Killing Fear (31 page)

“Patrick Kincaid—I almost forgot he was a beat cop back then. I was his training officer, before I made detective.” Will smiled wanly. “I’ll personally vouch for Patrick. And it’s not like we’ll be able to question him, he’s in a coma.”

“Is he related to your partner?”

“Brother,” Will said.

“Officers Doug Holmes and Roger Supan—they’re still on the force,” Will said. “Supan may have made detective last year, I don’t remember. Neither are in my precinct.”

“Stu Hansen and Diana Cresson are both still in the lab,” Jim said.

“I suggest we move cautiously on this.”

“There’s no motive,” Jim said.

“That we know about,” Will clarified.

TWENTY-SEVEN

It was nearly eleven thirty when Will and Hans arrived at the police station. He’d already spoken with Trinity twice, and agreed to be “caught” at twelve ten right outside the rear entrance of the police station.

Will briefed his boss, Chief Causey, then went up to the e-crimes unit while Hans used Will’s desk to call Washington.

He knocked on the door of Patrick’s old office. Someone else had moved into it. He couldn’t blame the department, but knowing everyone had gone on with their lives and his best friend was still lying in a coma hit Will hard.

“Come in,” a gruff voice said.

Will entered. Doug Myers looked haggard sitting at his desk. “You left a message that you had information about the law firm associated with Glenn.”

Doug handed him a file folder, a big grin crossing his face. “I got nearly everything you needed.”

“Nearly? What did you find?”

“The money. Glenn paid nearly three hundred thousand to the North Bay Law Offices for legal defense. But this other corporation you had me track down? San Diego Investment Corp? Glenn’s escrow accounts have transferred nearly five million dollars over the past two years to ten different accounts in and out of America, through SDIC. Corporation within corporation to hide the identity of the individuals involved.”

“But you have a name?”

“Alan and Eve Reston.”

“Eve?” Will asked. “Alan and Eve—Alan is Glenn’s middle name. But why? Who set it up? How deep was Sara Lorenz in with Glenn?”

“Who?” Doug asked, but didn’t wait for the answer. “So I’m working on blocking the accounts, but I can tell you it’s not going to be easy.”

“I can get the Feds on it.”

“Good luck. You can probably lock down the U.S. accounts with a warrant, but some of these countries are going to take weeks or months. Or never. And he could easily move the money before then.

“I did find one local connection,” Doug added.

“And?”

“The corporate filings for SDIC and the law firm are in San Diego. They have a local post office box, same zip code.”

Too close to be a coincidence.

“Can I see that?”

Doug handed him the corporate paperwork. The zip code was indeed a San Diego number, identical for both—the boxes were only a few numbers off. “This is a downtown zip code,” Will said as he wrote down the information and thanked Doug.

He called Hans on his way out of e-crimes.

Hans said, “I’ll alert Homeland Security to flag the passports for anyone with the last name of Reston. We can’t assume that they’re using the same names, however.”

“He could simply drive across the border,” Will said.

“One problem at a time. Border Patrol is on the lookout. We have a stop on the Arizona/California border in case he plans to leave California, and others at Calexico, Tijuana, and other likely exits.”

“I don’t have to tell you how screwed we are if he goes to Mexico. It’ll be virtually impossible to get him out, especially if he has money.”

“I’ve already alerted my legal attaché, but you’re right. If he crosses the border, we may never see him again.”

“I sense a ‘but.’”

“I can’t see him leaving without making an attempt to see Robin.”

“You mean kill her.” Will swallowed heavily. “I won’t give him the chance to get that close.”

“I think he’s torn—he’s smart, knows we have Robin under lock and key. But he wants to get at her in the worst way. He may be rash, and we’ll have to be expecting it.”

Will wasn’t about to forget it. He switched gears. “What I want to know is, where is Sara Lorenz?” Will asked. “She’s the key to this, and it’s like she disappeared off the face of the earth.”

“If she’s still alive, she’s just as dangerous as he is,” Vigo said.

“Why do you say that?”

“Because she’ll do anything for him, and her own life doesn’t mean anything to her.”

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Mario asked Robin after she told him about closing the Sin.

