Page 32 of The Perfect Illusion (Jessie Hunt #39)

Jessie checked her gun holster for the third time.

The drive from Victoria Sterling’s Westwood office to the Calloway home in tony Westgate Heights only took seven minutes but Jessie was champing at the bit the whole time.

She’d insisted that they be the ones to go there, as the risk to Amanda Calloway was their top priority.

Brady had ordered a squad car to go to Thompson’s apartment in case she’d gone there instead.

“You don’t think now that Thompson knows we’re close, she maybe went straight home to grab a bag and then bailed?” Brady asked as they pulled onto Calloway’s street.

Jessie shook her head.

“I think that all these other murders were just prelude to the main event,” she said. “She’s been gearing herself up to take out Amanda, the woman who replaced her. And now that she feels the pressure, that’s only going to make her more focused on finishing her mission.”

Brady pulled up in front of the giant plantation-style mansion, which was partially hidden from the street by enormous hedges.

An ornate wrought iron fence protected the property, but the entry gate was slightly ajar.

Across the street, Jessie noticed the black Mercedes that Jamil had told them Rachel Thompson Calloway drove. They were in the right place.

“Let’s get in there,” Jessie said, hopping out of the passenger seat. “And remember, Thompson used to live in this house, so she’ll know it well. Stay alert.”

As they passed through the open gate, Jessie noticed a numbered panel just to the right of it.

Was it really possible that after the divorce, James Calloway didn’t think to change the code?

When they reached the front door, they saw that it was already open too.

Both of them unholstered their weapons. Brady counted to three, then pushed it open.

He stepped inside, and Jessie followed quickly after him.

Three different hallways split off from the grand foyer. The two of them looked at each other. Jessie could see that her partner was as uncertain as she was. Which way should they go? The unspoken question was answered a moment later when a weak, plaintive voice broke the silence.

“Please stop!”

It sounded like it was coming from the central hallway.

They both dashed in that direction. Brady, who was in front of her, was making quite a racket as his heavy footfalls landed on the hardwood floor.

Jessie worried that he might tip off Thompson, but right now, getting to her was more important than being stealthy.

They emerged into a massive living room with vaulted ceilings. At the far end of the room, they saw a young woman in a high-backed leather chair. She was wearing yoga gear and had long brown hair that cascaded over her shoulders down to her elbows. But that wasn’t what caught Jessie’s eye.

The woman was tied to the chair with what looked like bungee cords wrapped around her arms and legs. She was also bleeding—profusely. She was still alive, but apparently only because she'd been stabbed in areas that didn't immediately lead to death.

Blood was seeping through her yoga top on the right side of her waist. Her left upper arm, just below the shoulder, had a deep gash. So did her right thigh. And both cheeks had cuts running from near her ears almost to her mouth. Her eyes were cloudy and unfocused, likely from the loss of blood.

Standing a couple of feet from her, tightly gripping what looked like a hunting knife, was Rachel Thompson.

Only instead of what she'd worn at the Elite Introductions office, she was now dressed all in black.

She was wearing gloves but no mask. Apparently, she wanted Amanda to know who was doing this to her.

She must not have heard them arrive because her back was to them.

But she seemed to sense eyes on her and spun around. She didn't look surprised to see them.

“Took you long enough,” she said. “But you’re too late. This stuck pig has been bleeding out for ten minutes now. I doubt she has that much time left before she fades away. Or I could end things quick for her.”

Next to Jessie, Brady quickly raised his gun and pointed it at Thompson.

“Drop the knife, Rachel!” he ordered.

The woman looked at him and then down at Amanda, whose head was lolling limply. Then she returned her attention to him.

“Why are you pointing that thing at me ?” she demanded. “I’m not the one who turned their back on their vows. I’m not the snake who seduced another man’s husband. Make them pay for their crimes, and then we can talk about me."

The knife in her hand was less than a foot from Amanda’s throat. The younger woman whimpered softly but said nothing.

Jessie raised her weapon too but hoped she wouldn’t have to use it.

