The Perfect Facade (A Jessie Hunt Psychological Suspense Thriller—Book Twelve)

by Blake Pierce

  “With these rights in mind,” Karen concluded, “do you wish to speak to us now?”

  Breanne looked back and forth between them in the silent kitchen. Leif’s soothing whispers could be heard over the baby monitor. Lily’s cries had turned into coos with occasional whimpers. Jessie couldn’t tell if they’d convinced Breanne and made one last attempt.

  “You deserve to tell your version of what happened,” she pleaded. “We want to help but right now, all we have are other people’s stories. And those make you into a monster.”

  “I’m not a monster,” Breanne said suddenly and for a second it seemed she’d stop there. But she didn’t. “I’m just a person who was pushed too far, you know?”

  Jessie nodded sympathetically.

  “So, since you’re willing to talk to us,” she said with emphasis, “tell us who pushed you too far.”

  That was all the nudge Breanne needed.

  “Can you imagine what it’s like to spend every day taking care of two little kids, one a toddler who wakes up three or four times a night, make all their meals, and take them to endless parks and playdates, while your friends hand off those tasks to their nannies?”

  “You can’t do that too?” Karen asked.

  “No, not since a year ago, when I found that Leif lost a bunch of his biggest clients because he was more interested in hanging out at casinos than at work. We got overextended, piling up credit card debt. So I let our nanny go, and our gardener too. We stopped making home repairs. I dropped my gym membership and worked out at home, because I still had to try to stay in shape to hold my husband’s interest.”

  “But he didn’t make the same sacrifices,” Jessie said, delicately prodding her for more, while carefully hiding her disdain at this woman’s perception of the rough life.

  “No. He did start going to Gamblers Anonymous meetings all the time, which is fine. It left me with even more of the burden but I was okay with it because at least it was a step in the right direction. But then I found the bill.”

  “What bill?” Karen asked.

  “He had taken out another credit card, one I didn’t know about. And there were dozens of hotel charges on it. I wanted to confront him but I knew he wouldn’t be honest. So one day I followed him to work. I sat in my car in the parking lot all morning until he left at lunchtime. He drove to the Highpoint Hotel in Laguna Beach. I saw him meet a woman in the bar. Her back was to me so I didn’t recognize her. But then they got up and he went to the check-in while she waited in the lobby. When she finally turned around, I saw that it was Claudia. I just couldn’t believe it.”

  She trailed off, as if reliving the painful moment of realization all over again.

  “What happened next?” Jessie gently prompted.

  “They took the elevator to the sixteenth floor,” she continued. “I got the next elevator and went up too. But by the time I got there, the hall was empty. So I spent the next twenty minutes sneaking from room to room, pressing my ear against each door. I went to nine rooms before I found the right one. I knew it was them because I recognized Leif’s voice. He was…was making sounds that I knew well.”

  “What did you do?” Karen asked.

  “I left,” Breanne said simply. “I had to pick up Lily from daycare, which we’d cut back to half days because of the cost. Then I had to get Rory from school. Finding out that my husband was cheating with my friend didn’t suddenly mean my kids didn’t need afternoon snacks. I continued with my day, and every one after that.”

  “You didn’t say anything?” Jessie wanted to know.

  Breanne shook her head. She seemed to be shaking slightly.

  “I wanted to. I was going to that night. But then I thought, what am going to do after that—threaten to leave him? Even with all the debt, he was our only source of income. We were college sweethearts and I didn’t finish school. He proposed during my junior year and I dropped out that summer to plan the wedding. I’ve never had a real job in my life. I don’t have any marketable skills. I have two little kids. My whole world is tied up in this community, where having the right clothes and landscaper and tutor defines your worth. I wasn’t ready to abandon all that. So I convinced myself that it was a passing thing; that he’d get it out of his system and move on.”

  “But he didn’t,” Jessie said.

  “Not even close. I should have known better. After all, I first found out about them in late summer and some of the hotel bills went back to the spring. That wasn’t just a little fling. It got harder and harder to pretend. I felt worthless around him and like an idiot around her. She was so good at acting like everything was normal. Our boys hung out all the time. Joey Jr. spent the night here for Rory’s birthday just a month ago. And then there was the last straw, the thing I should I have realized much earlier but was too blind to see.”

  “What was that?” Karen asked.

  “He said he couldn’t meet for Rory’s parent-teacher conference because he was feeling the old urge to gamble and had to go to a meeting. So I went on my own. But when I got home I started thinking about all the other times he said he’d been at meetings. I checked and realized that a bunch of them matched up to the dates and times of his hotel trysts. He was using Gamblers Anonymous as a front for his affair, knowing that I wouldn’t press him on being gone so much because it was a sensitive issue. I was so dumb that it never even occurred to me that he would use his old addiction to cover for a new one. And now, meeting her was apparently more important than his own child.”

  “When did you learn this?” Jessie wanted to know.

  “The teacher conference was last Thursday.”

  “The day before you were supposed to go to Hollywood for Claudia’s big blowout,” Karen noted.

  Breanne nodded.