She nodded, her stomach tied in knots. “I have to.” She had her staff schedule on her computer and all their personal phone numbers. She began calling, and for the most part everyone was understanding.

“I’ll cover your wages for your scheduled hours,” she told them. “I wish I could do more.”

At noon she took a break and watched the news, waiting for Trinity Lange’s report. She didn’t have to wait long.

“Trinity Lange, reporting for KSTV outside the San Diego Police Department. Less than seventy-two hours ago, escaped convict Theodore Glenn broke into my home and admitted to murdering Bethany Coleman, Brandi Bell, and Jessica Suarez.”

Pictures of Robin’s friends came on-screen. Though the photos were only seven years old, they seemed so young.

Trinity came back on camera. “But in an odd twist of events, Glenn denied killing Anna Clark. In fact, he demanded that I investigate his claims.

“I encouraged him to turn himself in and address his argument in the proper venue, but Glenn left and is suspected of murdering retired SDPD Detective Frank Sturgeon, who had arrested him.

“I turned over the information to the police as well as pursued my own parallel investigation. To recap the crime, Anna Clark was killed in the same manner as the three previous victims. She was tortured with an X-ACTO knife, doused in bleach, and had her throat slit. She bled to death and was discovered by her roommate.

“One difference between the victims, as presented in court, was the fact that Anna Clark was the only one of the four women who had not had a personal relationship with Mr. Glenn. The first three victims were all ex-girlfriends of the convict, though according to testimony they had all parted amicably.

“Another difference in the crimes is that Ms. Clark was cut twenty-two times, not forty-six, forty-seven, and fifty-five times as were the first three victims. In addition—”

Will stepped out the door and Trinity spun around. “Detective Hooper! Detective Hooper, please tell KSTV viewers about reopening the investigation into Anna Clark’s murder.”

Will frowned, glared at the camera, then turned to Trinity and said in a clipped tone, “A joint task force between the San Diego Police Department and the Federal Bureau of Investigation has exhaustively reviewed the evidence related to the Anna Clark homicide. The FBI agrees with the evidence presented at trial. It was collected properly, the M.O. is consistent, and physical evidence places Theodore Glenn at the crime scene. His hair was found tightly clasped in the victim’s hand. He may have thought the bleach would destroy all evidence, but he was mistaken. In Anna Clark’s death, she fought her attacker and we are confident that Glenn was rightfully convicted.

“The Anna Clark case is closed.”

He turned and walked away, the camera and Trinity following. “Detective Hooper! Any news on Theodore Glenn’s whereabouts? Are you any closer to capturing him? Who is next on his list, or do you know?”

Will spun around. It was clear to Robin from the expression on his face that this part of the staged interview hadn’t been planned. “We will hunt down that animal and he won’t know what hit him. Theodore Glenn will be back behind bars sooner rather than later.”

“Do you have any leads?”

“No comment.”

Trinity wrapped up the scene as Will disappeared from camera. “To reiterate, Theodore Glenn escaped during the tragic San Quentin earthquake on Saturday where eighty-one people died, including twenty-six prisoners and four guards…”

Robin shut off the television.

“You okay?” Mario asked.

She nodded and resumed her calls. She’d never be truly okay until Glenn was back behind bars.

Or better yet, dead.

Carina caught up with Will in the bull pen. “Just got a call back on the woman in Anaheim, Jenny Olsen, who wrote to Glenn. Remember, we found her car at the library? The Feds paid her a visit. She started by lying, they threatened jail time, she caved. She saw Glenn on Sunday night, late—about eleven thirty p.m. Gave him her car the next morning. Swears he was a perfect gentleman and we obviously had the wrong man.” She rolled her eyes. “The Feds were not amused and arrested her for aiding and abetting a fugitive.”

“Anything else?”

“Mario called. Said Robin shut down the Sin. Paying her staff at least through the weekend.”

Will frowned. “Closed it? Because Glenn’s on the loose?”

“She’s concerned about the safety of her employees and customers.”

It was a smart, responsible move, but it had to have hurt. The Sin was Robin’s business, her livelihood.

