The Perfect Mistress

by Blake Pierce

  “What does that mean?” Jessie asked. “Justice for what?”

  Leia looked up at Garrett. “Ask him. He knows what she was like. Clarice could be…difficult. She was very fickle with her affections. If she felt you wronged her, she could be petty. And for reasons I never understood, she decided that I had wronged her. She cut me out, dumped me from the WBA, and started bad-mouthing me. She told other members that my designs were stolen from someone else, which wasn’t true. She never said who or gave any proof. But it didn’t matter. None of the other members wanted to cross her. They talked about me behind my back. My business dried up. Somehow even the tourists heard about me. Ellen Wade stopped doing my site. I actually went to her office yesterday afternoon and pleaded with her to reconsider; to help me at least redo the site so that I could shift my focus exclusively to online sales. But she said she couldn’t risk pissing off Clarice.”

  Jessie thought it interesting that Leia talked about Ellen so casually, as if she was still alive.

  “And Sarah Ripley took over your space,” Ryan noted.

  “Yeah,” Leia confirmed. “But she was really sweet about it. I didn’t know her very well but she came out to my place about a week ago to tell me she was getting the lease and that she hoped there were no hard feelings. She even offered to stock some of my work in a display case. We’re supposed to have a meeting about it next week.”

  She said it as if the meeting was still on. Jessie fought the urge to look over at Ryan to gauge whether he thought her seeming ignorance about both Sarah’s and Ellen’s fates were believable. Personally, she couldn’t decide.

  “Let’s talk about the blackmail note again,” she said. “In it, you referenced the ‘communications’ part of the WBA site being a criminal enterprise. Were you part of the Special Friends Forum too?”

  “What’s that?” Leia asked.

  “It’s the forum that members used to coordinate their affairs.”

  Leia’s eyes went wide and again Jessie couldn’t be sure if she was sincerely surprised or just a great actress.

  “Until you said that,” she answered, “I wasn’t even a hundred percent sure that’s what it was. I knew Clarice and Martin were into swinging. At first I thought the group was about that. But I knew some of the people in their swinging circle weren’t affiliated with the ‘members only’ group in the WBA so I started to get suspicious. Plus you hear things around town, that maybe it was for something more illicit. So I took a chance. I figured that if it wasn’t anything illegal, she wouldn’t respond. But if the ‘communications’ forum was something criminal, she might pay up. It was a long shot but I was desperate. I needed the money and thought this might be a way to get revenge on the person who put me in this position.”

  “There are lots of ways to get revenge,” Ryan said skeptically.

  Leia shook her head angrily.

  “No,” she insisted. “I was mad. But I would never kill anyone. I know it sounds weird but I’ve known these people forever. I still viewed them as my friends, even the ones who turned their backs on me, even Clarice.”

  Ryan looked at Jessie and she knew from his expression that he didn’t have any more questions. His mind seemed made up. He didn’t believe this woman. But Jessie wasn’t so sure.

  The more she thought about, the more credible it seemed that Leia was a desperate, failed blackmailer than a serial killer. The facts, particularly that she kept the blackmail note, seemed to support the former. What possible reason would Leia have for keeping it in her home if she had killed Clarice? She decided to ask a question that would go a long way to helping her ascertain the truth.

  “Would you be willing to let us check the geo-location on your phone for the last week?’ she asked. “It could help verify your story.”

  “I guess,” Leia shrugged. “But I don’t know how much good it would do. I live by myself and I’ve mostly been home all week. When I do go places, I don’t always take it with me.”

  “It could still help,” Jessie said. “We’d also like to do a DNA test on some of your hair. Are you open to that?”

  Leia’s eyes narrowed at the question.

  “Why?”

  “It could help eliminate you as a suspect,” Jessie said, not completely lying. Of course it could also sink her.

  Leia looked at Garrett again, whose face was impressively blank. When she turned back to Jessie, her response was clear even before she spoke.

  “I’ve answered all your questions. I’m giving you my phone. But taking my hair feels like an invasion of privacy on a different level. I’m sure you can get some kind of warrant to make me give it up, but I think I’m going to say no until you do that.”

  Jessie decided not to push the issue. The truth was that even if Leia had agreed, they wouldn’t be able to get results before Sheriff Kazansky’s hand-picked detectives arrived in town and they had to drop off the radar. She stood and motioned for Ryan and Garrett to join her outside.

  “You think we’ve got enough to charge her?” Garrett asked once they were out of earshot.

  “No question,” Ryan said. “Despite her explanation, she’s got an obvious motive. And from the sounds of it, even once we get her GPS phone data, she won’t have an alibi.”

  “But we don’t have a murder weapon,” Jessie said.

  “Come on,” Ryan replied, mildly irritated. “You know she could have hidden that thing anywhere. It could be sitting out in the woods, buried in a plastic bag in the snow.”

  “So it all comes down to the DNA on the hair,” Garrett suggested.

  “That might not even help,” Jessie said. “If Leia really went to visit Ellen at her office yesterday, she could reasonably claim that the hair got transferred then. Maybe Ellen gave her a sympathetic hug or something.”

