Killing Fear (15 page)

“I can only imagine what you’d be like in bed, Robin. Or on the floor. Or the kitchen table.”

“Why did you kill Anna?”

He knew she’d ask. “I didn’t.”

“You fucking liar! You’re playing your pathetic games again, doing this to torment me.”

“You don’t know what torment is, Robin.” His voice grew hard. “You put me in prison. San Quentin is a hell-hole. The food is barely edible. The men on death row are borderline retards. Stupid fools. I would never have been convicted if it weren’t for you. I meant what I said at the trial. You identified me off that sketch and that’s how the cops got my DNA. That’s how they framed me—”

“Framed you?”

“For Anna’s murder. And believe me, I will find out who did it and cut their heart out.

“But first,” he said, his anger building, “I have a special treat just for you.”

“You’re psycho,” she said. “If I don’t shoot you myself I’ll be there when the state kills you.”

“That’s not how this game plays out. I will kill you, Robin, slowly. And the last thing you see before you die will be my smile.”

“Fuck you!”

“How’s William?”

He hung up, heart pounding. Shit, he’d planned out the conversation perfectly, then something snapped and now he was angry.

She should have been cowering in fear. She should have been begging for mercy. Instead
she
threatened
him.

He would kill her. He would make her suffer, but first he would make her fear him.

Trinity found Deputy District Attorney Julia Chandler in her office later that morning. As soon as Julia saw her, she said, “You’ll have to talk to Stanton. I have no comment.”

Trinity couldn’t help but grin. “Off the record, Julia. Five minutes.”

The pretty attorney eyed her suspiciously. “Five minutes.”

Trinity closed the door behind her. “Thank you.”

“Five minutes and counting.”

“Seven years ago there was a private meeting in the judge’s chambers where evidence that proved Theodore Glenn killed Bethany Coleman was thrown out on a technicality.”

Julia’s eyes narrowed. “Where did you hear that?” she asked, her voice deceptively calm.

“Theodore Glenn paid me a visit early this morning.”

Julia processed that information, blinking rapidly. “You saw him?”

“More or less. It was dark, I didn’t see much of anything, but it was him. He confessed to killing Bethany, Brandi, and Jessica. He denies killing Anna Clark.”

“He denied killing Anna?” Julia repeated.

“He wants me to prove it.”

“What the hell are you doing?” Julia asked. “Helping him? Why didn’t you call the police? I need to—”

Trinity interjected, “I called the police. Told them everything.”
Almost.
“And believe me, I’m not too keen on meeting up with him again even if he thinks I’m on his side. But he said a couple things that I’m curious about, and I’m compelled to follow up on them.”

“Did he threaten you? Harm you in any way?”

“Julia, he told me about the evidence that was dismissed. I was at the trial, but obviously not privy to sealed information. The only physical evidence that connected Theodore Glenn to those four murders was DNA evidence found on Anna Clark’s body. Without that, all you had was Robin McKenna’s testimony on his sexual relationships with the first three victims and the old woman who saw him coming out of Brandi’s duplex the night of her murder. An old woman with bad eyesight. No weapon was ever found, and no evidence discovered in Glenn’s house.”

“His house was immaculate,” Julia said. “He is obsessively neat and ordered. He’s also very intelligent, with a borderline genius IQ. This creep knows how to clean up after a crime.”

“But there
was
evidence that was thrown out, correct?”

Julia stared at her, then nodded. “That should tell you that he’s guilty as sin. I watched his interrogation. After Brandi Bell died, Will Hooper interrogated him for hours. What Glenn
didn’t
say was more important than what he
did
say. But the truth is, that man is a psychopath. We
know
he killed Bethany Coleman, as sure as I’m breathing. But we couldn’t use the evidence because of a screwup in the field. The DNA was contaminated. It happens, as much as we hate it—we are all human, mistakes happen. But that doesn’t make it hurt any less, knowing that because of that screwup we had nothing to hold him on after Brandi’s murder.”

“Why didn’t you arrest him after Bethany’s murder if you had the evidence, even if it was contaminated? At least interview him?”