Will pulled out the slip of paper he’d written the post office box number on. “It looks familiar,” he explained after bringing Carina up to speed on the e-crimes part of the investigation. “The fact that two corporations affiliated with Glenn have the same post office zip code, I think we need to stake it out.”

Carina opened her file on the case. She flipped through the reports. “Here,” she pointed.

“Same post office that Sara Lorenz uses? Definitely no coincidence.” He called Hans and clued him in. “I’m sending an undercover team over there,” Will said. “And instead of picking her up, I’ll have her followed.”

“People don’t always check their boxes daily,” Hans commented.

“This is the best lead we have so far.”

“I agree. I saw your interview with Trinity. I think it went well.”

“I hope it doesn’t lead Glenn to her doorstep,” Will said.

“You beefed up her protection.”

“I told her to get out of town, but she refused.”

“That’s all you can do.”

“I can put her in prison for her safety,” Will mumbled, with no intention of doing it. “Robin closed the Sin.”

“I thought she would,” Hans said.

“Anything more on Lorenz’s cell phone?”

“We’re tracing the numbers. So far, nothing has panned out.”

An idea came to Will. “Doesn’t the post office require a physical address on file?”

“I’m not sure,” Hans said. “But I can check. I see what you’re getting at, I’ll see if they have any address for Lorenz or the corporations.”

Will hung up and said to Carina, “Where is Sara living if she’s not at the house she owns?”

“Friends? Family?”

“We couldn’t find any family on her. But what if one of these corporations Doug tracked down owns property?”

“You’re a genius,” Carina said.

“I just hope it leads somewhere, because I’m getting nervous.” Will dialed Doug’s line and added to his partner, “Glenn has been quiet for too long. He’s going to make a move. Soon.”

Theodore paced, furious over the
pathetic
newscast. Trinity Lange put on a good show, but she had done
shit
to prove he hadn’t killed Anna Clark.

The Feds had looked into the case in two days and ruled that everything was fine? Since when did government bureaucrats work that fast?

And then William called him an
animal.
Some low-intelligence four-legged nothing. He was
something,
better than the cops, better than William. Smarter. Tougher. Not limited by conforming to an inane man-made moral structure. He could do
anything.
He’d BASE jumped off the highest bridge in the world. He’d flown a twin prop in thunderstorms that would have frayed the nerves of the most skilled fighter pilot.

He could do anything. Be anything. Get away with anything.

And they called him an
animal
!

What about the women he killed? What were they? Oh, that’s right,
victims.
Didn’t matter that none of them were pure, that they were anything but
innocent.
But slice a couple of sleazy strippers to death and suddenly they become
innocent victims.

Stupid fools. Framing him for Anna’s murder to get him out of the way. Maybe
William
had done it. Maybe he’d killed Anna, framed Theodore, so he could have Robin all to himself.

Theodore laughed. William didn’t have the balls.

Sara came into the room. “Is everything okay?”

“No,” Theodore said. He didn’t elaborate.

“I have—”

A phone rang. Her cell phone. It was a disposable phone, like he’d told her to buy, but still he was suspicious.

She answered it, not taking her eyes from his. “Hello?” She listened. “Oh, are you sure? I understand. When do you think you’ll reopen?” She waited, then said, “I’m sorry. If there’s anything I can do, call me, okay?”

Sara put the phone down.

“Who was that?” Theodore demanded. He was too close to have the cops find him now.

“My boss.” She giggled.

He stared at her, self-preservation instincts kicking into high gear.

She continued. “Didn’t you wonder how I learned so much about Robin McKenna?”

He didn’t respond. A cold chill crept up his spine as he realized exactly what Sara meant. “What have you done?”

She shook her head. “No, it’s all fine. I didn’t use this address, I used a P.O. box, different than our corporate address. I have a completely different identity over there, a driver’s license, fake social, everything. I’ve been working at The Eighth Sin over a year, no one suspects—”

He slapped her. “I told you to tell me
everything
you were doing. You kept this from me! What were you planning to do? Keep me in the dark forever?”

“Pl-please. Listen.” Sara took a deep breath, took a step away from him, her eyes bright with fear.

She continued. “Everything is fine. Just fine. I know her schedule, I know where she lives, I know everything about her. I know that she still sleeps every night with the lights on.”