Page 2 of The Perfect Illusion

The station was LAPD’s downtown Central Station, where Jessie was the criminal profiler for a dedicated unit called Homicide Special Section, or HSS. The small unit, consisting of five detectives and two researchers, specialized in cases with high profiles or intense media scrutiny—typically involving multiple victims or serial killers. Her husband, Ryan, ran the unit’s day-to-day operations and was overseen by Captain Gaylene Parker.

“Yeah,” Jessie said. “Since my case from yesterday wrapped up late, Captain Parker said I could sleep in today. I’m hoping to get in by 10:30.”

“I noticed that Ryan was already gone when I woke up this morning,” Kat said.

“Yeah, he was assigned to a different case,” Jessie explained. “He’s paired up with Jim Nettles. I was working with Karen Bray.”

“Your husband didn’t need your profiling services for his case?” Kat teased.

“Apparently not,” Jessie replied, before jokingly adding, “Maybe I’m not as valuable as I’d like to think I am.”

Kat nodded, though her expression suggested she wanted to say something more.

“What is it?” Jessie asked.

“Nothing,” Kat said, before going ahead anyway. “It’s just that you and Ryan are usually paired together so I found it odd that you weren’t this time. Also, I’ve noticed a hint of tension since I’ve been staying with you guys. I’m worried that I’ve been invading your ‘couples’ space’ for too long now. I swear that I’ll be out this weekend.”

“It’s fine,” Jessie said, not expounding beyond that.

The truth was that, while Kat’s continued presence was a bit of a strain on their personal space, she wasn’t the primary reason for the simmering tension she accurately sensed. That had more to do with issues she had no part in.

For example, it wasn’t Kat’s fault that Jessie and Ryan had been at loggerheads for months over the idea of having a child, either naturally or through adoption. Jessie had been adamantly opposed to giving birth herself for both professional and health reasons. And once Ryan had made peace with the alternative idea of adopting, another complication had cropped up.

Actually, "cropped up" was a diplomatic term for the situation. In recent weeks, Ryan had cast cold water on the idea of adopting, primarily because of a concern to them both. The concern was Jessie's ongoing and increasingly intense desire to exact violent retribution against anyone she perceived to be a wrongdoer.

More specifically, Jessie felt a relentless bloodlust, one that she’d always had inside her but until recent months, had managed to subdue by identifying and capturing killers in order for them to face the justice system. Of late, she’d determined that perhaps she should be doling out justice rather than the courts.

This bloodthirsty desire to punish the guilty had been with her for a long time, an unwanted gift from her now-dead serial killer father. Known as the Ozarks Executioner, he’d slaughtered dozens of people over decades before Jessie eventually stopped him.

But whereas his need to kill had manifested in the murders of countless innocents, Jessie had somehow managed to channel her cravings—ones she believed she’d inherited from him—into something more constructive. She studied forensic psychology at school and eventually became a criminal profiler, using her own darkness to better understand how and why killers did what they did.

For a long time, catching these twisted offenders satiated her desire for vengeance. Knowing that they were off the streets and in prison, where they couldn’t hurt anyone else, was enough for her. But not anymore.

On multiple occasions in the last few months, she'd come dangerously close to using her own hands to make these killers pay. In at least two instances, only last-second questions or comments from her partners snapped her out of a violent moment.

That was what had Ryan so concerned. He reasonably wondered—if she couldn’t control herself when it came to the work she’d dedicated her life to, what would happen if that lack of control manifested itself in their personal life?

It was a legitimate issue, one she’d tried to resolve in multiple ways. Her long-time therapist, Dr. Janice Lemmon, had been working with her to find some way to get a handle on her compulsions. But so far, they’d proved fruitless.

Just last week, she made a disastrous attempt to curb her desires through medication. Unfortunately, while the pill had reduced her craving for violence, it also made her a fuzzy-headed, rundown mess. That was a bad combination for someone who depended on her powers of perception to solve crimes. In that instance, she managed to fake it long enough for the effect of the medication to wear off, but she knew she’d been lucky.

Jessie had investigated another option. Her younger half-sister, Hannah Dorsey, had expressed similar urges, and even acted on them in an incident that was later generously determined to be self-defense. When Hannah admitted to her struggles and asked for help, Dr. Lemmon had found a treatment facility where she spent several months learning how to redirect her desires into more constructive directions.

That was great for Hannah, who had been a high school senior at the time. She was able to continue her studies at the facility, where no one knew her identity. It wasn’t so easy for Jessie. For one thing, she couldn’t just take off several months for treatment.

Another problem was that because of her success at apprehending multiple serial killers, she was a minor celebrity in Los Angeles, often seen on the local news. When she and Ryan visited a facility near Santa Barbara, two people had recognized her. That was a problem.

If her presence at a residential facility was discovered, it could jeopardize her job. Even if higher-ups in the LAPD assumed she had a substance abuse issue rather than a psychological one in which she wanted to violently end people, it could be a death knell for her career. So, at least for now, she was stuck treading emotional water.

Even though Kat was her best friend, she wasn't aware of the magnitude of this issue, and Jessie wanted to keep it that way. So she kept it to herself. Kat seemed to sense that she wasn't willing to go into anything personal, so she changed gears.

“How’s your head doing?” she asked. “No bumps or bruises working your most recent case?”

Kat was referring to Jessie’s multiple concussions while engaging with suspects, which had led to her being diagnosed with Second Impact Syndrome, a dangerous, potentially deadly condition that had led her neurologist to keep her away from field work for months.

“Nope,” Jessie assured her, as she punched the gas to speed through a light that was just changing from yellow to red. “Everyone I work with is diligent about jumping into danger so I don’t have to. It’s both heartwarming and guilt-inducing.”

“Guilt is better than the alternative,” Kat reminded her. “Remember, you’re not a detective. You’re a profiler. You do the brain work and let the cops do the heavy lifting.”

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