by Lisa Regan
“You think she was incapable of being seduced?” Connor asked. He had seen time and again on the job the way that people could be manipulated, especially by someone very skilled and given the right circumstances. People could be charmed and seduced and made to do things they might not normally do. No matter how rigid or controlling Leah Holloway had been, they knew for a fact that she had deviated from her normal behavior. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have needed to be tested for STDs.
Rachel laughed. “Seduced? Leah? Now I know you’re not serious.”
Jade put her hands on her hips. “What makes you think we’re not serious?”
Rachel’s posture relaxed, her arms uncrossed. She looked at them like they were missing something glaringly obvious. Then she dropped her gaze to the floor. “I forgot, you never met her. But you saw her, um, body, right?”
Jade and Connor looked at one another. Rachel gave an exasperated sigh. She pulled her cell phone from her pocket and swiped several times until she found what she was looking for, which turned out to be an unflattering photo of Leah lying in a large inner tube with Hunter in her lap at what appeared to be a water park. The two of them were completely soaked. Leah’s dark one-piece bathing suit showed little, but lying on her back, all of her excess weight fell to the sides, making her look much larger than she must have been. Connor had seen countless photos of Leah in her home. Certainly, she had been no size zero, but she hadn’t been unattractive. She’d been curvy in all the places that many men enjoyed curves, and she had had a beautiful smile.
“Look,” Rachel said. She swiped a few more times until she came to a photo of Leah, Peyton, and the Irving twins gathered round a picnic table with ice cream cones in hand. Smiles split their faces. Leah’s hair was windblown, sticking up in several directions. Her face was badly sunburned, and a drip of chocolate ice cream stained her shirt. “Do you really think a man would try to seduce … that?”
From the corner of his eye, Connor caught Jade’s raised brow. He hoped she wouldn’t blurt out what he knew she was thinking: Is this bitch serious right now?
They stared at Rachel until she put away her phone and crossed her arms again. “Okay, I get it,” she said. “You think I’m being mean. Leah was my friend. She was a good friend, and I loved her. Believe me, I still can’t believe this is happening. But I am just being realistic. Leah wasn’t … unattractive, but she was not the type of woman that men—that men were … interested in.”
“Jim Holloway was interested in her,” Connor pointed out.
Rachel gave him an oh-please look. “Jim just needed someone to feed and clothe him. He would have married a woman with two heads if she said she’d take care of him.”
“So you don’t think their relationship was genuine?” Connor asked.
“No. I didn’t say that. God knows why, but I think they loved one another in their own odd ways. I’m just saying it wasn’t hard for Leah to get Jim. But the men don’t line up for women like Leah. Besides that, even if Leah could get a guy to carry on an affair with her, she didn’t even like sex that much.”
“What makes you say that?” Jade asked. “I thought you said she didn’t talk about sex.”
Rachel shrugged. “Well, I mean not never. She just didn’t go into detail. She always talked about it like it was a chore. She used to say, ‘Thank God Jim is more interested in fishing than sex.’ She used to joke about it. You know, she never said, but I think when she was young, she had some bad experiences, like maybe she was abused.”
None of those things precluded Leah from having an affair. Connor knew this. But there was no telling Rachel. Then again, they didn’t need to convince her to get the information they needed.
“Mrs. Irving,” Connor said. “Can you think of any men that Leah might have come into contact with in the last couple of years besides her husband? Anyone she talked to or saw at events for her children? Did she talk about any of the men at work?”
“No,” Rachel said. “No one. Really.”
“Okay, how about anyone here in the neighborhood? Any male neighbors she was particularly friendly with? Any men living around here that she had a lot of contact with? Men who visited the neighborhood regularly—maybe someone who was visiting relatives or doing work on neighbors’ houses or anything like that?”
