Killing Fear

by Allison Brennan

  “She could have taken something out of the evidence room,” Hans suggested.

  Will nodded. “I’ll have Hazelwood look into that, see if she signed anything out. But if it’s a gun that has been used in a crime, we’d have the ballistics on it for comparison.

  “But,” Will continued, “she framed Theodore Glenn for Anna’s murder, maybe she’ll try to frame someone else.”

  “We need to get all seven of those individuals in and talk to them,” Hans said. “And check to see if any of them has a concealed carry permit.”

  Will glanced at his watch. “It’s after eight. Let’s get everyone together and see what happens. On the QT. We don’t want Diana thinking she’s a suspect.”

  Will made the call to Hazelwood to contact the seven people seen speaking with Jim as he was leaving the lab yesterday, then he called Chief Causey at home and filled him in. Causey would contact Stanton to give him a heads-up and work out a reason to get a warrant. Then Will called Carina, filled her in on his conversation with Dillon, and told her the plan. She assured him she could play the part.

  “I want her to fry,” Carina said. “I won’t screw it up.”

  Will was waiting on two more people—including Diana—when his cell phone rang. It was Officer Diaz, informing him that the couple who were seen driving Theodore Glenn across the border had just arrived home. Damn, he wanted to talk to them, but right now Jim’s murder was the priority. Instead, he sent Dominguez out.

  Then Trinity’s number popped up on his caller ID. He almost didn’t answer it, but he’d promised her a scoop.

  “Hooper.”

  “So I can see why you didn’t call me as soon as you found out Jim Gage had been murdered in his own home. You were busy investigating a crime. And maybe I can overlook the fact that you didn’t give me a heads-up that the Sheriff’s Department was working the crime scene because that’s logical—Gage was in charge of the city’s crime lab. His own people shouldn’t be processing his blood. Got it. But you couldn’t even call me and tell me Theodore Glenn wasn’t a suspect? That he fled to Mexico? You promised me, Will, and it’s barely been twenty-four hours!”

  “Trinity, it’s been hell over here. I’m sorry press relations wasn’t at the top of my to-do list. How’d you hear about Glenn?”

  “That’s not fair. I helped you, and you don’t even throw me a bone. And I’m not telling you my sources, but the fact that the nice cop outside my town house told me he was leaving because Glenn was in Mexico and he’d been pulled off babysitting duty kind of clued me in.”

  Will bit back a retort. He understood why Trinity was mad, but dammit, he was at a critical point in the investigation. “Off-the-record, Trinity.”

  “No.”

  “Then I’m not saying anything.”

  “You’re an ass!”

  “I’ll give you something, but you can’t report on it until I give you the okay.”

  “Not good enough.”

  “It’ll have to be.”

  “Dammit, Will! If you think I’ll ever be your messenger to the public again, ha! Never! You’re a liar, Will—”

  Will watched Diana walk into the bull pen and Detective Hazelwood approach her with a warm smile.

  “Okay, I’ll give it to you.”

  Silence. “What?”

  “We have a suspect in the Jim Gage homicide.”

  “In custody?”

  “No.”

  “Who?”

  “I can’t tell you that until the suspect has been arrested. You know that.”

  “Is it the same person who killed Anna Clark?”

  “That’s a big jump,” Will said.

  “No, it’s not. If Theodore Glenn didn’t kill Dr. Gage, who would? Maybe someone who thought Gage had information that would incriminate them? Maybe your little ploy yesterday didn’t work.”

  “Don’t go there.” Will still wasn’t certain he wasn’t partly responsible for what happened to Jim.

  “Sorry.” Trinity sounded sincere. “Well?”

  “Let’s say that the suspect is also a person of interest in the Anna Clark homicide.”

  “Fair enough. And I can run with this?”

  “Run.”

  “Ciao.”

  Will put his finger up to ward off Hazelwood when his fellow detective indicated everyone was ready. He called Causey again and clued him into his conversation with Trinity so the chief wouldn’t be surprised by the media coverage, then walked down the hall to where the seven employees in the crime scene lab who had spoken to Jim yesterday were waiting.

