The Perfect House

Unfortunately for Jessie, his skills at deduction also worked against her. The reason she’d wanted to meet with Crutchfield in the first place was because she’d noticed that he’d modeled his murders after those of her father, legendary, never-caught serial killer Xander Thurman. But Thurman committed his crimes in rural Missouri over two decades earlier. It seemed like a random, obscure choice for a Southern California–based killer.

But it turned out that Bolton was a big fan. And once Jessie started by asking him about his interest in those old murders, it didn’t take him long to piece things together and determine that the young woman in front of him was personally connected to Thurman. Eventually he admitted that he knew she was his daughter. And he revealed one more tidbit—he’d met with her dad two years earlier.

With glee in his voice, he’d informed her that her father had entered the facility under the guise of a doctor and managed to have an extended conversation with the prisoner. Apparently he was looking for his daughter, whose name had been changed and who had been put in the Witness Protection Program after he killed her mother. He suspected that she might one day visit Crutchfield because their crimes were so similar. Thurman wanted Crutchfield to let him know if she ever showed up and give him her new name and location.

From that moment on, their relationship had an inequality that made her incredibly uncomfortable. Crutchfield still gave her information about his crimes and hints about others. But they both knew that he held all the cards.

He knew her new name. He knew what she looked like. He knew the city she lived in. At one point she discovered he even knew she’d been living at her friend Lacy’s place and where that was. And apparently, despite being incarcerated in a supposedly secret facility, he had the capability of giving her father all those details.

Jessie was pretty sure that was at least part of the reason that Lacy, an aspiring fashion designer, had taken a six-month gig working in Milan. It was a great opportunity but it was also half a world away from Jessie’s dangerous life.

As Jessie pulled off the freeway, only minutes from reaching NRD, she recalled how Crutchfield had finally pulled the trigger on the unspoken threat that had always hung over their meetings.

Maybe it was because he sensed she was leaving for several months. Maybe it was just out of spite. But the last time she’d looked through the glass into his devious eyes, he’d dropped a bombshell on her.

“I’ll be having a little chat with your father,” he’d told her in his courtly Southern accent. “I won’t spoil things by saying when. But it’s going to be lovely, I’m quite certain.”

She had barely managed to choke out the word “How?”

“Oh, don’t you worry about that, Miss Jessie,” he’d said soothingly. “Just know that when we do talk, I’ll be sure to give him your regards.”

As she pulled onto the hospital property, she asked herself the same question that had been eating at her ever since, the one she could only put out of her head when she was intently focused on other work: had he really done it? While she was off learning how to catch people like him and her dad, had the two of them really met a second time, despite all the security precautions designed to prevent just that sort of thing?

She had a feeling that mystery was about to be solved.

CHAPTER FIVE

Entering the NRD unit was just as she’d remembered. After getting authorization to enter the enclosed hospital campus through a guard gate, she drove behind the main building to a second, smaller, nondescript one in the back.

It was a bland concrete and steel one-story structure in the middle of an unpaved parking lot. Only the roof was visible behind a large, green-meshed barbed-wire metal fence that surrounded the whole place.

She passed through a second guard gate to access NRD. After parking, she walked toward the main entrance, pretending to ignore the multiple security cameras that followed her every step. When she got to the exterior door, she waited to be buzzed in. Unlike the first time she’d come, she was now recognized by the staff and admitted on sight.

But that was only for the outer door. After passing through a small courtyard, she reached the main entrance to the facility, which had thick, bulletproof glass doors. She swiped her entry card, which made the panel light turn green. Then the security officer behind the desk inside, who could see the color change as well, buzzed her in, completing the entry process.

Jessie stood in a small vestibule, waiting for the outer door to close. Experience had taught her that the inner door couldn’t be opened until the outer one shut completely. Once it locked audibly, the security guard unlocked the interior door.

Jessie stepped inside, where a second armed officer stood waiting for her. He collected her personal belongings, which were minimal. She’d learned over time that she was better off leaving almost everything in the car, which was in no danger of being broken into.

The guard patted her down and then motioned for her to go through the airport security-style millimeter wave scanner, which gave a detailed impression of her entire body. After she’d gone through, her items were returned without a word. It was the only indication that she was free to continue on.

“Is Officer Gentry meeting me?” she asked the officer behind the desk.

The woman looked up at her, an expression of complete disinterest on her face. “She’ll be out in a moment. Just wait by the Transitional Prep door.”

