Page 70 of The Perfect Appearance

"No, there won't," he confirmed, "but don't be too tough on her about that. Yes, she called her boyfriend, but she thought she was being cautious, speaking to someone that Ash Pierce theoretically shouldn't have even known about. Unfortunately, she underestimated what Pierce was capable of. She won't get another phone, but even if she did, I'm confident she wouldn't make a mistake like that again. Any word on Pierce?"

Jessie shook her head.

“No,” she said. “I just spoke to Agent Dolan a few minutes ago. By the time the cops arrived at the safe house, everyone was gone. They found a Porsche two blocks away that belongs to the guy who owned the mansion where she was crashing, but there was no sign of her. They’re still doing a grid search, but between the storm and her skills at evasion, he’s not optimistic.”

“I guess we’ll just have to wait her out then,” Grover said.

“What about Kat?” Jessie asked.

“I spoke to Gila a few minutes ago,” he said, “and by ‘spoke,” I mean gave her a second dressing down. They are both at Central Station right now, watching your HSS colleagues and the SWAT unit search those Skid Row apartments for Mark Haddonfield.”

“That’s where we were planning to go as soon as I get the all clear to leave,” Ryan said. “I don’t like that I’m not there supervising it.”

“Does this mean that you’re okay with the whole ‘being captain’ thing now?” Jessie asked him.

“I’m cool with running HSS, like I used to,” he clarified. “As to overseeing an entire police station? I’m increasingly doubtful that I’m the right man for the job. In fact, I think the right man for the job might be a woman. I’ve always thought that Gaylene Parker, who runs the Vice unit, had pretty good administrative skills. But for right now, I do wish I was back at the station, making sure the Haddonfield search was running smoothly.”

“Don’t stick around on my account,” Lemmon said, sounding mildly loopy. “I’ll probably be asleep in five minutes anyway. These meds are really starting to hit.”

“Maybe we should head out then,” Jessie suggested.

“Before you go,” Lemmon asked, holding up her hand like a stop sign, “where do things stand with Eli Cullen?”

“He’s being held at Wilshire Station,” Ryan told her. “My understanding is that he’s going to be arraigned in the morning. But I think we’ve got a slam dunk here. Your testimony alone should be sufficient to put him away.”

“Maybe Marybeth Huxley, the girl he wanted to ‘date,’ can offer some useful context as well,” Lemmon suggested.

“Hopefully,” Ryan said. “I sent Wagner and Ortega your tip and they’re looking for her as we speak.”

"Part of me wants him to go to a hospital rather than prison," Lemmon said softly. "It was clear that he'd had some kind of break. I'm not sure what caused it, but he did mention some sexual abuse as a child at the hands of his foster mother. He seemed to genuinely want my help. I'm sure that's how it started with Gemma and Isabel Shea too."

“That would make sense,” Jessie agreed. “He didn’t go to any of your sessions with a weapon. In every instance, it seemed that he used what was available when things didn’t go as he hoped.”

“But what about the disguises?” Ryan asked. “That suggests premeditation.”

“Maybe,” Lemmon said, “or maybe he was just trying to hide his identity because he was ashamed for anyone, especially a doctor, to see him as he really was. He kept saying he wanted me to fix him. I think he really did. But he didn’t understand that it just doesn’t work that way. And I suspect that when we all ‘failed’ him, he decided to punish us.”

Ryan’s phone buzzed and he looked at it. Jessie watched his face sink and knew the news wasn’t good.

“What?” she asked.

“It’s a message from Ortega,” he said. “They found Marybeth Huxley. She’s dead, has been for two weeks. She was discovered in an alley near the mall where she worked. She’d been raped and murdered. The perp made it look like a mugging gone wrong. That’s how the detectives on the case marked it, at least until now.”

Everyone was quiet for a moment.

“He talked about her like she was still alive,” Lemmon finally said, “like he hoped to use the help I would give him to win her back.”

“That incident must have been when he snapped,” Jessie surmised. “He couldn’t accept what he’d done. So he went to different psychiatrists to help him win Marybeth over, convincing himself that was still possible. It was his way of keeping the truth of what he’d done at bay. But every time a therapist’s suggestions conflicted with the false reality he’d created for himself, it punctured the delusional narrative he’d established. Moreover, they were disappointing him, just as Marybeth had done. So he lashed out.”

“That sounds about right,” Lemmon said drowsily.

Jessie looked over at her. The doctor could barely keep her eyes open.

“We’ll visit you tomorrow,” she whispered.

Lemmon didn’t respond. She was out. Jessie, Ryan, and Grover quietly filed out of the room. Once the door was closed, she turned to her husband.

“Let’s get you released now,” she said. “I want to get to the station quick so we can watch the video feed. If they catch Haddonfield, I want to see it live.”

---