She started frowning as he spoke. “I really don’t know,” she said. “Most of the men around here are married—although I guess that doesn’t mean anything. You’re saying you think Leah had an affair, and she was married. But I can’t think of anyone. A lot of husbands travel. Leah didn’t talk to any of them. She barely even talked to their wives. There are contractors who come through occasionally and work on people’s houses, but no one regular. Well, except landscapers. But they have a lot of turnover, so it’s rarely the same group of men coming through. The only regular was a guy who used to do Glory Rohrbach’s landscaping, but he doesn’t come around anymore.”
“Who is Glory Rohrbach?” Jade asked.
“She used to live a few doors down. A few months before Leah got pregnant, Glory got caught having an affair with her landscaper. It was quite the scandal. He was way younger than her. Like, in his early twenties.”
Connor caught Jade’s look. A young man in his early twenties. The first Strangler victim had lived in Pocket, as had the fourth victim, Ellen Fair. Agent Bishop had theorized that the Strangler likely lived or worked in the neighborhood, as serial killers often carried out their first killing in their comfort zone. A landscaper would be out working during the day and would not be out of place in a residential neighborhood.
“You remember his name?” Connor asked. “Or the name of the landscaping company he worked for?”
“No, I’m sorry, but her husband would. He still lives in the house with their kids. Glory moved in with the landscaper, I think, in some studio apartment in South Sacramento. It doesn’t matter, though. He was sleeping with Glory. I don’t think Leah ever even met him, and like I said, she wouldn’t give another man the time of day.”
“Well,” Connor said, “if you think of anyone that Leah might have been having an affair with, please give us a call. We need to talk to him. It’s important.”
“Why? Why is it important?” Rachel asked. “Leah is dead. Why does it even matter if she had an affair or not?”
Connor said, “She killed four people on the overpass, Mrs. Irving. We are trying to figure out what was going on in Leah’s life that would make her desperate enough to do what she did. Unfortunately for us, ‘she just snapped’ isn’t going to satisfy our supervisors.”
Jade mustered a tight smile for the woman, even though Connor could tell by her rigid stance that she did not particularly like Rachel Irving. “We’re just doing our job, ma’am. We were hoping we could talk to your children as well.”
Rachel looked over her shoulder. For the first time, Connor could hear a television playing in the background. “Now’s not the best time to disturb the girls.”
Connor tried his best sympathetic smile. “I understand,” he said. “I know we’ve taken up a lot of your time already today. We hate to intrude, and we wouldn’t, except, like I said, it’s really important.”
At the end of the long hallway behind Rachel, Connor could see white kitchen tile and a counter with a toaster atop it. Rachel bit her lip. Then she said, “Haven’t you talked to Peyton? Molly said Peyton went into the bathroom with Leah when they stopped.”
“We still need to speak with your girls,” Jade insisted. “They might know something and not even realize it.”
“Can you come back tomorrow?”
“No, Mrs. Irving, we can’t,” Connor said, making his voice a little firmer. He had a feeling that if they returned tomorrow just as she asked, that too would be a bad time. Most people didn’t want the police to talk to their children. Connor understood that. But Rachel’s best friend had tried to kill her children. Connor would have expected her to show more interest in finding out why.
“
Okay,” she sighed. “Come in.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
The Irving house was laid out in the same way as the Holloway home. The living room to the right, behind that a dining room, and then a small, narrow hall leading to the kitchen. Off the side of the kitchen was the garage. The hallway walls were dotted with framed family photos. Rachel, her husband, and their twin girls in Disneyland, in front of the Washington Monument in Washington, DC, on a beach somewhere, at the Grand Canyon. Obviously, they traveled often. Connor was nearly forty and hadn’t been to half the places he saw on the Irving family photo wall of fame. Interspersed with vacation photos were the girls’ school photos, showing the progression from chubby-cheeked preschoolers to thinner, more mature-looking first graders. Candid shots hung on the fridge. Connor saw Peyton and Hunter Holloway in several of those photos. He saw at least two photos of Leah and Rachel together, both of which looked to be from school events. The Irvings had many family photos decorating their house, but not nearly as many as the Holloway home boasted.
