Allison Brennan - Killing Fear

“What happened?”

“Six bullets in a gang shooting. Fortunately the kid was a lousy shot and missed all major organs. But my left knee’s all plastic and metal now.”

“Who’s the girl?”

Hank didn’t take his eyes off Will. “You tell me.” His casual stance as he eased onto a stool belied his probing stare.

Will gave a half smile. “I heard she was here. I need to give her some bad news.”

“You think she doesn’t know that bastard escaped from prison?”

“Good point.” He especially didn’t want to talk to Robin with an audience. He needed to regroup, to harden his heart.

“Has he been spotted in town?” Hank asked. He didn’t have to say Glenn’s name for Will to know who he meant.

“Not yet.”

“I trained her myself. She’s a good shot.”

“I can see that.” And that saddened Will on many levels.

“Why don’t I introduce you to her? Might make any other news-or lack thereof-easier on the girl. She’s been through hell.”

“I know.” He stared at the man. “I arrested Theodore Glenn.”

Suddenly, Hank’s face hardened. What had Robin told him? Was Robin involved with this guy? Emotionally? Physically? A streak of jealousy ran through Will, and he squelched it. He had no claims on Robin. Not anymore. Maybe not even seven years ago.

“Why don’t we just pretend you never stopped by?” Hank Solano said, his voice low and vibrating with a restrained anger.

“Good idea.” Will started for the door.

Hank had the last word.

“Find that bastard, then stay the hell out of her life.”

“Mom, please be careful,” Sherry said to her mother over the phone as she nervously glanced at the clock. It was one fifty. At two o’clock every afternoon, Sherry walked four blocks to her daughter’s school. The bell rang at two fifteen and Sherry never wanted six-year-old Ashley to have to wait, to wonder if her mother forgot.

Especially today.

“Sherry, sweetheart, Theodore would never hurt us. He couldn’t hurt anyone. It was just a big mistake.”

For nearly seven years, Carl and Dorothy Glenn had been saying the same thing. There was a mistake. Theodore wouldn’t hurt a fly. It was all just a big misunderstanding.

And for nearly seven years, Sherry had tried to convince them that yes, in fact, their son and her brother had killed four women, that the police had been right to arrest him, and she had been right to testify against him.

Her brother had shown a far darker side to her than to anyone else in their family.

“Mom, you don’t know what he’s capable of. Don’t let him in the house. Promise me you’ll call the police if he shows up.”

“The police have already been here. They have a police car down the street. What will the neighbors think?”

It was useless trying to convince her mother that Theodore was anything but an angel. “I need to pick up Ashley. I’ll call you tonight. Please don’t let him in the house.”

“I’m sure he’ll turn himself in. He just wants to set the record straight,” Dorothy Glenn said.

Sherry couldn’t take any more of this conversation. “’Bye, Mom.” She hung up, angry and sad. She just wanted her parents to see who Theodore was-the person he really was. It wasn’t their fault they only saw good in their son. Carl and Dorothy were loving parents. Gave their children everything they could without spoiling them. A nice house, good neighborhood, a top school. Paid for two college educations and Theodore’s law school.

Why couldn’t they see the monster in Theodore? Sherry did. Her entire life she’d walked on eggshells around her brother. Testifying for the prosecution had been cathartic. Telling the world that she’d always known he was bad. He’d hurt Sherry for the sole purpose of hurting her. Because he could.

Most of her testimony had been thrown out. The most difficult thing she’d ever done in her life-harder even than getting clean after years of drug use-was facing Theodore in that court and telling the jury how he had tormented her when they were younger. About the time he’d broken her kitten’s neck in front of her.

Crying, he’d told their parents it was an accident.

But Sherry had watched him squeeze the life out of Muffin. She’d heard the snap of breaking bones. She’d buried the poor creature’s little body in the backyard and cried. Sherry had cried not only for the helpless dead animal, but because no one would believe her.

It was an accident, Theodore sobbed.

He did it on purpose! Sherry screamed.

He’d played everyone so well. Everyone but her. And he relished that only she had seen his true nature. Played with her, tormenting her until she ran away from home just to get away from him . She’d been branded a problem child and was in and out of juvenile homes. None of it was fun, but it was better than living with her brother.

At his trial, Theodore had objected. Nothing she said had any relevance to the murders. And the judge agreed with him. Did she have firsthand information about the murders? No, she didn’t. The nice woman from the District Attorney’s office insisted that Sherry’s testimony was important because it went to Theodore’s character. The judge didn’t agree.

Theodore had called their parents to the stand. They told the court what a wonderful child Theodore had been. A straight-A student. Graduated top in his law school. Kind, thoughtful, a good son.

“He never gave us any trouble,” her father had said to the jury.

The D.A. refused to cross-examine, and Ms. Chandler told her later that it would do more damage to their case if they went after two elderly parents than if they simply let the testimony stand. “They’re not lying,” Ms. Chandler said. “They believe every word they said, and anything I do or ask will only make us seem heartless to the jury.”

At the time, Sherry had never been so scared in her life. She’d been so certain the jury would acquit. Who wouldn’t believe Carl and Dorothy Glenn? They were good people. So good they couldn’t see the bad in anyone. Until Theodore was convicted, Sherry had planned to change her name and flee California. Go somewhere her brother couldn’t find her.

Because Sherry knew Theodore would kill her.

Two-oh-two. She had to go. It seemed ridiculous to drive four blocks to the school. A waste of gas. She’d always loved her walk, the time alone with Ashley listening to her talk nonstop about her day and her teacher and friends.

But she was scared. Her car seemed so much safer than walking. If she saw her brother, she’d run him down.

Sherry grabbed her purse and went out to the garage. Her hand automatically went to the garage door opener and pressed it.

Nothing happened. She heard the mewling of a kitten. Sherry didn’t have a cat. She’d never been able to have another pet, not after what Theodore did.

The neighbors next door had a cat.

“Hello, Sherry.” In the dim light, Theodore smiled. He was wedged between two boxes. He’d probably overheard Sherry’s entire conversation with their mother.

Her face froze, then her bottom lip trembled. He watched her face closely as he broke the neck of the animal with a quick movement of his hands, the snap surprisingly sharp.

Eyes wide, terrified, Sherry’s scream came out too high-pitched to be heard by anyone outside the garage. She stepped toward the kitchen door.

Theodore acted fast. He probably shouldn’t have played with his sister, but it had been fun. He took no pleasure in killing the animal, but he enjoyed the reaction he caused. When he’d killed Sherry’s furry little pet all those years ago, he’d laughed at her anguish. But what was truly the most fun was digging up the dead cat and putting it in her bed. Her scream then was even better than the pathetic yelp today.