A Brutal Tenderness Read Free Page A

talented
are compelled to do that which they’ve been blessed with. As
is the case with Jewell, now Jess Mackey. Jewell has inserted
herself into a new environment, blending in like every other
twenty-year-old University of Washington sophomore.
She gave herself away with what to anyone else would
seem an inconsequential act: a ballet audition. But that’s what
cinched it. Now we know she’s our bird—the bait we need to
capture a psychopath.
Jewell may have proved a useless witness, unable to give us
anything we could use to pin Faith’s death on Thaddeus given
her cowardly decision to hide away in a closet while Faith lay
dying, but at least she’ll make a decent pawn. DNA evidence
had already proved inconclusive, and a convenient knot on
Thaddeus’s head, combined with a weak story about a loss of
consciousness—and mountains of Daddy’s money—saved him
from immediate scrutiny.
But I know better.
Jewell heard from the closet what was happening to Faith
and did nothing. And ultimately she hadn’t seen who was
responsible.
A few weeks before, Faith had confided to me what Jewell
had told her—that Thad has all the markers of a psychopath:
time in psych wards, torture of animals, a deep loathing of his
parents, and a decidedly unstable family life. Senator MacLeod,
domineering and displaying episodes of antisocial behavior, is
clearly not running on all cylinders himself. He’s also brilliant
at hiding his true nature.
And now Thad is missing. All our careful data collection
and obsessive observation of the family as they cocooned
themselves from scrutiny and distance from Faith’s murder is
hanging in precarious balance. Thad needs to come to justice.
For the victims. For Faith.
Our research and his combined history suggest he’s hunting
again. It doesn’t matter to me that the crime scenes here reveal
no physical evidence that Thad is the murderer. My gut never
lies. I know it’s him.
The bodies piling up in the region where Jewell MacLeod
now lives is a giveaway: Her brother is coming to visit. And
I plan to be here when he does. Son of a hopeful presidential
candidate or not, he’s going down for Faith’s murder. As for and
that stepsister of his . . . her stay of liberty is coming to an end.
Jewell won’t be able to escape from her part in all of this that
easily.
All this runs through my head in a familiar beat of
torture I put myself through almost daily as I’ve seen Jewell
now transformed into Jess. Her shy act and modest, gentle
demeanor seem to be fooling all who meet her. I can’t believe
they don’t see the entitled debutante she was, and still is, with
her professional ballet lessons, private school education, and
deeply ingrained snobbery lurking just below the surface. I
know enough from proximity to Faith to have learned about
the comings and goings of that family. Faith’s gregarious nature
had been unintentionally forthcoming. She painted a picture
of the MacLeod family in unflattering detail. FBI intel fills in
whatever holes remain.
But all that distant surveillance is coming to an end now.
I watch her as she heads into the auditorium of the
University of Washington. Obviously succumbing to the need
to stroke her own ego, she lets a guy cop a feel while he pins a
number on her thin T-shirt once she is inside. Her braids, now
gold, are secured on her head like a woven crown, the band of
her yoga pants a riot of color at her hips.
I lean back against the wall, allowing myself for the first
time to be seen by her if she chances a glance in my direction.
My eyes bore holes into her back. Turn around , I command
inside my head.
She doesn’t. Her wide blue eyes, which disguise a shade of
brilliant green, scan the auditorium. Her full lips are slightly
parted  .  .  . in what? Surprise? No. The little brat is up to
something. Why else would she decide to do this audition after
disguising herself so carefully?
Fucking stupid.
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