  “Thanks for coming in, I appreciate it. This won’t take long, we’re simply retracing Dr. Gage’s steps yesterday and you all spoke to him right before he left the office.”

  “I just said good-bye,” one of the clerks, a timid young woman, said, biting her thumbnail.

  “Then why don’t you come in first?” He smiled easily and escorted her down the hall.

  Carina was already in the room. She’d showered and looked fresh, but dark circles framed her eyes.

  Will quickly went through the first five individuals, then called in Stu Hansen. This was getting tricky, because Will knew Stu and Diana were friends and had worked together for years. “Thanks for coming in tonight, Stu.”

  “I can’t believe he’s dead. I heard you don’t think it was Theodore Glenn. Why? That doesn’t make sense. Glenn threatened Dr. Gage several times. He—”

  “Whoa, slow down, Stu. You spoke to Dr. Gage twice yesterday. On the phone in his office, then again as he was leaving.”

  “Yes.”

  “What was the phone call about?”

  Stu frowned. “Why?”

  “We’re trying to figure out what Jim might have been working on.”

  “I told him I didn’t like the Feds coming in here and looking at our evidence, like we did something wrong. We didn’t do anything wrong, not on the Anna Clark case. We went by the book. Textbook.”

  “We know,” Will said. “Like I told the reporter, we have no reason to believe anyone other than Theodore Glenn killed Anna Clark. This is about Jim, not a seven-year-old murder. Do you know what was in the box Jim was carrying with him when he left?”

  “Box?” Stu frowned, glanced to his left as if trying to remember.

  Will put a photo in front of him taken from the security camera. It showed Jim talking with Stu and Diana outside the exit leading to the parking garage. “This box.”

  “I really didn’t think anything about it.”

  “You didn’t notice it at all? It’s large. He’s carrying it with both hands.”

  Stu shrugged. “It was a case file box.”

  “Did it have anything written on it?”

  “Not that I noticed—wait. Yeah, there was. The boxes are marked with the case number. Jim’s arm was covering the number, but it was an older case—the first two numbers tell the year and it was ‘01,’ and I guess I thought why was he working an old case, especially since that’s the same year the strippers were killed.”

  “You automatically equated a case file from 2001 as being related to the Theodore Glenn murders?” Will questioned.

  Stu shook his head. “I don’t know, it was on my mind. After Glenn told that reporter he didn’t kill the Clark woman, and then the press conference and the Feds getting involved—yeah, it was on my mind.” His eyes widened as he made a connection. “You don’t think Jim’s murder had anything to do with that case?”

  “We simply want to know what work he took home with him,” Will said.

  “It was Glenn. It had to be. No one else had a reason to kill him.”

  Will switched gears. “Do you own a personal firearm?”

  “No,” Stu replied, eyeing Will suspiciously. “Why?”

  “I’m just asking.”

  “No, you’re fishing. I’ve worked in the lab for a dozen years and I know how interviews are done. Do you think one of us killed him?” Stu looked disgusted. “What’s with you? I think it wa
s Glenn, we all do, and you’re not even considering that possibility?”

  “We have strong evidence that suggests Glenn did not—could not—have killed Jim.”

  “What?”

  “I can’t discuss that with you.”

  “Am I a suspect?”

  “Should you be?”

  “Do I need a lawyer?”

  “Do you?”

  Stu stood up. “I don’t have to be here.”

  “No, you don’t. But you’re an employee of the San Diego Police Department and Chief Causey has given me the authority to interview anyone under his command who may have information about the Jim Gage murder. If you refuse, you will be put on administrative leave pending an investigation. You may have your union representative in here with you, if you do not want to answer our questions without him present.”

  “I—” Stu looked flustered.

  Will asked, before Stu requested anyone, “What did Jim say when you and Diana spoke to him for two-and-a-half minutes when he left work yesterday?”

