“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.
“Take care of that!” Will shouted to one of the cops. Gun out, he scanned the entries, staircase, and corners. He motioned for the officers behind him to take different rooms. The first floor was cleared quickly.
“There’s a broken computer in the den,” someone shouted.
Cautious but quick, Will led the way upstairs. Cops fanned out to check each room.
“Detective!”
Will walked down the wide hall to double doors leading into the master bedroom.
Blood spatter grotesquely decorated the room, arcs of blood on the ceiling and walls surrounding the queen-size bed where a woman-who Will imagined had been Sara Lorenz-lay shredded. A knife protruded from the bed next to the body.
“Everyone out until the crime unit clears it,” Will said after two cops searched the room to make sure no one was hiding. He stood in the middle of the room with Hans and Carina. “He killed her in a rage,” Will said, almost to himself.
“It seems very disorganized,” Hans concurred. “Violent. With his other victims it wasn’t as personal. I wonder if she said or did something that specifically upset him.”
“Like threaten to turn him in?” Carina suggested.
“Maybe he thought she had,” Will said. “Or he no longer needed her.” He looked closely at the blood surrounding the body. “She’s been dead for several hours. The blood is starting to dry.”
“It looks like rigor mortis has set in,” Hans said, “though without fully inspecting the body it’s hard to say how long. But at least eight hours, probably closer to twelve. The coroner should be able to give us a good estimate. Were there any other properties your e-crimes team uncovered?”
“No,” Will said. “Not in California. Doug’s searching Arizona, Nevada, and fanning out from there.”
“If this was his only safe place, why kill her and leave?” Carina wondered.
“He’s moving forward on his plan,” Hans said, “whatever it is he’s planned next.”
They slowly walked through the crime scene waiting for the investigators. In the bathroom doorway, Will said, “He showered. He showered right here after killing her.” Towels with blood lay on the floor, and a facecloth tinged with pink hung over the shower spout.
Hans said, “This definitely doesn’t fit Glenn’s pattern.”
“Because of the overkill?” Will asked.
“Because it doesn’t appear that he tortured her, at least not like his previous victims. He stabbed her to death, but it looks like it happened in rapid fashion, few defensive wounds. From everything you’ve told me about Glenn, he doesn’t get angry.”
“Unless he perceives someone as betraying him,” Will said. “Like in court. He lashed out at everyone because he didn’t believe he would be convicted.”
“Therefore,” Hans concluded, “everyone had betrayed him. Everyone lied.”
“Sara,” Will mumbled, “what were you doing with a killer?”
“Will,” Carina said quietly. She stood on the far side of the bed.
He looked and saw what she’d found on the nightstand. An open letter addressed to him.
William:
I had an epiphany of sorts. Perhaps it came from realizing that I, the master manipulator, was being manipulated himself. Or perhaps from the realization that we were both duped.
I didn’t kill Anna Clark. I don’t care whether you believe me or not, at least not anymore. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about this and now realize where I went wrong. What about you?
Do you know who killed Anna? Do you know why? When you find out, take out an ad. In Spanish. Because by then I’ll be fluent.
By the time you read this, I’ll be in Mexico. I wish I could see your face right now.
I will be back. Tomorrow? The next day? Next year? You won’t know until it’s too late.
I’ve decided, William, who will live and who will die.
Aren’t you dying to know what I’m going to do?
Aren’t you dying to know when I’m going to do it?
“He couldn’t have crossed the border,” Will said.
Hans didn’t say anything.
“Hans, you said it was covered.”
“The border is a big stretch of land. If we can’t keep thousands of people from illegally crossing the border into California, it’s doubly hard to keep track of who’s going south. All Border Patrol agents have his photo and description. They are on high alert here and in Calexico and every point in between, but you know as well as I do that it’s easy to cross the border almost anywhere.”
“He’s lying,” Will said. “He’s lying so we let our guard down. Get complacent.” But even as he said it, he wasn’t sure Glenn was lying. It would fit in with his sick mind to taunt them and disappear.
“He might be lying. Let me call my people and see what I can find out.” Hans left the room.
“Are you okay?” Carina asked.
“Dammit, Carina, he’s playing with us. The letters, the calls.”
“He wants to put you on the edge, to push you into being reckless.”
“I’m going to get him. He’s going back to prison, Carina.”
Or he’s going to be dead.
Crossing the border had been easier than Theodore had planned. He made sure that a camera caught him because he wanted William to know that he had eluded the cops.
Now he sat in a bar in a small village south of Tijuana and planned what to do.
On his way south he’d driven by Robin’s loft. Early, well before the sun rose.
