“Hmm.”
“So?”
“So what?”
“Was Robin the intended victim?”
“I don’t know.”
“That doesn’t help.”
“Okay, let’s play this out. Anna Clark was supposed to be out of town. I assume this was common knowledge?”
“Yes.”
“So the killer would have every reason to believe that Robin would be coming home, alone, that night. So he breaks into the apartment, and either finds Anna there, or Anna arrives while he’s waiting for Robin. He has to kill her.”
“If Anna arrived while the killer was there, the killer would have to have called Will.”
“Was the phone dusted?”
Jim looked over the reports. “Yes. Only smudged prints.”
“That’s odd.”
Jim’s stomach sank. Why hadn’t he seen that before? There should have been clear prints from at least whomever used the phone last.
“The killer wore gloves. Called Will. Why did he want Will to find the body?”
“If Robin was the intended victim, the killer knew about Will’s relationship with her. Wanted Will to be the one to find her,” Dillon said.
“That’s almost exactly Glenn’s M.O.,” Jim said. “Glenn got his thrills first from making his victims suffer, then watching Robin’s reaction to the news when she learned they were dead.”
“But Jim, Anna’s killer hasn’t killed again, at least not in the same manner. Which suggests that this was a personal crime. A premeditated crime of passion.”
“Passion?”
“Look at Robin’s ex-boyfriends, other people at the time who may have stalked her.”
“It sounds too coincidental that she would have two stalkers-Glenn and this unknown killer.”
“She led a public life, exposed herself in front of thousands of men. I can see how more than one might be unbalanced enough to kill.”
“But to also be a cop?” Jim made a note. “At least this gives me something to go on. Thanks, Dillon.”
“Anytime, Jim. And I’ll think more on it. Call me if you have anything new, I’m happy to help. But you should run the scenario by Will and Agent Vigo. He’s a good guy, by the way. I’ve worked with him before.”
“Glad for the recommendation.”
Jim hung up, drew up a detailed time line and the list of suspects. He also made a note that perhaps someone in law enforcement who wasn’t directly involved in evidence collection had accessed the information. It wasn’t unheard of, and the evidence locker wasn’t restricted to law enforcement personnel. Anyone from the D.A.’s office to cops to the crime lab could go in there and simply sign in. They could easily lie about what evidence they were viewing. No one double-checked, unless they were removing it from the locker.
And something as small as a few hairs could easily be concealed.
Ten minutes later his doorbell rang. He rose from his desk, glanced out the peephole, confused more than concerned.
He opened the door. “You could have called.”
“I could have.”
Jim barely noticed the gun until three bullets hit him in the chest.
THIRTY-ONE
Will knocked on Robin’s door after midnight. He’d debated going home, but he wanted to see her. She’d seemed so lost after she learned that the woman helping Theodore Glenn had been in her employ for the past thirteen months.
Mario had left one of his men guarding the door. “Detective,” the man acknowledged.
Robin unbolted the door and let Will in. As soon as she closed and locked it, Will took her in his arms, her body up against the wall. He kissed her as if it were for the last time.
Her arms went around his neck and she pulled him to her, drinking in his embrace as if she hadn’t seen him in years and still loved him.
With Robin, he never wanted to wait, he wanted to make love to her wherever they were, at the drop of a hat. It had been that way since the moment they first met, but he didn’t want their relationship to be built solely on lust. He wanted the connection they’d begun before he blew it, the one he prayed they could find again.
“Robin,” he murmured, pulling back.
“Hmm,” she mumbled, her voice heavy with sleepy desire.
He kissed her neck, so white and long and soft. He felt the vibration of a moan in her larynx, so he kissed her again.
Will picked her up and carried her to her bed.
“The bed? That’s a novel idea,” she teased.
He didn’t smile back. “I blew it with you, Robin. I won’t blow it again.”
Her smile faltered. “And having sex in bed has something to do with that?”
“I want to make love to you.” He kissed her neck again. “I want to show you how much I love you.”
“Will, please-”
“What? What’s wrong?”
“Just kiss me.”
“No.”
She frowned. “What are you doing?”
“I’m not doing anything other than trying to fix what went wrong. I know exactly what you’re doing.”
She tensed beneath his body. “Do you? So smart.”
“You’re pushing me away.”
She literally pushed him off her. “That’s pushing you away, Will. Why are you doing this? Why are you trying to make more of us than there is? Why can’t we just enjoy each other and not talk about all that other stuff?”
“Because what happens between us is important. It’s more than sex. You know it as much as I do. I love you, Robin. You have to listen to me.”
He sat next to her on the bed. She rested her head on her arched knee and looked at him, large green eyes exposing her hope. She was so beautiful, comfortable and sexy in her partial nudity. “I made a mistake by not going after you seven years ago and telling you I was wrong. Look at it from my viewpoint-I saw the M.O., I made a judgment call. I was wrong.”
“You were wrong about me. I told you-”
“I know what you told me, and I should have believed you, but I’m a cop, okay? People lie to me all the time.”
“I’ve never lied to you, Will.”
“Do you love me?”
“What kind of question is that? How can you expect me-?”
