Allison Brennan - Killing Fear

“Small consolation for having two dead kids,” Carina said.

A knock on the door interrupted their conversation, and Officer Diaz reentered. “Detective, here’s the reports on those six women you needed sheets for.”

“And?”

“Only one person has a record. Jane Plummer. She was arrested ten years ago for possession, given probation. Then nine years ago she was arrested for possession with intent. Again, probation. I talked to the arresting officer and he said her boyfriend was the bad guy, not her, but she was scared of him and wouldn’t talk. They threw the guy in prison for six months, gave her probation.”

“What was his name?”

“Javier Rodriguez.”

“And where is he?”

“Dead. Overdosed six years ago.”

“What do you think?” Will asked, glancing at Jane’s record. Fairly innocuous, and she’d been clean since Rodriguez OD’d.

“I think she’s a good bet,” Vigo said. “She’s already been in one possibly abusive relationship. Definitely check her out, and I’ll see if we can dig deeper on our end.”

“Excuse me,” Carina said. “I get that these women could be cowed by Glenn. But what I don’t understand is how he could have prepared for this. I mean, he didn’t cause the earthquake. He took advantage of an opportunity. What you’re saying is that he’s had something planned for a long time.”

Hans nodded. “Good observation, Detective Kincaid. I suspect that he has been planning an escape, though not from San Quentin. He has requested three transfers through his law firm that have all been denied. But two months ago he was severely beaten by a prison gang. He filed again, and the plea was pending in front of a sympathetic judge. I suspect that if he were going to escape, it would have been during a transfer, with help from the outside. A long shot, but definitely more plausible than planning an escape from San Quentin.

“I’m sure you haven’t forgotten that Theodore Glenn is a wealthy man. While his finances have been watched carefully, he’s an attorney and most of the people working in the court system are only looking for big red flags. I believe he made financial provisions in case he was arrested. He would have hidden a substantial amount of money. And my guess is that one of these women is the key to that money pool.”

“I’ll call Doug up in e-crimes and see if he can track down the finances of Glenn’s law firm,” Will said, making a note.

Carina asked, “But why didn’t he run after Brandi Bell was killed? Why take the risk of killing Jessica and Anna?”

Will answered. “For the thrill. He wanted to get away with it, he wanted to rub our noses in our own mistakes. Taking the picture of Frank sleeping-that was arrogance. His intelligence trumping the cops’.”

“Then why didn’t he use the photo during trial?” Diaz asked.

“And blow his own alibi?” Will shook his head. “Seven years ago he was a step ahead of us. He picked victims who wouldn’t elicit a lot of public sympathy. The public equates strippers with hookers. Then when he made a mistake, luck was on his side. The crime techs contaminated the evidence. But he knew he’d screwed up, and started using bleach. Not only to torture his victims, but to destroy any evidence he inadvertently left behind. I think he took the picture of Frank more for himself than for anyone else.”

“You’re right,” Vigo said, “except for the last point. He’d always planned on using that photograph, and I imagine he has more hidden. You simply stopped him before he had an opportunity.”

Carina spoke up. “We know that he dumped a stolen vehicle in Anaheim. Do you have any women from Orange County who wrote to Glenn?”

Vigo nodded and looked at his file. “Three.”

“Maybe we should check them out as well,” Carina said.

“Good call, Detective,” Agent Vigo said. “I’ll call the Orange County field office and they’ll get on it today.”

“And we’ll start on the nineteen in San Diego,” Will said.

“There’s something else you need to consider.” Vigo paused.

Will nodded. “I already have.”

Vigo raised an eyebrow.

“You were going to ask if I believed Theodore Glenn didn’t kill Anna Clark, as he told the reporter and Robin.”

Vigo nodded.

“I’ve been looking at the case files,” Will said. “If there’s another killer out there, I want to find him. But honestly, I think this is one of his tricks. It was never released to the media that Glenn used bleach on his victims. That didn’t come out until the actual trial.”

“You understand if Glenn is telling the truth, then whoever killed Anna had inside knowledge of the investigation.”

“I know,” Will said, shifting uncomfortably.

If Glenn is in fact innocent of Anna’s murder, someone I know-possibly someone I trust-killed her.

“But why?”

“That,” Vigo said quietly, “I haven’t figured out yet. I’d like to talk to Robin McKenna and everyone else involved in Glenn’s prosecution.”

“Fine,” Will said, “as long as I can ride along with you.”

“I insist, Detective. In fact, you’re the only one I’m confident didn’t kill Anna Clark.”

Robin spent Wednesday morning at the gun range, then went to the club. She nodded to Mario Medina’s man who was monitoring the entrance. She didn’t remember his name, but he was bigger than her largest bouncer and if she could afford him, she’d have hired him in a heartbeat. Just one look, and anyone with a nefarious intention would run away. Fast.

“Where’s your partner?” she asked, knowing Mario had two men on the club at all times.

“Around,” the hulking man said.

That would have to be good enough.

Having the added security made her feel better. Proactive. Not a victim any longer, but the strong, independent woman everyone thought she was.

She went back to her office to focus on work, but after kissing Will the night before, she couldn’t get him-or the day she left him-out of her mind.

It was the day after she found Anna dead. The club was closed, she couldn’t get into her apartment-not that she wanted to ever go back after what happened to Anna inside. She had nowhere to go. No one to talk to. Will was her lifeline, her strength.

He brought her to his town house on the beach after she gave a statement to the police. Though she had washed in the police bathroom, she hadn’t showered. She still felt Anna’s blood all over her, even if she couldn’t see it. Like she’d never rid the smell from her nose, the taste from her mouth, the slippery feeling from her hands.

“Shower,” he told her.

“Don’t leave me,” she begged, feeling pathetic and needy. And fearful. She didn’t like being scared.

He caressed her hair. “Never. If I could take away what you saw I would. I wish I could change everything. I’m so sorry about what happened.” He kissed her lips. So light. Loving.

“Come with me,” she said to him.

He hesitated. Just a fraction and she felt like a stupid, clinging woman. “I know you have work to do. I’ll be fine.”

“No, it’s not that. I just-are you sure?”

She nodded.

He took the ill-fitting clothes off her body. She’d had to give up her own clothing as evidence. Because she had fallen into Anna’s blood. Blood coating her body. Her hands. Her face. She hadn’t known what she had fallen on, not until she scrambled up and turned on the lights.

Then she saw…

She began to cry. “No, Robin, please don’t cry.” Will brushed away the tears with his palms, then took off his own clothes, and helped her into his shower. She sobbed and he scrubbed her body. “Harder,” she said. “Her blood is all over me.”