Jessie Hunt 13-The Perfect Impression by Blake Pierce (ebook reader online free .txt) 📗

are just afew pages long, synopses really; except for this one.”

“What is it?”

“You remember the Night Hunter, right?” she asked.

“Sure,” Ryan replied. “You don’t have to be a profiler to know thatcase—notorious serial killer who wreaked havoc along the eastern seaboard foryears in the 1980s and ’90s.”

“Correct. And you know that Garland spent his last years at the Bureauhunting for the guy, found him in fact.”

“That’s where he got all those scars,” Ryan recalled, clearly thinkingof Garland’s dead, vulnerable body on a medical table at the morgue after hisdeath. He’d been covered in them.

“Yes,” Jessie confirmed. “He eventually caught up to the Night Hunter.Unfortunately, the killer got the upper hand on him. He surprised him in hisown condo, capturing and torturing Garland for two days, almost killing himbefore he was able to free himself and use the killer’s own machete against himbefore the man escaped into the night. Garland gave him several deep gashes onhis limbs and sliced a cut horizontally along the guy’s entire forehead. Healways thought one of the reasons the Night Hunter bailed that night was thathe was half-blinded by the blood pouring into his eyes.”

“I thought that the authorities said that he likely died of hisinjuries in their fight,” Ryan said.

“They did,” Jessie replied, “but if this file is any indication,Garland wasn’t so sure.”

“Okay,” Ryan said slowly. “But where are you going with this? Even ifhe had survived his fight with Garland, wouldn’t he be in his seventies by now?And why would he suddenly start killing again? Besides, I thought the NightHunter was more of the dismembering type, what with the machete and all. Thisdoesn’t seem like his M.O.”

“All excellent points,” Jessie said as she rifled through the file andpulled out a sheet of paper near the end. “And normally I wouldn’t have eventhought to connect them, except for this.”

She tossed him the page and waited while he read it, watching his eyesgrow wider the further along he got. When he was done, he looked up.

“Why have I never heard about this before?” he asked.

“Because it could never be verified so it didn’t go in the final report,”she told him.

According to the notes, after the clash with the Night Hunter, Garland foundan address written on a piece of paper that had been taped to his medicinecabinet mirror. He figured it was left by the Night Hunter for the authoritiesto discover when they found his dead body. When investigators went to theaddress, they found a murdered woman who looked like her skin had been peeledoff with an X-Acto knife.

“So did Garland think that the Night Hunter had changed techniques?”Ryan asked. “That he was going to switch everything up after he killed the profilerchasing him, so he could start fresh?”

“Hard to say for sure,” Jessie said. “That’s possible. Or maybe he wastraining a protégé to take over in case he didn’t survive his attack onGarland. Either way, they never found another murder that matched that originalX-Acto killing—until now.”

“So it could be the Night Hunter,” Ryan offered. “Or it could be aprotégé. Or it could be someone who was doing research on Garland Moses, readthis file, and was inspired—some kind of copycat.”

They sat quietly in the study, pondering the possibilities. Jessie couldn’tdecide which was more troubling to her. A protégé or copycat, especially onenew to the system, would be hard to identify and eager to make a bloody mark onthe city. But a return of the original Night Hunter meant they were dealingwith a methodical, patient killer who had escaped capture for decades.

Both were nightmares that filled her with dread while simultaneouslymaking her blood boil. Before either could say anything more, Jessie’s cellphone rang. It was Captain Decker. She showed Ryan the screen. He frowned.

“Kind of late,” he said, noting the time. It was almost midnight.Jessie shrugged and answered.

“Hi, Captain,” Jessie said. “Everything okay?”

“There’s been a murder on Catalina Island,” he said without preamble. “It’sa rich victim at a fancy hotel. Headquarters specifically requested us.Apparently, a bigwig from the hotel is a generous LAPD donor. It’s not ourtypical case but I’m not in a position to be turning down requests from HQthese days.”

“Sir—” she started to say before he cut her off.

“HSS is being asked to take this on and I don’t need to remind you howbadly we need a win these days,” he said. “Besides, apparently the sheriff outthere is overwhelmed and understaffed. He asked for a profiler to assist, onewho could get there quick and participate while ‘maintaining a small footprint,’whatever that means. Everyone on the team is assigned to a current case so Ithought of you. Can you do it?”

Jessie tried to set aside her surprise at such a sudden, late-nightrequest to scour her memory for all her recollections about the island.

“Hunt,” Decker said urgently. “I need an answer fast. If you say no, I’vegot to scramble on this one.”

“That’s an hour’s boat ride, isn’t it?” Jessie said.

“We have a helicopter on standby. It can get you there in twentyminutes. Like I said, we’re already behind the eight ball on this. Can I countyou in?”

“Can I pick my partner?” she asked.

“No partner,” he said sharply. “There’s not enough time. And remember,we’re pushing the ‘small footprint’ thing. Other than local law enforcement,you’ll be solo on this. Can I count on you?”

“I don’t even know what the case is,” she protested.

“I don’t know much either,” he admitted. “But I figured that since you’reon semester break, you had the time.”

“You’re keeping tabs on my school schedule?” she asked, slightlystunned.

“I keep tabs on everything, Ms. Hunt. You know that,” he told her. “Anyway,there’s a squad car waiting outside your place to get you to the heliport. Ican tell you what I know on the drive over.”

Jessie looked over at Ryan, who had heard everything.

“Don’t say no for logistical reasons,” he said. “If you’re interested,go. I can make sure Hannah’s squared away. Hell, since it’s a weekend, she’llprobably sleep till noon anyway. Don’t worry. I’ve got things covered on thehome front.”

She couldn’t help but feel a surge of adrenaline as she