“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.”
EIGHTEEN
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.”
“It’s gone.”
“Please.”
Will scrubbed until her skin was raw and the water painful. He washed her hair three times, used his soap on her body. She now smelled like him, and
that gave her some peace. To be wrapped up in Will Hooper, she could live with that. She’d been thinking a lot about what they had and what they didn’t have. Will knew she was a stripper. He still showed her more care and compassion than any man in her life. There was something there, something more than there had ever been in her life.
They went to bed. Slow and passionate, two people brought together by tragedy forging something beautiful out of the evil surrounding them. And she slept, awaking only when she didn’t feel Will’s arms around her.
“Where are you going?”
“I have to go in. The lab found evidence that links Anna to Theodore Glenn. The D.A. is already working on the warrant, and I need to be there to haul him in.”
She sat up, pulling Will’s sheet around her naked body. “Take me with you.”
“You know I can’t.”
“I can’t help but think I could have done something to save her.” No tears came, she was drained.
“You didn’t know.”
“Didn’t know what?”
Will slipped on his slacks. “That Anna had sex with Glenn. She wasn’t on the target list we put together after Brandi was killed. He must have been watching her, knew she’d returned from Big Bear early.”
She blinked, watching Will button up his shirt. “Anna didn’t have a relationship with him.”
“Why would he change his M.O.?” Will shook his head. “I interrogated that bastard. I know his game. He thinks it’s part of the fun to kill women he had sex with. Sort of a reverse obsession. Usually rejection prompts a man of Glenn’s ego to act, the stressor to get him into a killing frame of mind. But with him, he gets the thrill of killing those who trust him. It’s not just about the victim. It’s about who finds the victim. He wanted you to find Anna.”
She shook her head. “No. Anna never had sex with him.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“I am.”
“How?”
“Anna is a lesbian, okay?” she said, angry. “She was raped by her own father when she turned thirteen. That was her birthday present. He sexually abused her for two years before she ran away. Then the police brought her home and because she was too scared to talk about what her father did to her, she went through the same thing for six more months.”
“I’m sorry.” Will’s voice showed he did care about the girl Anna had been, the trauma she had suffered. It was one of the many reasons Robin had fallen in love with Will. His compassion was boundless, but didn’t border on pity.
“Anna ran away again, smarter this time, lied about her age, got a fake ID, and started working at RJ’s. I knew she was underage when he hired her, but RJ wouldn’t listen to me. He didn’t care about that, as long as he could justify his ignorance if he was ever caught.” She closed her eyes. “Anna was so scared. But she put herself out there. She told me once that stripping gave her power over men that she’d never had before with her father. One of the other girls was a lesbian; she befriended Anna, and Anna told me when she moved into my apartment that she was gay and asked if that bothered me. I said it didn’t.”
“Maybe she was bisexual. She was young, maybe—”
“She wasn’t.”
Will stared at her. “Are you sure?”
“I am. She had the same reaction to Theodore Glenn as I did when I first met him. She wouldn’t have slept with any man, and she certainly wouldn’t have slept with him.”
Robin watched the expression on Will’s face harden. What was he thinking? “What? Does this mean something important?”
“Robin, I want the truth. Did you ever sleep with Theodore Glenn?”
She felt sucker-punched. “I told you I didn’t. You know how I feel about him.”
“Maybe it was a long time ago. Maybe you were in denial that he was targeting his former lovers. Maybe he expected you to be home, not Anna. Everyone knew she was going to Big Bear. And when she opened the door, he panicked, killed her instead.”
“I never had sex with him.”
Will stared at her and his eyes told her he didn’t believe her.
She rose from the bed, her nudity embarrassing her for the first time in her life. She’d given her heart to Will Hooper and he’d shredded it.
“You can see why I’m finding it hard to believe you,” he said quietly.
She pulled on the jeans that were too big and the top that was too small. Tears burned behind her eyes, but she would not cry in front of this man. Never again.
“Because I’m a stripper?”
“No, because of the M.O. He wouldn’t—”
“Fuck you, Will Hooper.”
She ran out of his town house.
“Ms. McKenna?” A deep, male voice came over her intercom. The security guard.
“Yes?” she said.
“There’s a Trinity Lange here to see you. She doesn’t have an appointment.”
