldier who used to be in that country’s elite counter-terrorism Oketz Unit before moving on to their special forces “Red Unit.” She’d protected Hannah in the past and was assigned to do so again.

By and large, she kept her distance, observing from afar and only getting close when there were crowds around or when Hannah was in tight quarters.

Right now, the petite thirty-something woman with olive skin, black hair, and a compact, muscular frame was seated at a table across the cafeteria, her dark eyes alert as she pretended to pick at a salad.

Hannah appreciated her sister’s efforts, especially since she had coordinated the protection while dealing with some serious personal issues of her own.

But no amount of security at the hospital, and no offers of assistance from the LAPD to help with the case did anything to mitigate Hannah’s guilt.

She sat up at the cafeteria table, grabbed a napkin, and wiped the saliva from her cheek.

Glancing at the time, she saw that it was 7:57 P.M. The security guard switchover would take place at eight, and she liked to be there when it happened, to ensure that no one with ill intent slipped by during the transition.

She picked up her tray and walked it over to the conveyer belt that took them out of sight, like unclaimed luggage at a baggage claim carousel. As she made her way down the hall to the elevators, her last conversation with Finn popped into her head.

It had been more of an argument than a conversation. He was talking smack about the guy she’d been hanging out with, a sophomore named Dallas Henry. Hannah had called him out, reminding him that her romantic life was no longer his business and basically accusing him of stalking her.

It was kind of true. When things had fizzled between them, Finn got increasingly obsessive, showing up near her classes when he had none nearby, and fixating on Dallas as being unworthy of her attention.

But in retrospect, she’d been far harsher on him than he deserved. She still remembered how, after ripping into him on campus one day, she’d turned and walked off, never even bothering to look back. Finn was stabbed later that same night.

Hannah stepped into the elevator, suspiciously eyeing the orderly who gave her a friendly smile as she focused on her thoughts.

The doors were about to close when Jabarin slid her hand in to block it.

Without making eye contact with Hannah, she moved into the corner of the elevator, where she stood behind both her and the orderly.

Hannah caught sight of herself in the elevator mirror and wasn’t excited about what stared back at her.

She appeared haggard from lack of sleep.

Her blonde hair was bedraggled and there were dark circles under her green eyes.

She realized that hunched over as she was, she looked closer to 5’5” than her actual 5’9” height.

When the elevator doors opened on the third floor, Hannah stepped out. She glanced over her shoulder to see if the orderly would too but he stayed where he was. At the last moment, Jabarin exited too but stayed well back of Hannah as she started down the hallway.

Once she ensured that the guard handover went smoothly, Hannah planned to return to campus.

Finals started next week, and her grades—all A's until recently—had suffered dramatically in the weeks since this happened.

She needed to dig into her studies, if for no other reason than to take her mind off this situation.

She rounded the corner to the hall where Finn’s room was and immediately noted that something was off.

There was a security guard outside the room but he wasn’t seated as usual.

In fact, he was turned away from her and he looked be fiddling with his backpack.

This guard, a forty-something black man named Tony, knew better than to turn his back to the hall, exposing himself and his protectee to risk.

Equally troubling, his replacement wasn’t here.

It was exactly 8 P.M. now and the night guard typically arrived about five minutes before the shift change to discuss anything new he needed to be aware of.

If the guy was actually late, Hannah was going to have a word with the higher-ups.

She increased her pace as she got closer.

Tony seemed to sense someone approaching and turned around.

“What’s the deal?” she demanded, not feeling the need to call the guy out when he knew what she was referring to.

“Hey Hannah.” He was pulling a granola bar out of the backpack. “It’s over.”

She stopped in her tracks, feeling the blood in her veins turn suddenly cold.

“What’s over?”

Her expression must have made him realize what she was assuming.

“No, not that,” he said quickly. “He still alive.”

Hannah, only now recognizing that she’d stopped breathing, inhaled deeply.

“What then?”

“His family had him moved,” Tony explained. “They apparently want him somewhere more comfortable so they’re transporting him to a hospice.”

“No one said anything to me.” She couldn’t hide the hurt in her voice. “And I haven’t seen anything that suggests he needs a hospice. That’s end of life care.”

“Sweetheart, they aren’t really obligated to tell you anything.

” His tone was apologetically chiding. “But if it makes you feel any better, I didn’t know it was happening either until they arrived.

The turnaround was real quick. The parents weren’t even here for it.

Maybe he took a turn for the worse and they wanted to keep that private. ”

The reference to Finn’s parents not being her for the transfer made Hannah immediately suspicious. “Who was it then?”

“U.S. Marshals Service.”

“You checked their IDs?”

Tony, a mild mannered guy, couldn’t help but scowl at that. “You don’t think I know my job, Hannah? I got ID. I confirmed their status with the local Marshals office. It was all by the book.”

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. It's just—I couldn't have been gone more than half an hour. That seems awfully fast to authorize the removal of an unconscious stabbing victim and whisk him out of here."

“They were in and out real quick,” he conceded. “No wasted time.”

“Does that seem weird to you?” Hannah didn’t want to say it out loud but she definitely found it strange that Finn had been taken away during the exact window of time that she wasn’t around.

“Everything was in order,” Tony assured her.

“Everything okay?”

Hannah turned around to find that Gila had silently made her way over to them.

“Tony here says U.S. Marshals took Finn. Did you know anything about this?”

“You’re my protectee,” Gila told her, “Not him.”

Hannah returned her attention to Tony. “Did you get the names of these marshals? Did they say exactly where they were taking them? The name of the hospice?”

“They didn’t say where.” Tony shook his head. “I got the name of the guy in charge, who claimed the secrecy was a HIPAA thing, which is legit. Plus, I think their view is that the fewer people who know where he’s going, the safer he is.”

Hannah didn’t point out that Finn might not be safe from the very people who were moving him if they intended him harm.

But she knew how wild that would sound. Besides, Tony was good at his job.

He wouldn’t have just handed off the person he was charged with protecting without making sure everything was above board.

“Can I get the name of the Marshal in charge?”

“Of course, but I don’t think he’s going to be any more forthcoming with you than he were with me.”

“We’ll see.”

Hannah didn’t say it but she didn’t need anyone to be forthcoming. If they held out on her, she had other ways of getting to the truth. She’d find out where Finn Anderton was, no matter who tried to stop her