“Brandi Bell was murdered two weeks after Bethany. The evidence hadn’t been processed until the eyewitness identification, and that was when the contamination was discovered.” Julia sighed. “We have one of the best labs in the country, but they still can’t process evidence immediately. There’s still a two-to four-week turnaround on most evidence, longer if there’s a big case pending that takes more staff time. You know how it is.”

“Now that’s a story I can run with.”

“What? Attack the people who work their asses off to catch killers?”

“No, about how the government spends billions of dollars on pork and next to nothing on basic services.”

“More power to you if you can get some attention to this problem.”

“So the evidence was thrown out and Will Hooper had to let Glenn go.”

“I’ve worked with Will since I became a D.D.A. and I’ve never seen him so angry or frustrated with the system. But we had physical evidence linking Glenn to the Anna Clark homicide. Irrefutable evidence, as you remember from the trial. His hair in her fist. The bleach he poured over her body didn’t touch her hand, and the evidence was preserved. With the same M.O., Robin McKenna’s testimony, and the known sexual relationships with the first three victims, we had enough evidence to tie Glenn to all four murders. Enough that a jury of twelve people had no reasonable doubt that he was guilty.”

“If the police suspected Glenn after Brandi was murdered, why didn’t they put a tail on him? Jessica was killed four weeks later.”

“You’ll have to ask Will Hooper about what the police did and did not do.” Julia averted her eyes.

“I know what happened, Julia. I just wanted to know what you knew.”

Julia was about to respond when her door burst open and both women jumped. Trinity turned to see Connor Kincaid, a local P.I. who’d been a cop years ago. She’d heard he and Julia were involved.

Right now, Connor looked like he wanted to hit something.

“Frank Sturgeon is dead.” He faced Julia. “No arguments. I’m taking you to a safe house. Far from San Diego.”

FOURTEEN

Will had first sat face-to-face with Theodore Glenn after Brandi Bell’s murder. His partner Frank Sturgeon leaned against the interrogation room wall, glowering.

They’d thought they had a solid case and could keep this twisted killer in prison. Will had also thought he was dealing with the typical, arrogant killer who would talk himself into a confession if Will played him just right.

By the end of the interrogation, Will knew he had a different breed of sociopath on his hands.

Two women were dead and Will faced their killer.

They’d kept Theodore Glenn in lockup overnight. The day before, a witness during the canvass had come forward with a description of a man who had left Brandi Bell’s house early that morning. According to Robin McKenna, the description matched a regular patron of RJ’s, a man who had dated both victims.

Theodore Glenn.

They’d arrested Glenn at his home without incident. In fact, he almost seemed to enjoy it. “I’m sure we’ll get this all straightened out soon enough,” he’d told Will.

Now, the bastard was looking at him with idle curiosity. He didn’t fidget. He didn’t talk nervously. He didn’t
fume. He looked as crisp and neat as when they’d brought him in the day before.

“What can I do for you?” Glenn asked, a faint smile on his lips.

“You’re a regular at RJ’s, a club in the gaslight district, correct?” Will asked.

He nodded.

“Please speak your answers out loud for the recording, Mr. Glenn.”

“Yes, I go to RJ’s once or twice a week.”

“How long have you been a regular customer?”

“About a year, maybe a little longer.”

“Why?”

“Why do I enjoy going to a strip club?” Glenn raised an eyebrow, smiling.

“When did you first go to RJ’s?” Will asked.

“A colleague of mine had his bachelor party there last year. I thought the dancers were quite talented. And very attractive. Not like some of the clubs in town showing only old, tired women with sagging breasts and no attitude.

“I particularly enjoyed Brandi. She was the head dancer, very gifted. I’m sorry something happened to her.”

Will watched carefully as Glenn put a frown on his face and shook his head back and forth. There was a falseness to Glenn’s actions, as if he were an actor following a script.

“I also enjoy watching Robin McKenna.”

Will kept his expression in check. Why would Glenn mention Robin specifically? To play with him? A tickle of fear crept up his spine. What if this bastard was watching Robin? What if she was his next target?

Had Will been so wrapped up in Robin that his instincts went south?

“Where were you last night?” Will asked.

“With a lady friend of mine.”

“A dancer at RJ’s?”