She was, at best, an okay shot. She vaguely recalled Ryan telling her that Brady, despite his extra girth and generally unhealthy demeanor, was a ringer on the range.

But with Rachel’s knife so close to Amanda, Jessie didn’t to want to risk testing that.

“We can discuss all that, Rachel,” she said to Thompson in the calmest tone that she could muster under the circumstances. “But in order to do that, we need you to put down the knife. We can talk about consequences for the people who wronged you, but not when you’re holding that.”

“Please!” Thompson shot back scornfully, waving the knife in the air, “I know how it works. This is the only thing stopping you from shooting me. It’s the only thing making you listen. The second I drop it, I lose all my leverage. Isn’t that right?”

"We can't negotiate under threat," Brady told her, managing to sound firm and understanding at the same time. "You have to give us a reason to believe that we can trust you. And under the circumstances, that's a little hard, Rachel."

“Not my problem,” the woman said, the knife now back close to Amanda’s neck. “In fact, maybe I should order you two to drop your guns as a show of good faith to me. That will prove to me that you’re sincere about hearing me out.”

Jessie looked at Amanda, whose head was slumped on her chin. She had stopped whimpering. In fact, she wasn’t moving at all. Was she already dead? If not, she was dangerously close. Something had to give.

“How about this?” she said, raising her gun over her head. “I’ll drop my weapon as that show of good faith you wanted, and you take a step away from Amanda.”

It wasn't much of a concession, considering Jessie's lack of confidence in her own aim and the fact that Brady would still have his gun. But she was trying to keep the lines of communication open, and even a lame concession was better than none at all. Or so she thought.

“Don’t insult me,” Thompson said. “That doesn’t stop your partner there from blowing me away. Besides, I know who you are, Jessie Hunt. I read up on you after I left the office. I’m aware of all your run-ins with serial killers and how you tricked them. That won’t work with me.”

Despite her skepticism that it would do any good, Jessie laid her gun down on the floor. Then she raised her hands above her head.

"If you really read about me, you also know that I've worked hard to keep my promises to the people who surrendered to me.

I've even testified on behalf of some of them in court, describing how the indignities they faced in their lives might have led to their acts of violence.

You would know that I was married once before myself, to a rich wealth management advisor who was secretly having an affair, and who tried to kill me.

I know what it's like to feel betrayed by someone you love.

If anyone can understand what you're going through, Rachel, it's me.

But I can't help you if you won't let me.

So please just take a step away from Amanda, and let's all take a breath. "

Thompson, the knife still gripped tight in her gloved hand, stared back at her, as if probing her, trying to gauge whether she was telling the truth.

Then she did take a deep breath. Jessie tensed up, sensing a decision at hand but unsure what it would be.

When Thompson spoke, her voice was loud and clear.

“Alexa, activate emergency sprinkler system.”

Almost immediately, water began spurting out of sprinklers embedded in the ceiling.

At the same time, Thompson darted to her right.

For a second, Jessie thought Brady might fire at her.

But he must have come to the same conclusion as Jessie: because the woman was moving away from Amanda, she wasn’t an immediate threat.

Amid the spray of water suddenly drenching the room, Jessie saw Thompson continue moving right, scampering behind a half-wall. She was still holding the knife. Jessie reached down, grabbed her weapon, then followed.

"Wait," Brady barked, "Let's deal with Amanda first. Once she's stable, we can go after Thompson."

“You stay with Amanda,” Jessie countered as she moved toward the wall where Rachel Thompson had disappeared. “If Thompson gets away, she could go anywhere or after anyone. We can’t let that happen.”

“Where’s she going to go?” Brady demanded.

“Are you kidding?” Jessie said as she neared the wall. “She lived in this house. That means she knows all the ways out. She could be through a side door and down the block before we know she’s gone. There’s no more time to argue. Help Amanda. Call for backup. I’m going after Thompson.”

“Don’t go!” Brady shouted. “Ryan will kill me!”