Jessie did as she was instructed. Transitional Prep was the room where all visitors went to change before interacting with a patient. Once inside, they were required to change into gray, hospital-style scrubs, remove all jewelry, and wash off any makeup. As she’d been warned, these men didn’t need any additional stimulation.

A moment later, Officer Katherine “Kat” Gentry stepped out the prep door to greet her. She was a sight for sore eyes. Though they hadn’t exactly gotten off on the right foot when they’d first met last summer, now the two women were friends, connected by a shared awareness of the darkness inside some people. Jessie had grown to trust her so much that Kat was one of fewer than a half dozen people in the world who knew she was the daughter of the Ozarks Executioner.

As Kat walked over, Jessie noted once again how much of a hard-ass NRD’s head of security was. Physically imposing despite being an unexceptional five foot seven, her 140-pound body was comprised almost entirely of muscle and steel will. A former Army Ranger who’d served two tours in Afghanistan, she bore the remnants of those days on her face, which was pockmarked from shrapnel burns and had a long scar that started just below her left eye and ran vertically down the side of her cheek. Her gray eyes were measured, thoroughly taking in everything she saw to determine if it was a threat.

She clearly didn’t consider Jessie one. She broke into a grin and gave her a big hug.

“Long time, no see, FBI lady,” she said enthusiastically.

Jessie gasped for breath at the viselike embrace, only speaking once she was released.

“I’m not FBI,” she reminded Kat. “It was just a training program. I’m still affiliated with LAPD.”

“Whatever,” Kat said dismissively. “You were at Quantico, working with the authorities in your field, learning fancy FBI techniques. If I want to call you an FBI lady, that’s what I’ll do.”

“If it means you won’t crack my spine in half, you can call me whatever you want.”

“Speaking of, I don’t think I could do that anymore,” Kat noted. “You seem stronger than before. I’m guessing they didn’t just work out your brain while you were there.”

“Six days a week,” Jessie told her. “Long trail runs, obstacle courses, self-defense, and weapons training. They definitely kicked my butt into halfway decent shape.”

“Should I be worried?” Kat asked with faux concern, stepping back and lifting her arms into a defensive stance.

“I don’t think I’m any threat to you,” Jessie admitted. “But I do feel like I could protect myself around a suspect, which was definitely not the case before. Looking back, I was lucky to have survived a few of my recent encounters.”

“That’s awesome, Jessie,” Kat said. “Maybe we should spar sometime, go a few rounds, just to keep you sharp.”

“If by go a few rounds, you mean a few rounds of shots, I’m in. Otherwise, I may take a little break from the daily running and hitting and such.”

“I take it all back,” Kat said. “You’re still the same wuss you always were.”

“Now that’s the Kat Gentry I’ve come to know and love. I knew there was a reason you were the first person I wanted to see when I got back in town.”

“I’m flattered,” Kat said. “But I think we both know I’m not the person you’re really here to see. Should we stop stalling and head in?”

Jessie nodded and followed Kat into Transitional Prep, where the sterility and silence put an end to the visit’s playful vibe.

*

Fifteen minutes later, Kat led Jessie to the door that connected to the NRD security wing to some of the most dangerous people on the planet. They’d already gone to her office for a debriefing about the last few months, which had been surprisingly uneventful.

Kat informed her that once Crutchfield had threatened an imminent meeting with her father, the already tight security had been increased even more. The facility added additional security cameras and even more identity verification for visitors.

There was no evidence that Xander Thurman had tried to visit Crutchfield. His only guests had been the doctor who came every month to check his vitals, the psychiatrist he almost never spoke to, an LAPD detective who hoped, futilely as it turned out, that Crutchfield would share info on a cold case he was working, and his court-appointed lawyer, who showed up only to make sure he wasn’t being tortured. He barely engaged with any of them.

According to Kat, he hadn’t mentioned Jessie to the staff, not even to Ernie Cortez, the easygoing officer who supervised his weekly showers. It was as if she didn’t exist. She wondered if he was pissed at her.

“I know you remember the drill,” Kat said, as they stood at the security door. “But it’s been a few months so let’s just review the security procedures as a precaution. Don’t approach the prisoner. Don’t touch the glass barrier. I know this one will get thrown out the window, but officially, you’re not supposed to share any personal information. Got it?”

“Yep,” Jessie said, happy for the reminders. It was helpful to get her in the proper frame of mind.

Kat swiped her badge and nodded at the camera over the door. Someone inside buzzed them in. Jessie was immediately overwhelmed by the surprising flurry of activity. Instead of the usual four security guards, there were six. In addition, there were three men in workmen uniforms walking around with various pieces of technical equipment.