  “I really don’t remember.” He closed his eyes. “I told him I was worried someone would be fired. He said he was out of the loop, that the Feds looked at the case and didn’t think it should be reopened.”

  “Anything else?”

  “He wasn’t feeling well and was going to do paperwork at home.”

  “Did Diana say anything?”

  “She asked about Glenn, if there was any news on him. Jim said there wasn’t. That’s it. That’s all I remember.”

  “Thanks, Stu.”

  “That’s all?”

  “Yes, just be available.”

  Will looked at Carina. “You ready?”

  She nodded.

  Will escorted Stu out. Diana was still sitting on a bench in the hall, a file folder open, working on something. She looked up and gave them a half smile. “Everything okay?” She glanced at Stu—who looked flustered and upset—her brows furrowed.

  Will nodded. “No problem. You can go in, second door.” He sounded casual. “I’ll just be a minute.”

  Diana gathered her material and started down the hall.

  Will escorted Stu to the door, ignoring his questions, which were variations on the same theme: Were they firing anyone? Why wasn’t Glenn a suspect?

  His cell phone rang as he made it back to the interview room. He walked past, to the adjoining room, where Hans was listening to Carina’s interview with Diana.

  “Everything okay?” Will asked quietly.

  “Exactly how Dillon predicted it would go.”

  Will answered his phone.

  “Dominguez here. I just spoke with Roy and Edna Stein. Nice couple. Too nice. Glenn was standing at a closed gas station early Friday morning next to a silver Honda Acura near the on-ramp to I-5 three miles from the border. He waved them over and asked if they had a cell phone because the gas station was closed and his battery died. They offered to give him a ride because they don’t carry cell phones, and he told them he was a journalist writing an article about illegal border crossings and he needed to meet a contact in Tijuana. They happily drove him down there.”

  “Why?”

  “To quote Mrs. Stein, ‘He was a polite young man and had credentials.’”

  “Did you tell her who he was?”

  “Yes, and she didn’t believe me. She thinks we’re mistaken.”

  “Where did they drop him off?”

  “The HSBC Bank on Avenida Revolucion.”

  “And he didn’t ask for a ride back?”

  “They offered, but he said he’d be down there for a few days and would have a friend pick him up when he was done. He gave them twenty dollars for gas—offered more, but they declined.”

  “Do they still have the twenty dollars?”

  “No, they bought gas with it.”

  “Get over to that gas station where they picked Glenn up and check out the story. If the car is there, have it impounded.” He hung up, told Hans what he learned.

  “I’ll text message my buddy. He’s already down there.”

  Will listened to Carina in the room. She was just chatting now, talking about Jim as if commiserating with a girlfriend, casually sitting across from Diana. “You know, I’m really going to miss him,” Carina was saying. “We broke up years ago, but we were always friends.”

  “He was a terrific lab director,” Diana said. “Very smart, serious, a complete professional. Did you need anything else? It’s late and I still have paperwork to finish up.”

  “I don’t know what’s keeping Will. He’ll only be a second, I’m sure.”

  Diana glanced at her watch, tapped her fingers on the table. She didn’t look Carina in the eye, seemed on the verge of saying something, then closed her mouth.

  “I think she’s primed,” Hans said.

  The door opened and Chief Causey walked in along with District Attorney Andrew Stanton. The chief looked tired. “Are you one hundred percent certain she killed Dr. Gage?”

  “I know she killed Jim. I can’t prove it yet,” Will admitted. “I have Hazelwood in the evidence room—the lab techs and criminalists routinely check in and out evidence. Nothing may come of it, but she doesn’t have a CCP or a registered gun.”

  Hans said, “I don’t think she expects to be under scrutiny. You may very well find evidence at her home.”

  “I have a judge waiting to sign a warrant,” Stanton said. “I need something more than Dillon Kincaid’s profile—and frankly, it needs to be tangible. Hard evidence.”