He’d parked several blocks away, in a car that couldn’t be traced to him. When the cops learned about his connection to Sara Lorenz, they may eventually trace her to his phony law corporation and through that discover the truth about his legal payments. The trail was long and deep, it would take them weeks to put it all together, but eventually they would figure it out. By that time, if everything went according to plan, both Robin and William would be dead and Theodore long, long gone.
If he hadn’t needed the safe house that Sara provided, he’d have left days before. Now he couldn’t go back, but that was okay. He had a plan and it was going to work. The anticipation excited him.
He’d pulled out his binoculars and trained them at Robin’s windows. The lights were on. Can’t sleep, Robin? Scared of the boogeyman? Theodore grinned.
You should be scared. You should be very, very afraid.
When she passed by the window, he could only make out her figure, a dark, curvy shadow against the light. But there was no mistaking that body. He adjusted the binoculars, but the light in the loft made it difficult to see her expression. Frustrated, he left.
All the way down to Mexico he’d remembered her in the loft. Seeing her again made him want to control her. Just like he’d controlled
her when she stripped onstage. Robin may never have realized it, but she was focused solely on him every time he walked into RJ’s. She loathed him, despised that he slept with half the girls who worked there. Yet she watched him, knew where he sat in the audience, monitored who he flirted with and how well he tipped the other dancers.
Yes, he had always been in control of Robin McKenna whether she admitted it or not. And now, he still controlled her. She’d hired a bodyguard because of him. She closed her business because of him. She couldn’t sleep because of him. William would tell her he’d disappeared in Mexico and she would change her entire life, her routine, because she’d never know when he would return.
He relished his power over her.
Send her a postcard now and again. Tell her he was coming…picture her as she was now, scared and nervous, watching over her shoulder.
If he had more time, he would stay in Mexico for months. Maybe a year. Wait for Robin to relax. Then-pounce.
He wanted to enjoy her squirming beneath his gaze. He wanted to watch her face while he tortured and killed her lover. He wanted to stare into her eyes as she watched the blood drain slowly from William’s body. To hear her beg. To listen to her pleas.
What would she do, what would she say, to save him? Would she finally admit that he controlled her? That he had the power? Theodore would find out soon.
Impatience clawed at him. He looked around the cheap dive Mexican bar he’d staked a seat in after the old folks dropped him off across the border. Too easy.
He drained his beer and motioned for the pretty little chica to bring him another.
His plan was rather brilliant, but he expected nothing less of himself. He just needed a little time for the police to move on to other cases. Crime didn’t stop, and once they proved he’d left the country, they’d have to let it go.
Robin had it in her little mind that she was a big, tough woman, yet she was nothing but a scared, aging stripper whose only power was her body.
When he had Juliet, Romeo would follow.
The Latina babe put the beer in front of him. “Gracias,” he said and smiled.
The girl beamed. She swung her hips seductively as she moved back behind the bar. One of the men glowered at him as he watched the show. Theodore stared back. The man averted his eyes. The chica kept glancing over at Theodore. He winked.
It would be nice to have sex with that hot little chica, no strings attached. Maybe he’d have a place to stay while he secured his money and worked out the details of his plan to kill William and Robin.
He smiled. He was getting away with murder and it felt good.
THIRTY-THREE
The coroner had just gone inside Sara Lorenz’s house, and Will was about to follow, when Hans waved him over. “Glenn is telling the truth. He’s in Mexico.”
“That’s fucked. How?”
“Drove across into Tijuana at eight forty-two this morning.”
“You have the exact time?”
“We have him on camera. He made a point of it.”
“How? Why didn’t they grab him?”
“He was in the back of a car driven by two senior citizens. The Border Patrol agents were specifically looking for a male driver fitting his description, or passenger with a female driver. They don’t have the man power to pull over every vehicle. Glenn is charming, he’s altered his appearance somewhat, he could have said any number of things to convince the couple to drive him across. Seriously, everyone is warned about bringing passengers from Mexico into California, but in reverse?”
Will knew Hans was right, but what was he going to tell Robin? Once in Mexico it was up to the Federal government to extradite him and the Mexican government rarely helped. The American government had no authority down there.
“I have LEGAT on it and they’re going straight to the top. No playing around on this one. But-”
“But we probably won’t get any help.”
Hans glanced around, made sure no one was eavesdropping. “I might have someone who can look around for us. Completely off-the-record.”
“Who?”
“A friend of mine. I’ve worked with him in the past, he has contacts everywhere.”
Will told Hans firmly, “You find him; I’ll bring him back.”
“You can’t, Will, and you know it. But my friend can.”
Will nodded. Hans said, “I’ll make the call.”
Robin had been trying to paint all day, with little success. Worry about her business, Theodore Glenn, the nice Jim Gage being killed in his own home-everything she attempted to create on canvas looked as bleak as she felt. So when Will came by late that afternoon, she relished the break-until she looked into his tired, worried eyes.
