CHAPTER ONE

Jessie Hunt was ready to go home.

This wasn't really her scene, though she had promised Ryan that she'd make an effort.

Ever since her brain surgery three months ago, Jessie had been mostly a homebody, not even wanting to go out to the movies, much less a couples' dinner.

But her husband, Ryan Hernandez, had insisted that they needed to get out of the house and be more social. It was one of his New Year's resolutions, and she'd reluctantly agreed to make it hers too. That's why they were currently having dessert at A.O.C. in West Hollywood with Karen and Mickey Bray.

Of course, it wasn't a traditional couples' dinner, considering that Jessie, Ryan, and Karen all worked together. Both Karen and Ryan were detectives with the LAPD, specifically Homicide Special Section, or HSS, a small unit consisting of five detectives and two researchers that specialized in cases with high profiles or intense media scrutiny—typically involving multiple victims or serial killers. Ryan ran the unit. Jessie was its assigned criminal profiler. They all worked out of downtown's Central Station.

Jessie had met Karen's husband, Mickey, at several department functions but never really interacted with him socially. A high school science teacher, he seemed like a likeable, decent guy who was easy to talk to. It was clear that both Brays were excited to be out tonight, especially on a weekday.

In fact, that was why Jessie hadn't tried to rush through the evening, despite her inclinations. Since the Brays had gone to the trouble of getting a babysitter for their five-year-old son, a major expense in Los Angeles, she didn't want to short-change their night out.

But as she took a bite of her crème br?lée and the conversation gravitated to small talk about whether the Lakers would make the playoffs this year, Jessie found her mind wandering. The voices of the other three people at the table faded as her thoughts turned to more pressing concerns .

She was still worried about her best friend, Kat Gentry, who had been even more of a shut-in than Jessie of late. She had good reason. Less than six weeks ago, Kat's fiancé, Mitch Connor, was gunned down in an attempt on her life. Since then, she'd turned her grief over his loss into an obsession with a woman named Ash Pierce.

Though it clearly wasn't healthy, Jessie understood where her friend's fixation came from. Kat thought that Pierce, an assassin paid to torture and kill her, had hired someone to finish the job when she couldn't, and they'd gotten Mitch instead. It turned out that the killer had a different motive, but that didn't stop Kat from becoming consumed by Pierce, who was currently hospitalized, recovering from a coma that may or may not have wiped out her recent memory.

As Jessie took a sip of her coffee and nodded absently at what Mickey Bray was saying about the playoffs, it occurred to her that late evening caffeine wasn't likely to quell the cacophony of thoughts bouncing around her head. After all, Kat wasn't the only loved one on her mind.

Jessie's younger half-sister, Hannah, had just returned to college at UC Irvine last week, after finishing winter break. Hannah appeared to be doing well, all things considered. But Jessie could tell that her sister was keeping something from her. She wasn't inclined to push the issue, considering that Hannah seemed to be adapting to college, even making the Dean's List in her first semester as an eighteen-year-old freshman. But a low-simmering concern for her was always present in Jessie's subconscious.

As if that wasn't enough, there was the ongoing issue that neither she nor Ryan had addressed since the start of the new year: kids. Ryan had lately expressed an interest in having them. Jessie, for reasons she'd shared with him privately and in couples' therapy, wasn't totally on board with the idea. He'd stopped pursuing the matter for the time being. And while she appreciated his restraint, she knew that it was still eating at him. Until she gave him a definitive answer one way or another, the topic would always be a source of silent conflict between them.

"It's really wild, don't you think?" Mickey asked, looking directly at her.

Since Jessie had no idea what he'd said just prior to that, she busted out a line she'd learned from a comedian who claimed it was a perfect non-responsive response.

"Can you believe it?" she replied, feigning amazement .

"Right," he agreed happily, before launching back into something about the NBA salary cap. She smiled politely as she took another bite of dessert and returned to her own concerns, most notably, Haddonfield.

Mark Haddonfield had once been a student at UCLA when Jessie taught a criminal profiling seminar there. But when the extremely unstable young man couldn't get into her class, his already fragile psyche was bruised beyond repair and he began to view Jessie, once his hero, as the cause of his disintegrating life.

He took his fury out on people that Jessie had previously rescued from serial killers, becoming one himself as he murdered them using the same methods that the original killers had. Eventually he came after Jessie too.

With help, Jessie eventually captured him. Unfortunately, Haddonfield had managed to post a manifesto online, calling on potential followers to pick up where he'd left off, and take out the people closest to Jessie. It was one of those acolytes who had shot Mitch when he dived in front of Kat to protect her. Soon thereafter, another acolyte went after Jessie's psychiatrist, Dr. Janice Lemmon. The older woman had survived, but Jessie had enough.

She made a deal with Haddonfield. If he retracted his manifesto, she promised to bring cases to him periodically, letting him "consult" with her from behind bars. His dream had always been to become her protégé. And if letting him see an occasional case file allowed him to maintain that illusion while keeping her friends and family safe, it felt like a small price to pay.

Haddonfield had lived up to his end of the bargain, recording a video that called on his followers to end their hunt. It was posted online immediately. And in the weeks since, there had been no new attacks. But so far, Jessie hadn't brought any cases to Haddonfield to review.

There were legitimate reasons to hold back. No case had felt worth the effort yet. Plus, she worried that if word got out about their agreement, there might be blowback, not just from the media and families of Haddonfield's victims, but from Kat, who could resent her working with the man largely responsible for Mitch's death.