  “The sheriff’s crime lab is working double-time on this,” Chief Causey said. “They are combing through fibers and trace evidence. I’ve talked to the sheriff personally and he understands the sensitivity of the situation.”

  “If they find something from Diana, she could claim that she’d been in Gage’s house before.”

  “But it would be enough for a warrant,” Stanton said. “I’m going to listen in with the chief.”

  Will nodded. “Hans, let’s nail her to the wall.”

  THIRTY-FIVE

  Will walked into the interview room and Diana began to stand. He smiled and motioned her to remain sitting. “Have you met Special Agent Hans Vigo?” Will asked her.

  “I heard someone from the FBI was around,” she said.

  Hans extended his hand, shook Diana’s, and Will said to Carina, “Can you please follow up with Border Patrol?”

  He handed her a note. The note told her to watch with the chief and when he gave her a signal—running his left hand over his head—to come in with a note and hand it to him. Will knew he had to play Diana very carefully because she knew all the tricks.

  When Carina left, he took Diana’s hands and squeezed, as if he were supporting her through a difficult time. “We’re all going to miss Jim. How are you holding up?”

  She shrugged. “I’m shocked.”

  Will dropped her hands and flipped open his notepad. “We’ve asked everyone about conversations with Jim the day he was killed. I know you already spoke to Carina, but we’re trying to figure out what he was working on. He took a box with him from the office—” Will slid the security photo in front of her. “We can’t find it. It’s not in his office, his house, or his car. We’ve retraced his steps and know he went directly home from the office. Do you know what he was working on?”

  She shook her head. “He didn’t say. I didn’t ask. Jim always brought work home. I think we all did.”

  “They sure don’t pay us enough to work from home,” Will commiserated.

  Diana’s words were careful, measured. “I’m curious why you don’t think Theodore Glenn killed Jim. It’s the most logical conclusion. He threatened him in court, just like the others.”

  “Of course we looked at Glenn first. But Jim let his killer in. There was no sign of forced entry. No sign of a struggle. Jim opened the door and his killer immediately shot him. No hesitation, just bang-bang-bang, three bullets to the chest.”

  Diana looked down at her hand
s and let out a long, shaky breath.

  “I’m sorry,” Will said. “I should be more sensitive. You and Jim were friends.”

  “We were colleagues,” Diana said. “He was my boss. I had a lot of respect for him.”

  “We all did.” Will paused. “Carina is not taking his murder well.”

  “They lived together, didn’t they?” Diana asked.

  “Yeah, for three years. So you don’t know what was in the box?”

  She shook her head.

  “Was there any writing on it?”

  She didn’t say anything.

  “Diana?”

  “There was a case number.”

  “Did you recognize it?”

  “No. It was recent, it started with an ‘08’ which meant it came from this year.”

  “What was he working on in the office?”

  “Primarily the Frank Sturgeon homicide this week, and of course he supervises dozens of cases. I had a gang shooting I processed two days ago, and it has been keeping me busy.”

  Gang shooting. Will remembered hearing about it, though he’d been focused on Glenn’s escape. Four dead gang members in an alley. He wondered if they’d recovered any firearms.

  He gave Carina the signal and asked, “Have you ever been to Jim’s house?”

  Diana froze at the question. “I—why?”

  “You were friends.”

  “Colleagues.”

  Will smiled. “I go to a lot of colleagues’ houses.”

  “I’ve been there a few times.”

  “When was the last time?”

  “Why does this sound like an interrogation?”

  Carina walked in, handed Will a note. He ‘read’ it—it was blank—then scribbled check status of guns in gang shooting and handed it back.

  “When was the last time you were at Jim’s house?”

  “I don’t see what that has to do with anything,” Diana said, her face tight as she watched Carina leave.

  “Diana, why won’t you answer the question?”

  “It sounds like you’re accusing me of something. I thought we were friends, Will. I thought you respected me.”

  Hans spoke for the first time. “Diana, I’ve reviewed your personnel files and you have an exemplary record.”

  “Why were you looking at my personnel files?”