Page 2 of The Perfect Deception
This method of killing wasn’t just humane.It was also less bloody than some other techniques, which was important for what she had planned.She undressed Camille, then quickly changed into the woman’s clothes and put on the wig.After making sure Camille’s cross-body bag had her ID and ship sail pass, which allowed her to re-board the Jamboree, she moved on to the nitty gritty work.
She cut off Camille’s fingertips, removed her teeth, wrapped her body in the first garbage bag, and then pulled the second bag over the first, before tying everything off and dragging it all into the burlap sack.After that, she hoisted Camille’s body over her shoulder and made the challenging two hundred yard walk through the alley, across the service road, and down the harborside steps to the water’s edge.By the time she got there, she was sweating and her legs burned.Camille probably topped out at 110 pounds, but that added up quickly when carrying it.
This was a quiet section of town, more industrial than touristy in nature.No cars passed by and the only people she saw were a quarter mile away, fishing.They never looked her way.That was good because she still had work to do.
She grabbed the old anchor she’d bought from a supply warehouse earlier that morning and then hid behind a trash can, where she wrapped the six feet of chain and the attached steel anchor around the sack, tying it off as best she could.Then, after one last glance at the fisherman to make sure they were still oblivious, she rolled Camile Overton off the esplanade and into the water.The woman bobbed there for a few seconds before quickly sinking into the inky depths.
Ash turned and made the long walk back to the ship.She stopped into a cheap souvenir shop and picked up a “I Love Ensenada” baseball cap, which she wore low over her face as she returned to the Jamboree.She swiped Camille’s ship sail pass and was allowed on without incident.
The cruise wasn’t over.The Jamboree still had that evening and a whole day at sea before it returned to Long Beach.She spent virtually all of it in her stateroom, ordering room service for every meal.She didn’t want to take any chance that Camille had made friends on board who might note the discrepancy between the old and new versions of her.
But no one called the room.No one knocked on the door to check on her or ask if she wanted to attend an evening show or go to one of the clubs to dance the night away.By the time she woke up this final morning of the cruise, Ash knew that she should probably feel a pang of sadness for Camille and the solitary life she’d led right up until it ended.But that wasn’t really part of her constitution.The best Ash could do was note that, at least in her last moments, Camille thought she’d made a new friend.
Ash decided there wasoneway that she could acknowledge the woman who had made her return stateside possible, she would spend a little time appreciating the ship on her hostess’s dime.If Camille couldn’t enjoy a beautiful morning on the pool deck of the Jamboree, then Ash would do it for her.
She sipped her coffee, luxuriated in the cool morning air, and stared into the distance as the California coast grew closer with each passing moment.Very soon she’d be back in America.
Then the real fun would start.
CHAPTER TWO
Five Weeks Ago
Hannah Dorsey woke up with a start.
Her head was resting on a table and her cheek was soaked in a puddle of drool.It took her a moment to process where she was.But then it all came flooding back.
She was in the UC Irvine Medical Center cafeteria, where she’d spent many of her waking hours of late.That’s because this was where Finn Anderton was, unconscious in a hospital bed two floors above where she now sat.
Finn, who attended UC Irvine as a freshman with Hannah and was her friend and almost something more, had been stabbed multiple times in a campus parking lot nearly three weeks ago.The doctors said that if he hadn’t been discovered by another student walking by who was training to be an EMT, he never would have made it to the hospital alive.
But alive was one thing.Conscious was something else entirely.And in the three weeks that he’d been here, he’d never even stirred.Hannah couldn’t get any answers on what Finn’s prognosis was, partly because she wasn’t officially family, but mostly because the doctors didn’t seem tohaveany definitive answers.
But Hannah kept coming.Nearly every evening after class, she’d visit the hospital.Finn’s family, who lived in nearby Newport Beach, was initially thrown by the constant presence of the young woman who was not his girlfriend, though he had clearly wished that she would eventually be.
It was only after a nurse told them that she was the sister of celebrated LAPD criminal profiler Jessie Hunt, who had offered the resources of her the department to catch Finn’s attacker, that they relented and let her sit in his room from time to time.
The investigation into Finn’s attack was being handled by the Irvine Police Department.But since the perpetrator had not been found, Jessie had pulled some strings to make sure there was an armed hospital guard outside Finn’s room at all times.
Jessie had also hired someone from a personal security firm she’d used in the past to keep an eye on Hannah.There were no witnesses to Finn’s stabbing and no surveillance cameras in the campus parking lot where it had happened.As a result, there was concern that the killer might return to finish the job before Finn potentially woke up and identified them.And there was no telling who they might hurt to get to him again.
That’s where Gila Jabarin came in.The woman was a former Israeli Special Forces soldier who used to be in that country’s elite counter-terrorism Oketz Unit before moving on to their special forces “Red Unit.”She’d protected Hannah in the past and was assigned to do so again.
By and large, she kept her distance, observing from afar and only getting close when there were crowds around or when Hannah was in tight quarters.Right now, the petite thirty-something woman with olive skin, black hair, and a compact, muscular frame was seated at a table across the cafeteria, her dark eyes alert as she pretended to pick at a salad.
Hannah appreciated her sister’s efforts, especially since she had coordinated the protection while dealing with some serious personal issues of her own.But no amount of security at the hospital, and no offers of assistance from the LAPD to help with the case did anything to mitigate Hannah’s guilt.
She sat up at the cafeteria table, grabbed a napkin, and wiped the saliva from her cheek.Glancing at the time, she saw that it was 7:57 P.M.The security guard switchover would take place at eight, and she liked to be there when it happened, to ensure that no one with ill intent slipped by during the transition.
She picked up her tray and walked it over to the conveyer belt that took them out of sight, like unclaimed luggage at a baggage claim carousel.As she made her way down the hall to the elevators, her last conversation with Finn popped into her head.
It had been more of an argument than a conversation.He was talking smack about the guy she’d been hanging out with, a sophomore named Dallas Henry.Hannah had called him out, reminding him that her romantic life was no longer his business and basically accusing him of stalking her.
It was kind of true.When things had fizzled between them, Finn got increasingly obsessive, showing up near her classes when he had none nearby, and fixating on Dallas as being unworthy of her attention.
But in retrospect, she’d been far harsher on him than he deserved.She still remembered how, after ripping into him on campus one day, she’d turned and walked off, never even bothering to look back.Finn was stabbed later that same night.
Hannah stepped into the elevator, suspiciously eyeing the orderly who gave her a friendly smile as she focused on her thoughts.The doors were about to close when Jabarin slid her hand in to block it.Without making eye contact with Hannah, she moved into the corner of the elevator, where she stood behind both her and the orderly.