Robin frowned. She didn’t like talking to reporters, but Trinity Lange had been fair during the trial. Unlike the print media, she hadn’t harped on the fact that the victims were strippers, and seemed to honestly believe they deserved justice just as much as any other victim.
But why did the reporter want to see her? She was wary, especially now. “What does she want?”
A moment later, the voice said, “She says it’s completely off-the-record.”
Off-the-record. She didn’t know if she could trust Trinity, but Robin was curious. “All right, bring her back. Thank you.”
Robin shut her emotions in her office and met Trinity at the Back Room bar. Trinity smiled and thanked the bodyguard. “You have the most gorgeous staff,” she said.
“We want our customers to enjoy all five senses.”
“Thanks for agreeing to talk to me.”
“I haven’t yet.”
Trinity opened then closed her mouth and nodded. “I guess I deserved that.”
“You don’t deserve anything, good or bad. You were the only major reporter who didn’t talk about my friends like they were hookers. That kindness bought you this time. But I do not talk to the press, and I will not be quoted.”
Trinity took a deep breath. “Theodore Glenn paid me a visit the other night.”
Robin sat down before she fell over. Will hadn’t told her. “What happened?”
“He broke into my apartment and tied me to my bed. I was scared out of my mind.”
“Rightfully. He’s a killer. You sat through the trial. You know what he did to my friends.”
Trinity nodded. “He admitted to me that he killed Bethany, Brandi, and Jessica.”
Robin blinked. Her world tilted and everything seemed brighter. “And Anna?”
Trinity shook her head. “He said he didn’t kill Anna Clark. He was emphatic about it.”
“Don’t believe him.” Her voice was low, quivering. She swallowed bile.
“Normally I wouldn’t, but…”
Robin stared at the reporter. “I don’t believe you’re not doing a story on this.”
“Not on you. Not on the victims. But put yourself in my shoes. A convicted murderer admits to you that he’s killed three women, but not the fourth? How does it benefit him?”
“It gets him press. Gives him a platform. Buys him time to do whatever it is he’s planning on doing!”
“But—”
“And you’re buying it?” Robin fumed. “I never pegged you for a stupid woman, Trinity.”
The reporter bristled. “I’m not being stupid, Robin. I know what I’m doing.”
“Do you?”
“I think he’s after Will Hooper.”
“I’ll alert the media,” Robin said sarcastically, a pang of fear in her chest. She didn’t want Will dead. “That’s no big revelation. He killed Detective Sturgeon, the other cop who arrested him. It makes sense that he’ll go after Will, too.”
“It’s personal with him.”
“Isn’t murder always personal?”
“Why are you asking me the questions?”
<
br /> “Why are you buying Theodore Glenn’s act? I knew the man. He’s the biggest manipulator on the planet. He thrives on these twisted games.”
“He knew about you and Will,” Trinity said quietly.
He saw us. Watched us, that night in the bar.
Will’s words from last night came back to her.
He’d told her Glenn had watched them, but she hadn’t asked how he’d come by that information. Now it made sense; a sick, twisted, obscene sense.
Robin said, “You told Will about this?”
Trinity nodded.
“Who else?”
“No one.”
“Really?” She stood to pour herself a shot of her favorite Reposado tequila and slammed it back; the smooth, flavorful liquor coating her senses.
“I told Will in private,” Trinity said. “I didn’t put it into the official record. I probably made a big mistake, but I like Will. I don’t want him to be hurt by this.”
“What does he want?”
“Will?”
“Glenn.”
“He wants to find out who killed Anna Clark,” Trinity said.
Robin slammed her fist on the counter. “He killed Anna!” she shouted.
She turned, head down, and put her hands on her knees. Took deep breaths. What was going on with her? Theodore Glenn was succeeding in breaking her. God, what if he really was after Will to hurt her? Why? Because she refused his advances? Because she never played his little games at RJ’s? Because she knew exactly who and what he was and steered clear of him?
You never thought he would kill.
Not until it happened, then she couldn’t imagine how she hadn’t seen it sooner. Found a way to stop him.
“I think he wanted you,” Trinity said quietly. “He said something to me that only makes sense now that I know he wasn’t lying about you and Will Hooper.”
She stared at Trinity, lips drawn tight.
“I didn’t tell Will. I meant to, but after I told him about Glenn watching you and Will being intimate, Will got all weirded out.”
Killing Fear Page 17