Off the other side of the kitchen, where the Holloways had built a deck, the Irvings had added a family room, complete with a fireplace and three large brown leather couches that circled around the biggest flat-screen television Connor had ever seen. There were two floor-to-ceiling windows, which were covered by heavy drapes, obscuring the view of the backyard. Along one wall Connor saw two matching wooden toy boxes painted white with pink princess crowns emblazoned across their front. One said “Molly,” the other “Maya.” It had the feel of a man cave that had been interrupted by the arrival of children.
Those children lay sprawled each on their own couch, staring sightlessly at the television, which played an episode of My Little Pony. They didn’t even look up as the adults entered the room. One of them lay with her casted foot atop a pile of pillows. Rachel turned the television off and gestured for Connor and Jade to sit on the empty couch. Jade took a seat. Connor remained standing. From his position, he could see into the kitchen, to where the door to the garage hung open. Two large plastic storage bins stood stacked on top of one another near the door. Rachel saw him register the bins and smiled tightly. “I was just getting rid of some old things in the garage,” she explained.
“Mrs. Irving, did you happen to call Leah Holloway yesterday morning?” Jade asked.
Rachel’s brow knitted. “No,” she said. “No, I didn’t.” She turned to the nearest twin, the one without the cast, and nudged her shoulder gently. “Molly and Maya. These are police detectives. They need to ask you some questions about what happened yesterday.”
The girl without the cast on her leg sat up. “I’m Maya,” she said.
“She’s my shy one,” Rachel joked.
“I was in the car crash,” she told them.
“So was I,” the other twin said flatly. She continued to look at the television even though Rachel had turned it off.
“Molly broke her ankle,” Maya informed them. She touched the back of her head. “I hit my head.”
“I’m very sorry to hear that,” Jade said. “Maya, can you tell me, was Mrs. Holloway acting any different yesterday after your soccer game?”
The girl thought about it, bringing her hand to her chin. While she thought about it, Molly said, “She was kinda mad.”
“What makes you say that?” Connor asked.
Molly shrugged. “Like, she kept yelling at us to hurry up. When we were all getting in the car. Also, she said a bad word.”
Rachel’s frown returned. “What word was that, honey?”
“We can’t say it, Mom,” Maya said in a tone that implied that Rachel had asked a very silly question.
“She said ‘hell,’” Molly told them matter-of-factly. Connor instantly liked the girl and her no-nonsense attitude. She seemed older than six. Not as old as Peyton Holloway, but older than her wide-eyed, earnest sister. “She told us to hurry the hell up.”
Rachel put a hand to her chest. A line of dismay creased her forehead. “Leah said that?”
Both girls nodded.
“So,” Connor said. “She told you to hurry the hell up and get into the car. Then what happened?”
Maya shrugged, picking up the tale. “We drove in the car. Then Hunter said he was hungry and could we go to McDonald’s. I was kind of hungry too and we all wanted to go, but Miss Leah said no.”
“Was Mrs. Hollo—Miss Leah talking on her phone in the car?”
“No, she was just yelling at Hunter.”
Rachel took a step toward Maya. “Leah yelled? You didn’t tell me that yesterday, Maya. Was she really yelling? Did her voice get loud or was she just being very serious?”
“She yelled,” Molly put in. “She told Hunter to shut up ’cause she had to think.”
“Oh my God,” Rachel said. She looked helplessly at the two detectives. “That doesn’t sound like Leah at all. She never talked to the kids that way. Sure, she would get frustrated sometimes, but she never raised her voice or swore in front of them. She was always patient and kind.”
Connor looked at Molly. “Did she say what she needed to think about?”
“No.”
“Then what happened?”
“Peyton had to pee,” Maya said. “Miss Leah asked if she could hold it, but Peyton said no, so we went to a gas station, and they went to the bathroom for a real long time.”
“Like forever,” Molly said. “Like ten hours.”
Connor smiled. “Ten hours, huh?”
“I think it was more like eight,” Maya said seriously.
“Girls,” Rachel admonished.
“What?” they said in unison.
