Page 114 of Breaking Free

“I’ve been replaying our conversation and the notes he wrote over and over in my mind. Vile, filthy, contemptuous things—slut, whore, Jezebel. This was more than an obsession with me. He seemed angry at women.” Piper felt an odd sense of detachment while she reasoned it out, as if in a dream, a coping mechanism, so she didn’t completely lose it, no doubt. “I can’t fathom how he worked for Hunter so long, masking his contempt while completely deranged.”

Tristan gripped her hand more firmly but couldn’t keep it from shaking.

“You’re right about his anger at women,” Christian agreed. “And the more we uncover his past, the more we understand how much so.”

“Explain,” Tristan demanded.

“Born Morton Frick, he changed his name when he came to Hollywood to make it big—

”

“No wonder,” someone commented.

When the murmurs of agreement subsided, Christian continued. “He grew up in small-town, USA, in a place called Leon, Iowa.”

Again, Piper gasped.

Tristan’s head whipped toward her. “You’ve heard of it?”

“It’s not far from where I was born and raised. Less than thirty miles.”

“And about seventy miles from Des Moines,” Lloyd added for reference. “I called the Decatur County sheriff, who filledme in on young Morton and his family. He was raised in a strict household. His mother was a homemaker, and his father a preacher.”

“This sounds eerily familiar,” Piper whispered.

“Too much so,” Tristan agreed, gripping her hand tighter.

“Perry’s father passed away when he was only fourteen. His mother went off the deep end a little. She never had a job outside the home, and they struggled financially, trying to make it on Morgan’s social security survivors’ benefits. His mother made his clothes and cut his hair, trying to make ends meet, and it showed. The kids weren’t kind.”

“You mean he was bullied,” Keiran clarified.

“Mercilessly, according to the sheriff. He had few friends outside of the drama club, which he did on the sly because Mom thought TV and movies were the work of the devil and anyone in Hollywood was morally corrupt and going to hell. But she found out, stormed into the auditorium in the middle of a performance, and dragged him off stage. Everyone in town was talking about it for weeks. It made the bullying worse, as you can imagine. Morton hung around until graduation then, in defiance of his mother, took off for the glitz and glamour of Hollywood anyway.”

Amused by his colleague’s turn of phrase, Christian repeated, a chuckle in his voice, “Glitz and glamour?”

Lloyd turned his notes toward him. “That’s a direct quote from Sherriff Walmsley.”

“Just checking,” Christian replied with a smirk.

“Can we get back to the case?” Tristan interjected, clearly displeased with the unnecessary commentary.

“Right, sorry. I talked to Hunter Ainsley and several others on the project,” he continued, serious again. “They all described him as quiet and reserved, although a little odd, but they were all shocked by his actions.”

“It sounds like the quote you always hear from neighbors on the six o’clock news.It’s always the quiet ones,” Piper observed. “I want to know why he picked me!”

“Remember how I said you might have just caught his eye?” Tristan gently reminded her. “You were outside his window every day, and then you walked into his work life and became his obsession.”

“Tristan is right on target. You were the opportunity,” Lloyd explained. “Knowing his history, Perry’s motive is fairly easy to figure out. Acting wasn’t working out for him, but he stayed in the business, clinging to the hope he’d one day catch a break. Watching others succeed where he couldn’t, sparked envy and resentment. Not to mention the internal struggle with the values instilled in him during his upbringing. His fragile psyche reached its breaking point.”

“Enter Piper,” Christian concluded. “A small-town preacher’s kid like him who achieved instant success.”

“It wasn’t instant. I got plenty of rejections,” Piper said, wanting to set the record straight.

“That may be true, but Perry saw it differently,” Tristan interjected. “Think about his comments about your clothing.”

“And my whorish ways,” she murmured, shutting her eyes. Seeing her and Tristan kissing on the front porch and in bed together escalated things.

“None of this is your fault.” He squeezed her fingers, trying to make her see that. “You just had the misfortune of entering his sphere.”

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