Page 28 of The Perfect Illusion
“You okay?” he asked with urgency in his voice.
“I am,” Kat answered, “but thanks for the concern.”
“No offense, but I haven’t heard from you since that incident in the desert with the crazy hitwoman, so I’m always a little on edge when I see your name when my phone rings.”
“Sorry, Tepp,” she told him. “I realize I never seem to call just to say ‘hi.’ I wish this time was different, but it’s not.”
“I’m used to it, Gentry. What’s up?”
“Is your line secure?” she asked.
“My line is always secure. You should know that. The question is whether your line is.”
“It’s not,” she told him, “which is why I’m about to call you back on a burner. Give me twenty seconds.”
She hung up and opened the drawer with all her burner phones. She picked one she’d never used and which she intended to toss once her interactions with Tepper were done. Dalton Tepper had been one of her fellow Army Rangers back when they served in Afghanistan.
When an IED took out their vehicle, it killed three other Rangers, leaving Kat and Tepp as the only survivors. She still had the facial scars from the incident as permanent reminders. Tepp lost three fingers on his left hand and had his spleen removed. They were the lucky ones.
After the incident, Kat left the military, serving as the security chief at a maximum security prison before eventually transitioning into private investigation. Tepp went a different route. He transitioned from the Rangers to military intelligence and eventually to civilian intelligence. He was currently the CIA station chief in Argentina.
Her burner call connected. She was about to speak, but Tepp jumped in first.
“Hold on,” he said. “I’m finding a quiet, secluded spot. Somehow I feel like this needs to be a private conversation.”
“Trust your gut on that, Tepp,” she said.
“How’re you doing by the way?” he asked. “I heard about your fiancé. I’m sorry I never called after that.”
“That’s okay,” she told him, “I wasn’t in the chattiest mood back then.”
“All right,” he said gently. “A conversation for another time, I guess. For now, I’m in a broom closet in the bowels of the U.S. Embassy in Buenos Aires. What’s going on?”
“From what you said earlier, you obviously remember the thing with the hitwoman who kidnapped me and took me out into the California desert to torture me?”
“I do,” Tepp said. “I think the last time we talked was after that, when you asked me to confirm her association with my employer, which I wasn’t able to formally do.”
“Yes,” Kat said. “I know that on the record, you couldn’t be forthcoming. And I have no recollection of any off-the-record conversations to the contrary.”
“Good,” he said. “Then you have to know that I can’t share any information now that I couldn’t then.”
"That's not what I want," Kat told him. "You've been out of the country for a while, so I'm not sure how much access you get to local L.A. news. Did you hear about the escape?"
“I don’t think so,” he admitted.
“Just over two weeks ago, Ash Pierce escaped from the L.A. County Courthouse on the eve of her trial for multiple murders. Along the way, she killed six more people, including two law enforcement officers. She subsequently escaped the country via the San Ysidro border crossing. After that, she disappeared.”
“I had no idea,” Tepp said. “And I’m really sorry to hear it. Based on what I’ve read about the woman, exclusively through public media accounts of course—.”
“Of course,” Kat agreed sarcastically.
“Based on those accounts of her prior history, I’d imagine finding her again will be a virtual impossibility.”
“You’d imagine so,” Kat said, “but you’d be mistaken. I’m 99% sure I just found her.”
The other end of the line was silent for a good three seconds. Kat could almost hear Tepp processing the news and deciding how to respond. She could also hear her own heart hammering against her chest as the anticipation and dread of an inevitable confrontation with Pierce became more of a reality.
“Where?” he finally asked.
