Page 14 of The Perfect Prey

That was her hope but not her expectation.She’d begun to fear that she no longer had the “touch”—the ability to create a convincing persona that drew people in and made them want to protect her.That had been a valuable part of her tool kit as she got close to her victims.

She wondered if she came off as too cold.Admittedly, shewascold, but she could usually hide that part of herself.Maybe the coma had done something to her that cost her that ability, but she suspected it was something else.She blamed her re-established memory.

The truth was that, despite what some might believe, she genuinely had lost her memory for an extended stretch after waking up.She remembered some things, including part of her time as a Marines Special Operations element leader.But the stuff about being an assassin for the CIA and later a freelance hitwoman was wiped from her mental database.

When she was first told who she was and what her crimes were, she’d been appalled.It was hard to reconcile that killer with who she was as she lay in that hospital bed—a scared, confused woman with a bad memory, a weaker body, and no desire to kill anyone.The current incarnation of Ash was certain that it was that prior, more guileless version of her that had convinced people that she was worth rooting for, because that version of herwastruly horrified at what she’d been accused of.

But then her memory returned, first in bits in pieces, and then in one consciousness-shattering wave.Even now, she could still remember that naïve, formless person, but she no longer existed.Only the original Ash remained.And mostly, she was glad for it.

Yes, there were advantages to being that sad gal.She suspected that the naif-ish energy she gave off previously couldn’t be faked.And she also suspected that even though multiple medical experts claimed her memory loss was legit (which it was when they examined her) that on some primal level, jurors could sense she wasn’t that person anymore.

As if to prove that to herself, Ash walked over to another table in the unit, where a heavily-tattooed woman about the same age as her but nearly twice her size sat, unwrapping a granola bar.Ash stepped into her line of vision.

“I want that,” she said, pointing at the bar.

She didn’t want it, but she wanted to test her resolve and how people might react to it.

“What?”asked the woman, who had been about to take a bite.

“I want that,” Ash repeated.“Give it to me.”

For the briefest of seconds, anger flashed in the other woman’s eyes, probably the same anger that had gotten away from her at some point and led to her current incarceration.But today, she quickly got hold of it, blinking away the fury as she exhaled slowly.Without a word, she handed over the bar.

Ash took it, wandered casually over to the nearest trash bin, and dropped the bar in it.Then she looked back at the tattooed woman, whose mouth was wide with surprise.But she quickly stifled that too and looked down at the table, refusing to make eye contact.Ash continued to pace the room, reminded once again that her prior sensitive, naïve personality was nowhere to be found.She was her old self.

But while in some ways, the loss of that persona was a setback, it was far outweighed by the return of the important stuff, like her skill set and strategic acumen.She was also grateful that her predecessor’s whole annoying “conscience” thing had disappeared too.

Its absence better suited her emerging needs.After all, if she hadn’t been able to win over the judge, and since she had serious doubts that she could ingratiate herself with the jury, she had to try something else, which was why she had tried the Haddonfield idea.

Two weeks ago, on the prison transport bus that took inmates back and forth between Twin Towers and the courthouse, she’d struck up a conversation with the college boy killer, suggesting that if they worked together, they might be able to escape.

It was an unusual move, but one that she thought could pay off, no matter how Haddonfield reacted.If he bit, then maybe they could actually find a way to break free.If he didn’t, that could work for her too.

She hoped that Haddonfield might report the conversation to prison officials, or even better, to Jessie Hunt, whom he was clearly obsessed with.If he told Hunt in the hope of winning her favor, the profiler might go to the judge with the claim.That’s when Ash could pounce.

She would deny the charge and have her lawyers claim that Hunt was trying to manipulate the court to secure a conviction.Her legal team could claim that she was being railroaded with false accusations from a killer who was trying to get in good with the object of his diseased affection.

Maybe that would finally change the dynamic with the judge and lead to more favorable rulings.It wasn’t a silver bullet, but it was a tactical move to improve her pretty dismal situation.Anything that might shake up the trial was worth trying at this point.

Unfortunately, after two weeks, it seemed that Haddonfield had gone with a third route, one Ash hadn’t anticipated but probably should have.He seemed to have done nothing.He hadn’t agreed to join her plot, but he also didn’t appear to have told anyone about their little chat.

Truthfully, that was probably the smartest move for him right now.He wasn’t putting his physical safety at risk by teaming up for a dangerous escape, but by not telling Hunt or the authorities, he also avoided alienating the tiny assassin he shared a bus with.Maybe he was just a coward.Or maybe she’d underestimated the kid.It was possible that he was holding his knowledge close to the vest for now, waiting for the moment when it could best servehisinterests.

If that was the case, he was going to have to act fast.From what she’d heard, the jury in his case might come in with a verdict as early as tomorrow.If they came back guilty—and they would—it would be too late for him to secure any kind of deal.

The thought made Ash nervous, to the extent that she was capable of feeling such things.If Haddonfield intended to make a move, it would be soon.If he spilled the beans about their little chat, it might help Ash’s cause with the judge, but in the short term, it would mean tighter and more vigilant security around her.

And the way things were going with her case, she might actually have to try to escape soon.At least if she tried, she’d have some control over her destiny.After all, with her luck of late, it might not be advisable to leave her fate in the hands of a jury of sheep, at least ones who weren’thersheep.

Ash exhaled slowly as she tried to gather her thoughts.She had some big decisions to make and not much time to make them.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Jessie rubbed her exhausted eyes.

She couldn’t believe how little progress they’d made in the six hours since interviewing Olivia Townsend.It wasn’t for a lack of effort.Joining forces with Jamil and Beth, she and Susannah had checked 71 people on Jamil’s “close contacts” list.They’d been able to reach 53 of them, none of whom were overtly suspicious on their first pass.

The 18 they hadn’t yet got in touch with could theoretically be hateful, violent murderers, but so far, they had no way of knowing.And that didn’t account for other 32 close contacts on Jamil’s list whom they had yet try to connect with.It was already 5:45.Jessie was dubious that they’d get to all of them tonight.

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