“No, not last night. A colleague. Ingrid Vanderson.”

“How long?”

“All night.”

“Where?”

“At my home.”

“Do you have contact information for Ms. Vanderson?”

“Of course. It would be in my address book. I believe you took that from my house.”

Too cocky, overly confident. Most innocent men would be protesting. Upset. Especially at having been kept in jail overnight.

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

“I don’t think I need to answer any more questions, do I? I’ve given you my whereabouts last night, and the woman I was sleeping with.”

Frank suddenly slammed his fist on the table, always the one to play bad cop. “We have a witness who places you at the crime scene at the time Brandi Bell was tortured and killed.”

Glenn didn’t even blink. He showed no reaction to Frank’s temper, and in fact didn’t even look at him, responding instead to Will. “Your witness is mistaken.”

Will knew from Robin that both Bethany and Brandi had had a sexual relationship with Theodore Glenn. “Did you know Brandi Bell outside of her employment?”

“Do you mean did I see her outside of the club?”

Will nodded.

“Yes.”

“Did you have an intimate relationship with her?”

Glenn nodded with a sly smirk. “Yes, I had sex with her.”

Will tried, but knew he failed, to contain his surprise at the admission. Killers with personal ties to the victim often denied it until confronted with solid evidence. Even then, they often continued with the lie or made excuses. “When was the last time you had sex with Ms. Bell?”

“Hmmm, about a month ago. Let’s see. February second. Yes. There was a rerun of that movie
Groundhog Day
on one of the cable stations. They play it every year now, don’t they? It gets tiresome, but Brandi enjoyed it. We had sex once during the movie, on the floor of her living room. Then afterward, we had a late dinner. Sex on the kitchen table—have you ever done that, William? Sex on the kitchen table?”

Will gritted his teeth. Glenn was toying with him. There was no way he could have seen him and Robin. No way. They had been in his town house. The blinds were closed…

“When was the last time you saw Brandi?” Will asked Glenn.

“Last week. At the club. Friday. I’m there every Friday, and most Wednesdays. Ask Robin. She always makes a point to come by my table and say hello. Now there is a beautiful woman. I’ve often wondered, as I watch her remove her clothes, why such an attractive, smart woman would take the job of a slut?”

Will’s fist hit the steering wheel.

Carina was in the passenger seat. She turned and frowned at him, but said nothing.

He drove directly from Frank’s house—where his former partner had been gunned down sitting at his kitchen table—to The Eighth Sin. He’d had a call from dispatch that Robin McKenna had left a message for him, but when he tried her number no one answered. He called the unit watching her loft and learned the uniform had driven her to the Sin for a meeting.

“I’m sorry, Will.” Carina thought he was thinking about Frank and how his former partner died. But Will had been remembering that first interrogation. Glenn had controlled it from beginning to end. Will took another shot at him later that day, but the damage was done.

Glenn had sabotaged his relationship with Robin. Planted seeds of doubt in his head about her. After Anna’s murder, Will had been too ready to believe that Robin had been the intended victim, that she had slept with Glenn, just like the first three victims. Because it was Glenn’s M.O., and Anna didn’t sleep with men. She was a lesbian.

“I’ll kill him,” Will muttered.

“Stop.”

Will swallowed, pushed Robin from his mind and focused on what Glenn had done to his retired partner.

“You saw the scene. Frank was drunk. Likely passed out. And Glenn walked in and shot him in the face.”

“You don’t know—” Carina began.

“Hell yes I do! It was Glenn. You know it, I know it.”

The cocky bastard was sly as a fox, slippery as a snake. And Theodore Glenn wanted Robin. He’d always wanted Robin. Because she had refused him. Had said no, not interested.

A man like Theodore Glenn would never tolerate rejection.

Yet Will had doubted Robin after Anna was killed. Doubted her because he knew the M.O. The facts. The damn evidence. Glenn had relationships with all the victims. Anna wasn’t supposed to be in the apartment that night—she was supposed to be at her mother’s house in Big Bear. According to Robin, Anna hadn’t told anyone else that she was gay. She feared she’d be fired if anyone knew. So that night, Robin would have been home, alone, if she and Will hadn’t been having sex in the bar.