But she had to visit him soon. If Haddonfield felt like she had played him, she had no doubt that he'd find a way to sic his dogs on her again. And once he felt that she'd betrayed his trust, it was unlikely that he'd call them off a second time .

"Jessie, what's up with that whole Costabile thing?" Mickey asked, snapping her out of her reverie.

"Mickey, no," Karen groaned, clearly embarrassed by her husband's question.

"What?" he said. "It was all over the news. Sorry. I didn't know it was off-limits."

"It's not, Mickey," Jessie said. "I think Karen's just being protective because it was an intense situation, but that's okay. What do you want to know?"

Mickey was referring to Hank Costabile, a former LAPD sergeant who'd been busted two years ago for corruption, as well as for trying to have Jessie killed when she found out about it. He'd served eighteen months in prison before being released due to a prosecutorial error at trial. But instead of enjoying his second lease on life, the guy chose to use his freedom to come after Jessie again.

"Well, for starters, Ryan's not getting charged, right?" Mickey wanted to know

"No," Ryan assured him. "I was cleared of any wrongdoing in the incident."

Jessie silently noted that while that was the official answer, and it was technically accurate, it didn't convey the entirety of the situation. For example, it didn't include the fact that as Jessie had leapt onto a car to escape Costabile, who was chasing her with a knife, Ryan had slammed his vehicle into the one that the corrupt cop was standing on, sending him flying thirty feet into a chain-link fence.

Nor did his answer address the reason Ryan was investigated in the first place, which was the severe damage to Costabile's face, a result of at least a dozen punches Ryan delivered once he got up and close with the former cop. Both Jessie and Ryan had testified to the L.A. Police Commission's Office of the Inspector General that Costabile had been combative during his arrest, requiring extreme force. Because there was no surveillance video to contradict their claim and the board wasn't inclined to look into the matter that closely, that was the end of it.

Of course, it wasn't the end of it for them. Jessie had seen the unrelenting fury with which Ryan had beaten Costabile. She also recalled how, for the longest time, she hadn't told him to stop.

Normally mild-mannered, with warm brown eyes and a sweet smile highlighted by impressive dimples, he was like a wild man that night. He used every inch of his well-muscled, two-hundred-pound, six-foot-tall body to pummel Costabile into submission .

And the dark truth was, watching her husband do that to the man who'd threatened her life had awakened something that had been dormant in her for a long time, something she'd thought she'd finally learned to channel into a purely altruistic alternative.

She thought that she'd fully redirected her ferocious, bloodthirsty desire for vengeance, a trait she and her sister had both inherited from their shared serial killer father, into a passion for justice. But as she watched gleefully while Ryan nearly killed Hank Costabile with his bare hands, she realized that she wasn't quite as evolved as she thought she was.

"And you guys are both okay?" Mickey asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

"More or less," Jessie told him. "It's never fun to have a human wrecking ball charge at you with a switchblade. But we're at dinner with you guys, and he's still laid up in the hospital, so I'll take it."

"It wasn't just him, right?" Mickey confirmed. "There were people helping him?"

"That's correct," Ryan volunteered to take some of the pressure off her to answer every question. "A guard at the prison that Jessie was visiting just before the attack tipped him off to her location. And the desk sergeant at Central Station, a guy named Crowley, was feeding Costabile real-time information on her status. Luckily we discovered both their involvement, although we suspect there may be others too."

"Remind me, when does Costabile's trial start?" Karen asked.

"No date has been set yet," Ryan said. "The man is still in the hospital recovering from a shattered right leg, a punctured lung, a lacerated spleen, a torn labrum, and multiple facial fractures. But they'll eventually retry him."

"And I suspect the prosecutors will be more careful this time," Karen added. "No mistakes that could lead to a conviction being overturned on appeal."

"How long could he go away for?" Mickey wondered.

Jessie took a final bite of her dessert before answering. She'd wondered the same thing and checked with the D.A. for confirmation.

"If he's convicted on everything they plan to charge him with, he'll be inside for at least twenty-five years," she said, "and potentially up to forty. Either way, he'll be an old man when he gets out, assuming he does."

"What does that mean?" Mickey asked .

"Convicted cops don't tend to do well in maximum security prisons," Ryan explained.

Mickey looked like he had another question, but before he could ask it, Ryan's phone rang. Jessie recognized the ringtone. The call was from Gaylene Parker, the captain of Central Station. She was also their boss.

"I'm sorry," Ryan said, "I have to answer this."

He got up from the table and stepped away. Jessie could hear him mumbling but couldn't make out his words.

"Parker?" Karen guessed sagely, referencing Gaylene Parker, the captain of Central Station.

Jessie nodded without a word.

Karen Bray was a veteran detective who'd had transferred to HSS from Hollywood Station after working a case with Jessie a few years ago and hitting it off. She had an unflappable air of professionalism to go with her keen sense of perception. She wasn't one to miss clues. And she must have known that there was only one person that would cause that kind of reaction in Ryan.

He returned moments later, and it was clear from his expression what was coming.

"I'm sorry to cut this short, but Jessie and I have to go," he said. "I'll get the bill on the way out."

"Don't be silly," Karen said. "We're splitting it. And since you're clearly in a rush, we'll get it. You can pay us back later. And don't forget, with all that Costabile work talk, it's deductible."

"Thanks, Karen," Ryan said.

"Care to tell me what this is about?" Jessie asked, standing up.

"No time right now," he said hurriedly. "I'll explain on the way."