Allison Brennan - Killing Fear

Gloves on, Will walked the crime scene. Jim’s desk had a half-eaten bowl of soup and near-empty beer bottle on it. The workspace was clear. Would Jim have sat down at his desk to eat dinner? Will doubted it, unless he’d been working on something. Something related to this case.

Something that a killer didn’t want anyone else to see. Something, maybe, that Jim had called him about earlier.

I wanted to bounce a couple ideas off you. No rush, call me in the morning.

Why hadn’t Will called him back? Or stopped by his house? Jim wasn’t even supposed to be working the Anna Clark case. They’d agreed to bury it until Glenn was caught. It was supposed to be business as usual so as not to tip-off Anna’s killer.

Agent Hans Vigo entered the room. “I’m sorry,” he said. The man looked much older than his fortysome years, weary and gray. “I didn’t think Anna’s killer would come after Jim.”

“It wasn’t Glenn.” Will stated the obvious.

Vigo shook his head. “Jim wouldn’t have opened the door to him. I had a message from Jim thirty minutes before he was killed. He had a theory he wanted to run by me.”

“Same here,” Will said. “He said he’d talk to me in the morning.”

“His theory died with him.” Vigo looked at the bare desk, frowning.

“How could this happen? No one-except for Chief Causey, Trinity, and Carina-knew we’d concluded Glenn hadn’t killed Anna. I watched the tape of Trinity’s broadcast several times and she emphatically stated that the case was closed. We didn’t put anything in writing.”

“We don’t know what Jim may have said or done,” Hans reminded him. “He’d obviously been working on it, since he wanted to talk to both of us. Perhaps he called the wrong person. We need his phone records ASAP: from home, his cell phone, and his desk at the lab.”

“Jim is responsible. He wouldn’t have let anything leak.”

“You don’t have to defend him,” Hans said. “I’m not accusing him of anything. Maybe he didn’t say or do anything, it could have been something he didn’t say or do that made our killer suspect something was wrong. We don’t know.”

“If Jim had an answer, he wouldn’t have left a message. He would have hunted one of us down,” Will said, trying to alleviate the pang of guilt over Jim’s murder. “We need to backtrack, find out exactly what Jim was doing, what he was working on, who he spoke with yesterday, phone records, everything.”

“Are you going to be okay on this?” Hans asked. “He was a friend.”

“I’m okay.” Okay to work the case, but he’d never get the picture of Jim’s dead body out of his mind. “The Sheriff’s Department is going to handle the evidence. I told our criminalists it was protocol, though we rarely use it.”

“In light of what we’ve been working on, that’s wise. And I can have my people put a rush on the phone records. We should have something in a few hours.”

“But first things first,” Will said. “Maybe the killer made a mistake. He didn’t have a lot of time to clear out Jim’s office. The sheriff’s criminalists may find something we can use.”

“And if that fails,” Will added, “we interview every crime scene investigator who’s been on staff since Anna Clark’s homicide.”

When Will came back to Robin’s apartment it was after four in the morning, but she hadn’t slept much.

Robin had never seen Will looking so weary. He was beyond tired, but more than that his sad eyes registered defeat.

“What happened?”

“Jim is dead.”

“Jim? The same Jim who was in my loft this morning?”

Will nodded.

“I thought-we hadn’t heard from Glenn in two days, I thought maybe he’d left the country.”

“Glenn didn’t kill him.”

“I don’t understand. Was there an accident?”

Will took her arm and moved her to the couch. She sat, taking his hands. “What happened?”

“Jim was killed at his home tonight. I screwed up big-time.” Will shook his head, trying to make sense of the senseless. “That whole thing with Trinity this afternoon, trying to divert Anna’s killer, to lead him into thinking we weren’t reopening the case-it didn’t work. In fact, it may have pushed the killer into action.” He ran a hand through his hair and leaned back on the couch, closing his eyes. “Jim was a friend.”

Robin squeezed Will’s hand. “I’m so sorry. How do you know it wasn’t Glenn? Maybe he saw the newscast and was angry that the case wasn’t being reopened.”

“We considered that, except that Jim opened the door to his killer. No sign of force. It was someone he knew. Someone he trusted. His home office was cleared out. I don’t know exactly what Jim had with him, but clearly whoever killed Anna thought he’d found something incriminating.”

“You need to get some sleep.”

“I can’t. I’ll grab a couple hours later. I need to get down to the station and retrace Jim’s steps. I got word on my way over here that Jim left work early. That guy never leaves early. If someone was watching him, that might seem suspicious. I won’t know until I find out who spoke to him, what he said, what they saw. But what really makes this truly the worst case of my life-I know the killer. It’s someone I’ve worked with, someone I would also open the door to without hesitation. How could I work with a murderer for years and not know it?”

Robin put her head on his shoulder and Will’s hand went automatically to her hair. “I know exactly what you mean,” Robin whispered.

They rested for a few long minutes and Robin thought for sure Will had fallen asleep. She debated waking him, knowing he had work to do, but also knowing he needed at least two hours sleep just to function.

He wasn’t sleeping. He said, “I wish I didn’t have to go.”

“Me, too.”

He sighed, tilted her head to kiss her. “But I’ll talk to you later, let you know what’s going on.”

She nodded. “Take care of yourself, Will.”

“Sure,” he said without conviction, then left.

For three hours, Will almost forgot about Theodore Glenn. He and Hans worked side by side reviewing security tapes of the time that Jim Gage left the lab, poring over his e-mails, and waiting for preliminary evidence reports. Two detectives, Hazelwood and Dominguez, were working with them. Causey said they could have anyone else they needed.

Carina came in at seven thirty looking as crappy as Will felt. At the same time, Doug from e-crimes ran into the bull pen. “Hooper! I got something.”

“I hope it’s a break.”

“Property owned by North Bay Law Offices in Rancho Santa Margarita. Bought a year ago-the same month that Sara Lorenz began renting out her house downtown.”

Will sent Hazelwood and Dominguez to the bank to meet with the manager regarding the corporate accounts linked to Sara Lorenz and the law firm, then immediately sent a patrol and backup to the house. Will followed with Carina and Hans, calling SWAT to stand by in case they ascertained that Glenn was on the property.

The house was large, on a half acre in the gated community of Rancho Santa Margarita. Will noted that it was on the same street as Bryce Descario’s house. Had Glenn been watching the other night when they stormed that house based on the note Glenn had left for Will?

He glanced at Hans and knew the Fed was thinking the same thing.

Will motioned for four men to cover the back, and when they were in place Will pounded on the front door, gun out.

“San Diego Police Department!”

No answer.

He nodded to the two cops who had a ramming iron to break down the door. He nodded at Carina to go low.

As soon as the door was open, a piercing alarm went off.