Robert Browne - Kill Her Again

Worthington nodded. “That’s what I told her, but she’s a sensitive woman. Seeing this kid go through so much is tough for her. Stirs up a lot of bad memories.”

“I can imagine.”

“Truth is, she still blames herself for what happened to Ben.”

Anna was surprised. “Why?”

“She’s a nurse,” Worthington said. “She thinks she should have seen the signs of Susan’s illness. God knows Susan and Ben were at the house enough in those last few weeks.”

“I won’t pretend to know all the details, but Ronnie’s no more to blame for that than you are. Or Pope.”

“Hopefully she’ll see that one day.”

He paused, lost in a memory, and Anna knew that he was deeply in love with his wife. He was a good man. And despite the toughness of his exterior, he was as sensitive as Ronnie was.

After a moment, he said, “I think I owe you an apology.”

“For what?”

“While you were under, I said some pretty crappy things. Practically accused you of being a scam artist.”

“Relax,” Anna said. “I was too far gone to hear you. And if I were on your end, I’d probably think the same thing.”

Worthington seemed to struggle with a thought, then said, “I’ve never admitted this to anyone, but I’m not as much of a hard-core realist as I pretend to be. That story I told you about the cats? I was as scared as the rest of those guys. Maybe more.”

“I think I already knew that.”

His eyebrows raised. “Oh? How?”

“Based on what you told me back at the Fairweather house. That when you work a crime scene long enough, the victims start to talk to you. A hard-core realist wouldn’t even think to say something like that.”

He smiled. “Looks like I’m busted.”

She shrugged. “I’m a trained investigator.”

“I used to think I was, too, until I saw what happened between you and Evan. There’s no training on earth that can prepare you for something like that. I could chalk it up to a couple of nutcases feeding off each other, but I know that isn’t true.”

Now Anna smiled. “Welcome to the dark side.”

Worthington held a hand up in protest. “I’m not quite there yet. Just dipping my toes in. But do me a favor and don’t tell Pope. I hate it when he gloats.”

“Your secret is safe,” Anna said.

“Good. Because what I’m about to tell him is gonna knock him sideways.”

Her smile disappeared. “What do you mean?”

His gaze shifted and he nodded toward the hospital. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

She turned and saw Pope exiting through the automatic doors, looking a bit glazed, undoubtedly another victim of the blame game.

He came up to the open passenger window. “Ronnie’s sticking around for a while. I’m thinking maybe I should, too.”

“Can’t do that, Cuz. We’ve got someplace to be.”

“Why? What’s going on?”

“Something I found out before all the craziness started. Climb in and I’ll tell you on the way.”

“What about Evan?”

“Ronnie’ll do what needs to be done. Now, come on, get in.”

Pope reluctantly opened the door and climbed in, pulling the seat belt across his chest. He turned, looking at Anna.

“You feeling okay?”

“I’ve been better,” she said, which was probably the under-statement of the last few centuries.

“I don’t know what happened today, but you scared the shit out of me.”

“Out of all of us,” Worthington said.

Anna grinned. “Glad to be of service.”

They were on the I-15, headed toward the state line, when Pope said to Worthington, “You wanna tell me what you’re up to?”

Even with the air conditioner on, the late-afternoon heat was oppressive, and Anna was slumped in back, struggling to stay awake. A month in a feather bed would be bliss, she thought. With a nice ocean breeze and an unlimited supply of ice-cold tea.

Worthington glanced at Pope. “You look a little nervous, Cuz.”

“That’s because you’re headed in exactly the opposite direction that I want to be traveling right now.”

“Don’t worry, this doesn’t have a thing to do with those two goons we’ve got locked up. I couldn’t care less about them at the moment.”

“Then where are we going?”

“To see Susan.”

Anna could almost hear the scratch of the record. She sat up, fully awake. She couldn’t see his face, but she could tell by the sudden stiffness of Pope’s body that he wasn’t happy. And the heat radiating from him had little to do with the desert sun.

“Are you trying to be funny?” he asked. “Because there’s not a fucking thing funny about what you just said.”

“Just hear me out,” Worthington told him. “While you two were in the living room, I ran Jillian Carpenter’s name through the system and came up with a major hit. The girl was ten years old, murdered by an unknown assailant in Salcedo, California, back in 1981.”

Pope looked surprised. “Salcedo?”

“That’s what I said.” Worthington reached into his shirt pocket and brought out a folded sheet of paper. “I wasn’t able to get access to the full file, so the details are sketchy, but take a look at this.”

Pope took it from him. “What is it?”

“A list of witnesses who were interviewed by the Salcedo police.”

“And?” Pope said.

“Look at the first name on the list.”

Pope unfolded the paper and read the name, his entire body going rigid. He seemed unable to speak.

“What’s wrong?” Anna asked. “Who is it?”

They flew past a highway sign that read:

WOMEN’S CORRECTIONAL FACILITY-10 MILES.

“Suzie,” Worthington said. “Aka Susan Leah Oliver.”

Anna felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise. The little girl in that alley with Jillian Carpenter was Pope’s ex-wife.

“ Turn around. Now.”

Pope’s mind was reeling. How could this be? He’d been married to Susan for over eight years and had dated her for four prior to that. How could he not know that she’d once witnessed her best friend’s kidnapping?

This was a mistake. It had to be. “You’re the one who opened this bag of pretzels,” Jake said. “We’ve got a perp out there who likes to kill little girls. And it looks as if he’s been doing it for nearly thirty years. If Susan can shed any light on-”

“Turn this fucking car around.”

“You want to run away from this? Fine. There’s the goddamn door. But don’t expect me to slow down.”

“Then you talk to her. I don’t want to have anything to do with that bitch.”

“Oh? Is that why you’ve got a room overlooking the goddamn prison?”

“That’s as close as I ever want to get without a gun in my hand.”

And he meant it, too. One of his biggest fantasies was to walk up to her in that prison yard and whisper, “This is for Ben,” right before he pulled the trigger.

It made him sick to his stomach to think he’d ever touched that woman, or allowed her to touch him. Their entire history together had been tainted by her compulsive need for attention and the vicious acts it fueled.

The damage she had done was irreversible. Unforgivable. And he wanted nothing to do with her.

Twelve years’ worth of lies was more than enough.

Susan had moved to Ludlow from Salcedo in her junior year of high school. The shy girl who sat in the back of class. Who quietly ate French apple pie in the corner booth at the Hungry Spoon.

They didn’t become romantic until many years later, when they bumped into each other at the University of Nevada. Susan was working as a research assistant and Pope was guest lecturing.

The shy girl had turned into an equally shy but beautiful woman, and Pope felt the testosterone kick in the moment he saw her. It took him a while to convince her to go out with him, but she finally relented. It wasn’t until that first date that he noticed a slight limp in her gait.