  “I went home, put it all together, and everything just fell into place from there. Leif and Rory would be out of town. Lily would be at my mom’s. I could say I was sick to avoid going to the birthday. Then I would be free to do what I needed to do without anyone catching on.”

  “That’s when you got the idea to kill Claudia?” Jessie reiterated.

  “No. I’d thought of killing her dozens of times. That was when I decided to go through with it.”

  “What?” asked a deep, hoarse voice from behind them.

  They all looked around to find Leif Stoller standing in the doorway with his mouth open.

  CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE

  The room was silent.

  Jessie noticed Karen casually undo the cover of her gun holster as a precautionary measure, and tried to think of something to say to tamp down the situation. But before she could utter a word, Breanne replied.

  “I was just telling these nice ladies how I killed your whore.”

  Her words were full of curdled malice. For the first time, Jessie could imagine this person smashing that clock into Claudia’s skull.

  “You what?” he repeated, still not seeming to process the nature of the situation.

  Breanne smiled.

  “While you were sharing a hotel room with your son,” she said with spite, “I was in another hotel room, bashing in the head of your mistress.”

  “How could you—?” he began but she cut him off.

  “It was easy, Leif. There was this heavy clock on the mantel. Everyone was passed out. I tiptoed past them all into the bedroom where the skank was sleeping. I stood over her for a moment. I wasn’t sure if I could do it. But then she rolled over and I had no choice. So I brought it down on her. And just before I crushed her skull, I thought I saw a flicker of recognition in her eyes. Maybe it was my imagination, but I think she knew what was happening and why.”

  “Breanne,” he said but couldn’t seem to think of anything else to add.

  “The best part,” she continued, “other than the crunching sound her bones made, was the next afternoon. You came home talking about her death being on the news and you hugged me. You squeezed me so tight, not having any idea that it was me who snuffed the life ou
t of your precious Cloudy.”

  Leif seemed to be transitioning from a state of shock to something more like anger. Jessie watched his breathing get faster and shallower as his face turned red and his jaw clenched. Karen must have seen it too because she eased her weapon out of the holster.

  “You need to calm down, Mr. Stoller,” the detective said in a measured tone.

  Stoller looked at her and there was rage in his eyes. Then he turned back to Breanne. Jessie feared he might lunge at her. But instead, his expression changed from anger to horror. Jessie turned to see what had caused the reaction.

  Breanne Stoller was still behind the kitchen counter but had moved a few steps over. Now she was standing beside a knife block. She was holding a long carving knife to her own throat. Her eyes were wild.

  “What the hell—?” Stoller started to say.

  “Leif,” Jessie interrupted in a steady, firm voice, her eyes never leaving Breanne. “You need to leave the kitchen right now. Walk out without saying another word.”

  She waited silently, hoping he’d comply.

  “He’s gone,” Karen said quietly after a few seconds.

  Jessie nodded, still focused on the woman with the blade pressed again her carotid artery.

  “Breanne,” she said gently, “that’s not the answer. I know it seems like there’s no way back from this but there is.”

  Breanne didn’t say anything as her shaking hand quivered against her skin. A small droplet of blood suddenly appeared just below the blade and started to drip down her neck. Jessie continued talking, worried that any pause might allow the woman an opportunity to act rashly.

  “Think about it,” she said. “You were honest with us just now. That will work in your favor down the line. Detective Bray and I will attest to your cooperation. But you need to step back for a second and think what happens next if you do this.”

  “I know what will happen,” Breanne muttered through gritted teeth. “This will all end and he’ll be to blame for it.”

  “Are you sure that’s how it will play out?” Jessie asked, recalling Karen’s question to Deputy Carroll earlier about the age of the children. “Think of Rory and Lily. What would this do to them? Rory’s already traumatized. How will he be affected when police cars with sirens and flashing lights pull up outside and your house is overrun with cops and a coroner with a body bag? How will Lily process it?”

  She saw Breanne pondering the question and pressed on quickly.

  “Do you trust Leif to comfort them in that moment and all the moments afterward? Because you won’t be here to do it. You—their most powerful source of love and comfort—will forever after be the source of their pain. Is that how you want them to remember you? Is that what you want their future lives to be—an endless parade of therapists trying to help them understand why their mother abandoned them to the care of a man she didn’t trust?”

  Jessie leaned in, putting her own hands on the kitchen counter as she spoke quietly.

  “You said you know about me, Breanne. I’m willing to bet you know all about my past, and not just the recent stuff. You have to know that I was abandoned too, left to die by a father who killed my mother and made me watch. How do think the years since then have been for my mental health, trying to wrap my head around that madness? Is that what you want for Rory and Lily?”

  “That’s not how they’ll remember me,” Breanne insisted. “I didn’t kill their father. They won’t see this. They’ll always think of me as their mom.”

  “Are you sure?” Jessie asked immediately, not wanting to let that last comment linger. “Who’s going to fight for your memory? If you’re gone, Leif gets the kids. He raises them with the version of reality that he creates. He raises them with whatever new woman he marries and tells the kids to call ‘mommy.’ Do you think you’ll fare well in that version?”

  “My mom can take custody,” she answered, though not convincingly.