“Do you love me? If you’ve never lied to me, answer that question.”
Her bottom lip quivered and Will almost felt bad for pushing her. “Oh, God, I want to, Will.” Tears formed in her eyes.
He gathered her back into his arms. “I want you to love me, Robin. More than anything. I’m not going to let you walk away this time. You mean too much to me. My only regret is that I didn’t see it seven years ago. I was too self-absorbed, too scared that I was falling in love and would screw it up again.”
He brushed back her hair, unable to keep his hands off her. She leaned into his caress. “I gave up the one person who would have made a real difference in my life. The one person who gave me more life, more joy, than anyone else. You’re the first and only woman I’m willing to give up everything for. My job. My friends. My life. I’ll go anywhere to be with you, I’ll do anything to convince you that I want to live my life with you in my bed, at my side, in my heart.
“Seeing you again after seven years of drought-it brought everything into perspective. Being a cop means nothing to me without you.
“So I ask you, Robin. Do you love me? Do you love me like I love you?”
Robin couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. The pain and fear and anguish washed down her cheeks and she wrapped her arms around Will. “I’ve always loved you, Will. From that first night, I’ve loved you.”
She showered him with kisses. “No more apologies,” she whispered in his ear. “No more what-ifs. I’m not going to run anymore.”
They were naked in minutes, taking and giving everything they had, joining in the exquisite moment where you know for certain that the person you love loves you the same way.
After, Will watched Robin sleep. The peace
on her face was the same as in his heart. For now, for these quiet hours before dawn, they could forget everything except each other.
But reality intruded much sooner than Will expected.
THIRTY-TWO
Carina was already at the crime scene when Will arrived. She wasn’t handling Jim’s murder well, and Will didn’t blame her. She and Jim had been romantically involved years ago, and they’d remained good friends.
Nick Thomas, Carina’s fiance, had driven her to Jim’s house after she got the call. He stood on the periphery, giving Carina space, but knowing just as Will did that she wouldn’t be able to work the case. She was too close to the victim, too emotional. Even the responding officers saw that and kept Carina from walking into the house.
Will sat in his car several minutes, his head on the steering wheel. What had they done wrong? Had their news conference backfired? Or had Theodore Glenn come out of hiding?
Nick approached his car and Will got out. “How’s Carina?”
Nick shook his head. “I didn’t want her to come, but-”
“She had to see for herself.”
“Help me take her home.”
Carina was pacing on the front lawn of Jim’s house. “Finally,” she snapped when she saw Will. “What were you doing? Fucking Robin while Jim was shot to death?”
“I’m going to forget you said that,” Will said through clenched teeth. “Go home, Carina.”
“No. I’m working this case. Jim was my friend. I thought he was yours, too.”
“He is.” Was. “Please, Carina. You’re not going to be any help in this state.”
“What state is that? That I care? That I want justice? If I see Theodore Glenn I’ll shoot first. That bastard. That bastard!” Tears of rage and anguish coated her eyes. “He killed him in cold blood. For no reason other than the fact that Jim was doing his job!”
Will put his hands on her shoulders, felt the tension ripple under her skin. “See, Carina? You’ve already gotten it wrong because you’re too close to this case.”
“What in the world are you talking about?”
“Theodore Glenn didn’t kill Jim. Jim opened the door to his killer. Jim knew the person who shot him.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the crime lab van pull up. “Carina, trust me on this one. Let Nick take you home. I’ll call you and tell you everything.”
“Promise?”
“Yes.” Will nodded at Nick to grab Carina.
“Let’s go home, Cara.”
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, letting Nick escort her to their car.
Will strode over to where Stuart Hansen and Bonnie Jamison were pulling equipment out of the van. “What happened?” Both looked stricken.
“I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to leave. The sheriff is on the way.”
“The sheriff? Why?”
“You know the victim.”
“Is this because of that report on the news? Did Jim know something?”
“You know protocol. I’m sharing jurisdiction with the Sheriff’s Department. You need to leave.”
Stu looked like he wanted to argue, but he quickly packed up and he and the junior tech drove away.
Will took a deep breath before walking up to the front door where two uniformed cops guarded the house. The door was open, Jim’s body on the floor, three bullet holes in his chest. The responding officers had checked for vitals, but Will himself also checked. He couldn’t believe Jim Gage was dead. They’d worked so many cases together. They hadn’t always been friends, but Will had complete respect for the scientist. No one was better at the job than Jim Gage.
Gloves on, Will walked the crime scene. Jim’s desk had a half-eaten bowl of soup and near-empty beer bottle on it. The workspace was clear. Would Jim have sat down at his desk to eat dinner? Will doubted it, unless he’d been working on something. Something related to this case.
Something that a killer didn’t want anyone else to see. Something, maybe, that Jim had called him about earlier.
I wanted to bounce a couple ideas off you. No rush, call me in the morning.
Why hadn’t Will called him back? Or stopped by his house? Jim wasn’t even supposed to be working the Anna Clark case. They’d agreed to bury it until Glenn was caught. It was supposed to be business as usual so as not to tip-off Anna’s killer.