  “So what do I do?” Garret asked. “Keep her cuffed to that table until the Riverside detectives arrive?”

  “Can you cut that guy in the cell loose and put her in there?” Ryan asked. “If she did do this, maybe being behind real bars for a bit will get her to reconsider whether a deal might benefit her.”

  “I can do that,” Garrett said. “I was mostly keeping Gunnar in there to scare him straight.”

  “What did he do exactly?” Jessie asked, looking back through the glass at the guy slumped against the wall of the cell.

  “Oh, he’s a constant pain in my ass. The guy is missing the social appropriateness gene. He’s got a habit of staring at teenage girls, sometime following them around town. He’s never gone beyond that but you can imagine that I’ve gotten more than a few complaints about how uncomfortable he makes people. But he finally went too far last night and I threatened to send him down to a real jail if he didn’t get his act in order.”

  “What did he do?” Jessie asked.

  “Oh, he was creeping on some out-of-town girl last night at Wildyology and allegedly he got too close, like actual physical contact. He bumped into her. She called him out in front of everyone. Apparently it was quite a scene. The band stopped playing. She started shouting that he’d been following her around all afternoon and that he’d be suspect number one if anything happened to her.”

  Jessie looked over at Ryan to see if the story about a scene-embracing teenage girl at Wildyology was raising the same alarm bells for him that it was for her, but he seemed focused on Garrett’s story.

  “People started heckling him,” the deputy continued. “He got kicked out and went to Wild Things, where he caused more trouble. That’s when I got called in. So I threw him in the pokey overnight to let him know this was serious.”

  “How do you know he won’t get worse?” Jessie asked.

  “I’ve known the guy my whole life. He just doesn’t understand that people find his behavior unsettling. He stares, oblivious to how he’s perceived. Frankly, I’d be more concerned if he was stealthy about it. Still, initiating physical contact crosses the line. Between that and the subsequent harassment, I tossed him in the cell. He cried most of the ni
ght and pleaded with me not to tell his mom. She lives just up the hill in Pine Grove and he’s worried that if she finds out, she’ll disown him. He’s that kind of guy.”

  “But not the kind of guy who might stab three thirty-something women?” Ryan asked, asking the question that had popped into Jessie’s head as well.

  “Considering that I once saw him bawl like a baby when one of his cousins got cut with a Swiss army knife, I’m disinclined to believe it. He hates the sight of blood. But before we found out about the female hair, I checked his whereabouts, just in case. He was on a camping trip from Friday through Monday so he wasn’t even around when Clarice died. And he was behind those bars when Ellen Wade was killed. So that’d be a ‘no.’”

  “In that case,” Ryan said. “Go ahead and put Leia Choi in the cell. We’re going back to Rich’s cabin to review everything. But let us know right away if it looks like she’s cracking. We’re running out of time.”

  Once Garret returned inside the station, they headed for the car.

  “You’re not sure,” he said, reading her mind.

  “She looks good on paper,” Jessie admitted. “But it just doesn’t feel right to me. It’s too perfect, like she’s being served up on a platter for us. Plus, I just can’t get over why, if she killed Clarice, she’d keep that blackmail note. It’s basically a confession. And if she didn’t do this, you know we’re the last stop for this train. Kazansky’s lackeys will charge her no matter what, just so their boss can snag some headlines. Once they take over, the train leaves the station. And it won’t stop until she goes down for this, whether she deserves it or not.”

  “Then we better move fast,” Ryan said,” Because in about an hour, maybe less, this will be out of our hands for good.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY THREE

  It was too good to be true.

  The True Grass Root, or TGR—the name the killer had taken to using on web forums—was reading the piece on The Wildpines Gazette website. It had everything one could hope for. In her op-ed, Lorraine Porter revealed that local loser Gunnar Quaid had just come to see her after spending the night at the Sheriff’s station, where he’d watched as Leia Choi was questioned by out-of-town detectives in the murder of Clarice Kimble.

  Even better, Lorraine tied Clarice’s death to two other suspicious events in town in just the last thirty-six hours: the dead body found near Brightside Market and Mile High Muscle just this morning and the rumors of a body found up on Rockview Drive.

  Then she posed a series of juicy questions. Were these events connected? Could Leia Choi have snapped and gone on a killing spree? And who were these out-of-town investigators? She revealed that they had questioned her just this morning, asking insulting questions about the operation of the Wildpines Business Association. She further revealed that she could find no investigators with the names Jennifer Barnes or Randy Hosea associated with the Riverside County Sheriff’s Department or any other Southland law enforcement agency.

  This was wonderful news. It seemed likely that Leia Choi was going to be blamed for the work of TGR. That wasn’t the plan but it couldn’t have gone better. Better yet, the only people who seemed interested in pursuing this were about to be run out of town with pitchforks. TGR could go back to normal, lead a regular life again, and no one would ever suspect a thing. It was a gift. And yet.

  Now TGR had a taste for it. The sweet satisfaction that came from that first puncture as the knife popped through the flesh was intoxicating. Even better was the sensation as the blade sliced into human gristle like it was butter. And there might never be a better time to partake of the pleasure again.

