Page 1 of The Perfect Illusion
PROLOGUE
Patricia Hollinger studied herself in the closet mirror for the fourth time now.
She’d already changed outfits three times but finally felt that this one nailed it.
She wanted to wear the perfect evening gown for tonight’s charity event. It wasn’t fair to ask so much of one gown but here she was, doing it anyway. The dress had to ooze philanthropic class while showing attendees that she could still pour herself into the same kind of form-fitting outfit from her beauty pageant days.
This one, sparkling black and white, with a slight plunge at the neckline, was an off-the-shoulder classic that highlighted her toned arms and revealed her svelte curves, if not much skin. She was satisfied with it.
Some part of her felt mildly guilty about spending so much time on her look when the focus should be on the homeless shelter she’d recently helped expand from 30 to 50 beds, including a dedicated section for women and children. She was incredibly proud of the accomplishment, but she still wanted to look good while announcing it.
That was especially true since she was attending the event solo. Robert had planned to be back tonight but the company board’s big post-convention “steak & cigars” dinner had been pushed back a night, so he wouldn’t be home until tomorrow morning. He apologized profusely, which she’d accepted with grace after pouting briefly. She didn’t like to give him too hard a time, considering that her husband was worth about $70 million and liked spending it on her.
She heard a door close downstairs and briefly got excited, thinking Robbie might have somehow made it home in time. But that only lasted long enough for her to remember that their housekeeper, Rosa, had said she’d be heading out in ten minutes. Looking at her phone, Patricia saw that it was currently 6:06 P.M., almost exactly ten minutes since that conversation. That closing door was just Rosa leaving.
She returned her attention to the full-length mirror and began to ponder her next important decision: what shoes to wear. She picked three from her shoe closet and laid them out on the carpet in front of her feet. She was just about to slide into the first pair when she heard what sounded like glass breaking.
“Rosa?” she called out, turning and heading into the bedroom.
For half a second, she thought that their dog, Randy, had gotten into something. But then she remembered that he was still at the vet's, recovering from his dental cleaning. They were keeping him overnight.
She was halfway across the bedroom when she stopped, reconsidering her choice. If Rosa was gone and the dog wasn’t here, what had caused that noise? Though she couldn’t put her finger on why, something felt off to her.
Patricia turned and headed back to the bathroom, where her phone was resting on the vanity. She didn't know if calling 911 was overkill, but she at least wanted to call Robbie to get his take. As she stepped into the bathroom, she caught sight of a flash of movement behind her in the vanity mirror.
She spun around to find a figure rushing toward her. But her eyes were quickly diverted to what the figure was holding in their gloved hand. It was a large piece of broken glass.
Patricia froze in place. Unable to move, she found that she was still able to scream.
But not for long.
CHAPTER ONE
Jessie Hunt made a sharp right turn at the last second, nearly clipping the curb.
Then she glanced behind her to see if any cars had followed them down the one-way side street. Her passenger did the same thing. Neither of them noticed anything unusual so far.
She would be glad when this sort of thing was no longer required, but for the time being she was trying to be patient. So she continued to engage in these unconventional driving maneuvers.
After all, in just three days, her best friend Kat Gentry, who was seated beside her in the car, would be moving into her new apartment. That meant she'd be moving out of the home of Jessie and her husband, Detective Ryan Hernandez. It also meant that Jessie would no longer have to follow Kat's elaborate driving routine to avoid being followed.
Jessie understood where Kat was coming from. After all, her friend was legitimately concerned about the hitwoman who’d been paid to kill her. Even though Ash Pierce had escaped from prison and the country just two weeks ago, there was the very real possibility that she might try to return to the U.S to finish the job, if she wasn’t already back.
So Kat had set up elaborate protections for herself. Living with Jessie and Ryan in their fortress of a home until she found a new place was one of them. Changing the location of her private detective office was another. And so was altering her route from Jessie’s place into work every day.
Unfortunately, that meant that Jessie—and sometimes Ryan—had to engage in all manner of driving trickery. That included running red lights, making unexpected U-turns, occasionally going down one-way roads, and as in this instance, making out-of-the-blue last second turns onto side streets.
That was only half the battle. Once Jessie eventually dropped her friend off at a mall, or a metro station, or in this case, at a crowded mid-morning farmers market, Kat would bob and weave her way through people to get to her rideshare driver, who was waiting to take her to another location, where she would follow the same evasion procedure before finally getting dropped off at the parking garage where her recently purchased used car was waiting to finally drive to her office.
“Can you make a left at the next intersection?” Kat asked, a request that would send them back in the direction they’d originally come from.
“Not a problem,” Jessie assured her. “How far away is today’s farmers market?”
“About six blocks to the west,” Kat told her. “Do you think I should order the rideshare now or wait another minute?”
"Tough call," Jessie acknowledged. "You don't want to be standing around waiting for the car, but if you're not there when they show up, they might bail. I'd probably err on the side of waiting to order it. You can always dart around the market for an extra minute until they show up."
“That makes sense,” Kat agreed. “Okay, I’ll hold off a little longer. You’re headed into the station after you drop me off?”