“I don’t even want to ask, but something happened.”
Will said, “Glenn slipped out of town.”
“He’s not here? How do you know?”
“He was spotted crossing the border into Mexico. Tijuana.”
Robin blinked rapidly. “And no one stopped him?”
“I watched the security camera tape. He changed his hair-added some gray-and he has on dark contact lenses. Very average looking. And he wasn’t alone. He had two seniors with him.”
“Are they okay?”
“We have an officer at their house waiting for them to return. We ran their license, we know who they are-no record, not even unpaid parking tickets. We spoke to their neighbors and learned that they go down one Friday a month to meet with some retired teachers’ group. They’ll be back tonight and we’ll talk to them. Find out where they left Glenn, if he said anything.” Will looked at Robin, rubbed her chin. “We will find him.”
“He’s gone.” The stress of the last six days intensified. He was gone…but for how long? “Is the Federal government going after him?” Will averted his eyes, just a fraction, but Robin knew he was keeping something from her. “What is it? Will, what aren’t you telling me?”
“It’s not-”
“Don’t tell me it’s not important. If it’s about Theodore Glenn, it’s important! I need to know.”
“He killed Sara Lorenz. Stabbed her to death last night.”
She sat heavily on the couch. “I–I want to feel bad. But she helped him. She spied on me.”
“He also left me a letter. Told me he was going to Mexico.”
“And?”
Will didn’t say anything for a long minute.
“Dammit, Will, I’m not a fragile flower. Tell me!”
“He said he was coming back. I just won’t know when.”
Robin took a deep breath. This had been what she feared, in some ways more than facing Glenn again. Knowing he was free, waiting to pounce on her. Taking his time.
“I’m not going to let him touch you. Robin, we have everyone looking for him. The Feds have people in Mexico. We are on the border-”
“You were supposedly on the border before he crossed it, too,” she snapped, feeling bad for taking it out on Will. “I’m sorry, it’s not you-”
“Don’t apologize. I know how you feel, Robin. I feel the same way.”
She shook her head. “No. No, you don’t. I’ve put my life on hold. I hired a bodyguard. I closed my business. I’ve barely left my loft. I’m trapped. All because of him.” She didn’t even want to say his name anymore. “I think that’s exactly what he wants. He wants me to be jumping at shadows, looking over my shoulder, worried that he could come for me at any minute. I’m not going to live in fear for the rest of my life! Not anymore.”
She stood, walked over to the window and looked down at the crowded street below. “I’ve been living in fear for seven years, even while he was in prison. The dark scares me because I immediately think about Anna. Falling in her blood. I sleep with the lights on like a little girl. I have a gun because I think it can save me, but only I can do that. Only I can take back my life.”
She faced Will. “He’s not going to have power over me anymore. I’m not going to let him.” She stepped toward Wi
ll, a weight lifting from her heart. Saying the words out loud, believing them, made Robin feel free for the first time in years. “I’ve made something of my life, and I’m going to enjoy it. I’m not going to let that bastard take it away from me!”
Will grabbed her, pulled her tight against his body, his lips pressed hard on hers. She opened her mouth, tasted him, a free woman at last. Free and in love.
“Robin,” he murmured. “You’ve never let anyone control you.”
He ran both his hands through her hair and she leaned into his caress. “I will do anything, Robin, anything to keep you in my life. You’re vibrant. Beautiful. Smart. I’m complete with you. I would do anything for you. Mostly, though, I need you.”
She touched his face. “Will-” She kissed him. “I’m glad we found each other again. Older and wiser.”
He rested his forehead on hers and she breathed in his warm scent. “I have to go.”
She nodded
“Being involved with a cop isn’t easy. It’s not a regular nine-to-five job.”
“Neither is running a nightclub.”
“I want to share everything with you, Robin, but some of it isn’t pretty.”
“You certainly don’t have to tell me that.”
“No, I don’t.” He paused. “How long are you going to keep Mario around?”
“I told Isabelle-who manages the art gallery-that Mario would handle security for the event.”
“Good.”
“But Sunday is Mario’s last day. I’m not going to have a bodyguard for the rest of my life. I can’t live like that.”
“You’ll have me.”
“That I can live with.”
It was six when Will arrived back at the station. Carina had already written up the report on the Sara Lorenz homicide. “During the canvass,” she said, “neighbors said that Sara was friendly, kept to herself, and told everyone she was an attorney. In fact, she was a paralegal but has been putting herself out as a lawyer. Doug found more money and the Feds are locking it down. Dominguez and Hazelwood met with the bank manager this morning, with a warrant from Stanton, and we now have all the bank records and contents of a safe-deposit box.”
Killing Fear pb-1 Page 28