  If TGR acted quickly, as in tonight, the deed could be done and the body dumped well outside town. By the time it was discovered, there would be no way to know when she’d been killed. It could easily be attributed to Leia Choi as her last kill before capture. It was perfect actually.

  And TGR could think of one last perfect victim, someone who deserved everything she had coming to her. While the WBA forum was the original source of the transgressions, the willing participants were the true filth. They were an affront to TGR’s sense of decency and decorum and there was an obligation to rid the world of such whores, so that those few who behaved in an upright, moral way could thrive.

  So it was settled. One more thrill. One last night of vengeance that would look like the handiwork of Leia Choi. Then a return to everyday life, living freely among the very neighbors whose lives had been forever destroyed. It was time to prepare.

  CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR

  For the third time in the last five minutes, Jessie looked at the clock in Rich McClane’s kitchen.

  It was 1:48. According to what Rich had told them, the Riverside detectives might show up in town in the next ten minutes or so. Or they could arrive an hour later. Either way, she and Ryan were basically out of time.

  The chances of finding anything to exonerate Leia Choi in that window were remote. And if they were going to tell Rich and Garrett to charge her, they needed to do it ASAP. Files had to be handed over and their association with the case ended. Rich might be able to scrub their involvement but not if they were out and about in town with locals pointing them out to the new detectives.

  Ryan sighed heavily and she knew what was coming.

  “Why are we still doing this, Jessie?’ he asked. “I know you have reservations but we haven’t found anything implicating anyone other than Leia Choi. Why haven’t we pulled the trigger and given the go ahead to charge her? It seems like a no-brainer at this point.”

  It was hard to argue with him. Everything pointed to her. They didn’t have the GPS data on her phone yet, but by her own admission, it might not be exculpatory. They could get a DNA test on her hair but that wouldn’t be determinative either. She couldn’t hold everything up just because something didn’t feel right. Ryan was right. It was a no-brainer. But that was the very problem.

  “It’s too perfect,” she said, her voice rising louder than she’d intended.

  “Everything okay in there?” Hannah called out from the living room.

  They had picked her up from the coffeehouse on their way back from the station, where she said she’d had a great time. She even mentioned that she’d like to keep in touch with a few people she’d met once all this madness ended, especially a girl named Patrice and a boy named Chris. When she’d said the last name, Jessie noticed her face flush.

  She said nothing about that, nor her suspicion that her sister’s evening at Wildyology last night hadn’t been quite as mellow as she’d suggested. There would be time to address that later. For now, she needed to stay focused.

  “Everything’s fine,” she called back before fixing her gaze on Ryan and whispering intently. “It’s not okay. Like I said back at the station, it’s as if Leia is being served up on a platter for us, like someone else is using her as a patsy.”

  Ryan shook his head in frustration.

  “We’re not dealing with the Night Hunter here, Jessie. Who up here do you think is capable of that?”

  Something about his words clicked for her, like a puzzle piece being snapped into place.

  “I’ll tell you who—someone else who knew about how the WBA Special Friends Forum really operated and didn’t like it. Or maybe someone who got kicked out of the WBA, just like Leia, and decided to get revenge, or both. Either way, the real killer would want a pawn she knew could divert attention away from her.”

  Another thought occurred to her and she began furiously typing on her laptop keyboard.

  “What is it?” Ryan asked.

  “Assume for a second that Leia is innocent and the killer wanted to frame her, what would be a perfect way to do that?”

  “I have a feeling you’re about to tell me.”

  She looked at her screen and felt a surge of adrenaline. Then she turned it so he could see it too. It was the website for a company that made high-end wigs. Right at the top of the page in bold lettering was a notice stating that “all of
our wigs are made of the finest human hair sourced directly from the Southeast Asia. No synthetic materials are used in the creation of any of our products.”

  “That’s pretty typical,” she told him. “Most hair for wigs is imported from either India or China.”

  “So you’re saying someone could have worn the wig as a way to implicate Leia?” Ryan asked, sounding curious but unconvinced.

  “That; or it could just have been a disguise. Maybe our killer is a blonde and thought wearing a wig with dark hair could better hide her identity.”

  “Assume for a second that I buy this,” Ryan said. “That could be anyone. How can we possibly narrow it down?”

  Jessie thought for a second, playing out her theory in her head before she spoke it aloud. Finally she looked over at Ryan.

  “If I’m right, the hair is secondary. We should be looking at other people who got kicked out of the WBA recently and then see if that person isn’t a brunette.”

  Ryan’s expression went from skeptical to intrigued.

  “Do the search,” he said excitedly.

  She put in the same parameters as she had during the original search that revealed Leia Choi was removed from the WBA. Within seconds she had the list. It was short.

  “There are only two hits for other people removed in the last few months. One is for a guy named Sean Foley. He’s a carpenter and blade smith.”

  “That sounds promising,” Ryan said. “I bet he’s got a wall of knives at his disposal.”

  Jessie agreed but as she studied his page, her heart sank.

  “No good,” she said. “It looks like he was only removed from the association because he moved. His website says that he relocated to Flagstaff, Arizona, a month ago.”