  “Why?” Jessie said, allowing a little more toughness to bleed into her words. “There’s no reason a court would do that. Why would they view Leif as unfit? Who’s going to tell them that he is if you’re not around to share the gambling addiction and the financial ruin and skipping out on parent-teacher conferences to sleep with his mistress, your friend? You’re the only person who can fill in that picture, Breanne.”

  “Why would they listen to a murderer?” she demanded.

  Jessie had anticipated this question.

  “Because even after you’re convicted, even in prison, you’re still their mother. What you say still matters. What you know about Leif will still be important to a judge trying to decide what’s best for your kids’ future. But if you aren’t around to make the case, that gets a lot harder. You mom is suddenly just the mother of the crazy woman who killed herself, not a credible alternative to a man who might leave his kids home alone so he can go play blackjack. You have to be their voice, even if you’re in an orange jumpsuit.”

  Breanne didn’t reply. It was clear she was playing it out in her head, picturing the scenario described. But she still held the knife, so Jessie kept going.

  “I’m not going to lie to you,” she said. “There’s no way clear of this. You are going to prison. But you still have options. A jury might give you a lighter sentence because of what you endured. You could potentially get out in time to see your children while they’re still kids. You can play a role in their lives. You can have a say in who they live with. You can find a way to atone for this with Claudia’s children, who don’t deserve to suffer any more than yours do. But none of that is possible unless you put down the knife.”

  She stopped talking. There was nothing else she could think to say to improve the situation. Karen must have agreed because she remained silent too.

  Breanne Stoller didn’t speak either, but instead just stared at Jessie, her eyes fixed on her as she clutched the knife. And then, after what felt like an eternity, she pulled it away from her neck and placed it on the kitchen counter.

  “That’s a smart decision,” Jessie said soothingly. “Now just slide it towards me.”

  Breanne gave the knife handle a push, sending it sliding several feet across the counter, where it was now closer to Jessie than to her.

  “Good,” Jessie said reassuringly as Karen moved toward the woman. “Now, Detective Bray needs to handcuff you for our safety and for yours. But we’re going to work through all this, okay?”

  Breanne nodded, extending her arms for Karen to snap them on her wrists. She looked almost relieved. But then, without explanation, her expression changed. She was just opening her mouth when Jessie heard a sound behind her. She spun around to find Leif Stoller charging past her toward Breanne with a hammer clutched in his hand. Karen, whose head was turned away, focused on the cuffs, couldn’t see him.

  There wasn’t time for Jessie to pull out her gun and fire. Besides, Karen and Breanne would be at risk if she did. Instead, she hoisted herself onto the kitchen counter, hoping to intercept him before he reached them. As she did, she yelled “Karen” but her voice was drowned out by Breanne’s piercing scream.

  Karen looked over, immediately processed the situation, and started to reach for her gun. Jessie could tell she wouldn’t get it out in time. Now standing on the counter, she took one long stride and leapt at the man, who was only a few feet away from his wife, with a hammer above his head.

  He was just starting to swing it down toward Breanne’s head when Jessie landed on his back, sending him careening into the refrigerator. He collided hard against it before slamming to the floor with her on top of him.

  She heard him grunt heavily as his body cushioned the fall for her. Rolling off his back, she looked for the hammer and saw that it had skittered across the floor into a corner. Looking up, she found Karen pointing her gun at the now-prone assailant.

  “You okay?” she asked Jessie, never taking her eyes off Stoller.

  Jessie took a moment to determine if she actually was.

  “I
think so,” she said.

  “Good. Then maybe you can take charge of Mrs. Stoller while I formally arrest her husband.”

  Jessie slowly got to her feet and stood beside Breanne while Karen ordered Leif to get to his knees. He wordlessly did as he was ordered, though it looked like a struggle. Jessie turned to Breanne.

  “I need your mother’s phone number,” Jessie told her. “We don’t want your kids going in the system so she’ll need to take temporary custody.”

  “Huh?” the woman said, clearly stunned.

  “You’re both going to prison, Breanne. So it looks like you’re going to get your wish after all.”

  Something about that seemed to register in the woman’s brain. Ever so slowly, her mouth curled into a satisfied, twisted smile.

  CHAPTER THIRTY SIX

  Ryan was waiting up for her.

  It was almost ten when she got home so Jessie was surprised to find him sitting at the breakfast table with a smile on his face.

  “I heated up some pizza for you, and poured some wine too,” he said, nodding at the plate and glass beside him. “I thought you could tell me about your day between bites.”

  She tossed her purse on the counter and plopped down in the chair.

  “Bless you,” she said, leaning in to give him a kiss, which he warmly returned. “But I thought you had some news.”

  “It can wait,” he assured her. “Fill me in.”

  She didn’t require much more prodding, giving him the broad strokes of the case between bites of thick crust, cheese, and mushrooms. Both the food and wine were gone before she finished so she poured herself a second glass of red.

  “So both Breanne and Leif Stoller are in custody now,” she concluded. “Her recorded confession is a nice cherry on top but she’d be toast even without it. Jamil has been going back through surveillance footage and her GPS data. Now that we know who to look for, much of it should fall into place. I think it’ll be ironclad by tomorrow.”