Connor held up a hand. “It’s fine,” he said. “We’ve got video surveillance. We know exactly how long it was, but it probably felt like hours to them.”
“It was sixty-two minutes and forty-seven seconds,” Jade said.
“Oh, wow,” Rachel said. “That is a long time.”
“Mrs. Irving, you didn’t call Leah during that time to see where she was?”
“No, I didn’t. Sometimes games go long. Sometimes Leah takes—took the kids out to eat after.” Tears filled her eyes. “I never had to worry with Leah. She always treated my girls like they were her own. She was responsible, dependable. I knew my kids were safe with her. Oh my God.”
She walked briskly into the kitchen where Connor heard the sound of water running and then Rachel blowing her nose. He turned back to the twins. “Girls,” he said, “before the crash, did Miss Leah say anything?”
They spoke at the same time.
Maya said, “No.”
Molly said, “Yes.”
Connor and Jade looked at Molly. The girl’s voice took on its first hint of emotion, sadness, and a little bit of confusion. “She said, ‘God help me.’”
Rachel stepped back into the room. Tears streaked her face. Her hand clutched a balled-up tissue. She said, “I think you should leave.”
Jade put her notebook away and stood up. Connor thanked the girls and followed Rachel to the front door. Before he stepped over the threshold, Connor turned toward Rachel and asked her, “Would you mind if we had a quick glance at your cell phone? I know you said you didn’t call Leah yesterday, but our captain really isn’t going to let us rule that out unless we actually see your phone.”
Rachel used her thumbs to wipe the tears from her eyes. She smiled uncertainly. “Don’t you guys need a warrant or something for that?”
Connor smiled. “If it would make you feel better.”
She nodded and shooed them out the door.
In the car, Jade said, “What the hell was that about?”
“I just wanted to see if she’d refuse,” Connor explained.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Even late in the day on a Sunday, the division was all hustle and bustle. Connor and Jade squeezed past a bench full of witnesses sitting just inside the doors. Detectives rushed around. The department was stretched thin trying to run down all the Soccer Mom Strangler leads
and deal with its normal volume. Captain Boggs appeared in the doorway to his office and beckoned them over. They sat in front of his desk. Jade crossed her legs and pulled her notebook out of her pocket, leaving it in her lap.
“You got anything new on Holloway?” Boggs asked.
“We have a lead on a twenty-something landscaper who was having an affair with one of Leah’s neighbors,” Connor said. “Apparently, the neighbor, Glory Rohrbach, moved in with the landscaper. Her husband and kids still live a few doors down from the Holloways. We stopped at the house, but no one was home. One of the other neighbors said they’re away on vacation. A Disney cruise or something. We’ll keep trying.”
“Guy’s in his twenties,” Jade added. “Used to work in Pocket. Could be a Strangler connection too.”
“I’ll put O’Handley on it for now. He’s been working the Strangler case. Maybe he can track down this Glory person and her landscaper friend without her husband’s help,” Boggs said. He stood up from behind his desk and paced. “I’ve got to release Leah Holloway’s name to the press.”
Jade groaned.
Boggs stopped pacing and stared at her. “It’s a goddamn feeding frenzy out there. Fucking press. I gotta give them something. The Holloway story is big. Big enough to get them to shut up about the Soccer Mom Strangler for a while. We’ll need to do a press conference this evening. Obviously, we’re holding back the bite marks on Holloway’s body. Jade, you want to get something ready?”
She smirked. “I thought Parks might like to do it.”
“You’re the lead,” Boggs said.
Jade nudged Connor’s leg with her foot. “Come on, Parks. You’ve got the face. All handsome and rugged. The cameras love you.”
There was nothing Connor detested more about his job than leading press conferences, and not just because of the pressure or scrutiny. He would never live down the aftermath of his last press conference on a string of burglaries plaguing the upscale homes of the Sierra Oaks neighborhood in Sacramento. Even the expensive and elaborate security systems in some of the houses were no match for the thieves, but Connor had caught them eventually and had been hailed a hero by a number of female viewers.