Agent Hans Vigo entered the room. “I’m sorry,” he said. The man looked much older than his fortysome years, weary and gray. “I didn’t think Anna’s killer would come after Jim.”
“It wasn’t Glenn.” Will stated the obvious.
Vigo shook his head. “Jim wouldn’t have opened the door to him. I had a message from Jim thirty minutes before he was killed. He had a theory he wanted to run by me.”
“Same here,” Will said. “He said he’d talk to me in the morning.”
“His theory died with him.” Vigo looked at the bare desk, frowning.
“How could this happen? No one-except for Chief Causey, Trinity, and Carina-knew we’d concluded Glenn hadn’t killed Anna. I watched the tape of Trinity’s broadcast several times and she emphatically stated that the case was closed. We didn’t put anything in writing.”
“We don’t know what Jim may have said or done,” Hans reminded him. “He’d obviously been working on it, since he wanted to talk to both of us. Perhaps he called the wrong person. We need his phone records ASAP: from home, his cell phone, and his desk at the lab.”
“Jim is responsible. He wouldn’t have let anything leak.”
“You don’t have to defend him,” Hans said. “I’m not accusing him of anything. Maybe he didn’t say or do anything, it could have been something he didn’t say or do that made our killer suspect something was wrong. We don’t know.”
“If Jim had an answer, he wouldn’t have left a message. He would have hunted one of us down,” Will said, trying to alleviate the pang of guilt over Jim’s murder. “We need to backtrack, find out exactly what Jim was doing, what he was working on, who he spoke with yesterday, phone records, everything.”
“Are you going to be okay on this?” Hans asked. “He was a friend.”
“I’m okay.” Okay to work the case, but he’d never get the picture of Jim’s dead body out of his mind. “The Sheriff’s Department is going to handle the evidence. I told our criminalists it was protocol, though we rarely use it.”
“In light of what we’ve been working on, that’s wise. And I can have my people put a rush on the phone records. We should have something in a few hours.”
“But first things first,” Will said. “Maybe the killer made a mistake. He didn’t have a lot of time to clear out Jim’s office. The sheriff’s criminalists may find something we can use.”
“And if that fails,” Will added, “we interview every crime scene investigator who’s been on staff since Anna Clark’s homicide.”
When Will came back to Robin’s apartment it was after four in the morning, but she hadn’t slept much.
Robin had never seen Will looking so weary. He was beyond tired, but more than that his sad eyes registered defeat.
“What happened?”
“Jim is dead.”
“Jim? The same Jim who was in my loft this morning?”
Will nodded.
“I thought-we hadn’t heard from Glenn in two days, I thought maybe he’d left the country.”
“Glenn didn’t kill him.”
“I don’t understand. Was there an accident?”
Will took her arm and moved her to the couch. She sat, taking his hands. “What happened?”
“Jim was killed at his home tonight. I screwed up big-time.” Will shook his head, trying to make sense of the senseless. “That whole thing with Trinity this afternoon, trying to divert Anna’s killer, to lead him into thinking we weren’t reopening the case-it didn’t work. In fact, it may have pushed the killer into action.” He ran a hand through his hair and leaned back on the couch, closing his eyes. “Jim was a friend.”
> Robin squeezed Will’s hand. “I’m so sorry. How do you know it wasn’t Glenn? Maybe he saw the newscast and was angry that the case wasn’t being reopened.”
“We considered that, except that Jim opened the door to his killer. No sign of force. It was someone he knew. Someone he trusted. His home office was cleared out. I don’t know exactly what Jim had with him, but clearly whoever killed Anna thought he’d found something incriminating.”
“You need to get some sleep.”
“I can’t. I’ll grab a couple hours later. I need to get down to the station and retrace Jim’s steps. I got word on my way over here that Jim left work early. That guy never leaves early. If someone was watching him, that might seem suspicious. I won’t know until I find out who spoke to him, what he said, what they saw. But what really makes this truly the worst case of my life-I know the killer. It’s someone I’ve worked with, someone I would also open the door to without hesitation. How could I work with a murderer for years and not know it?”
Robin put her head on his shoulder and Will’s hand went automatically to her hair. “I know exactly what you mean,” Robin whispered.
They rested for a few long minutes and Robin thought for sure Will had fallen asleep. She debated waking him, knowing he had work to do, but also knowing he needed at least two hours sleep just to function.
He wasn’t sleeping. He said, “I wish I didn’t have to go.”
“Me, too.”
He sighed, tilted her head to kiss her. “But I’ll talk to you later, let you know what’s going on.”
She nodded. “Take care of yourself, Will.”
“Sure,” he said without conviction, then left.
For three hours, Will almost forgot about Theodore Glenn. He and Hans worked side by side reviewing security tapes of the time that Jim Gage left the lab, poring over his e-mails, and waiting for preliminary evidence reports. Two detectives, Hazelwood and Dominguez, were working with them. Causey said they could have anyone else they needed.
Carina came in at seven thirty looking as crappy as Will felt. At the same time, Doug from e-crimes ran into the bull pen. “Hooper! I got something.”
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