The Third Victim

by Phillip Margolin

  “Are you okay?” the girl asked.

  “Of course I’m okay,” Regina snapped, furious that this child was questioning her competence.

  The girl stepped back, startled. “I didn’t mean to upset you, but you’ve been standing here for half an hour and you looked lost.”

  Fear coursed through Regina. How could it have been that long?

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

  “That’s okay. It’s just that I drew you the map a while ago. Then I came up front to clean a table and I saw you were still out here. Is everything okay?”

  Regina faked a smile. “This will sound ridiculous, but I don’t remember where I parked.”

  “You told me you drove into the mall to ask directions. Your car should be near our restaurant, don’t you think?”

  “Yes. That makes sense.”

  “Do you have your key?”

  “My key?”

  “You can press a button on a lot of them and the car will beep or flash its lights. It helps you find it if you forget what floor you parked on in one of those big garages.”

  “Of course.” Regina forced a laugh. “I should have thought of that.”

  “Here, let me have the key and let’s see if we can find your car.”

  Regina gave the girl the key and they started walking along the line of cars near the sandwich shop. The girl pressed a yellow button several times before they heard a noise. The girl turned in a circle as she continued to press the button. Then she stopped.

  “Is that yours?” she asked, pointing at Regina’s Mercedes.

  “Yes!” Regina said as the tension drained out of her. “Thank you so much.”

  They walked to the car and the girl looked inside. Then she smiled at Regina.

  “You have a GPS. I can help you punch in your address and it will guide you.”

  “Would you? I can never get the hang of the thing.”

  The truth was that she could not remember the steps she would have to take to make the GPS work.

  “Sure. Where’s home?”

  Fifteen minutes later, Regina found the freeway ramp and got back on a familiar route. She wiped away the tears that had started as soon as she was out of sight of the young waitress. She had never been so scared and had never felt so lost. Aside from her marriages, Regina had never failed at anything. She had always been first in high school, college, and law school, and she rarely lost any case if there was a chance she could win it. One reason that she excelled was her sky-high IQ and another was her incredible memory; only now she was having trouble remembering the simplest things and figuring out the easiest problems. She had to confront the possibility that something was wrong. There had to be a rational explanation for what had happened in the mall. But what if the explanation was …

  “No, goddamn it!” Regina swore as she shut down that line of thought. Getting lost happened. The detour had just confused her. That was all. Everyone got confused or lost from time to time. Regina laughed. She was almost sixty. She shook her head. She’d never imagined herself at sixty. It seemed so old. But she didn’t look or act sixty. She still enjoyed sex and she had the energy of much younger women. She was doing great for someone her age. And what had happened today was certainly an aberration.

  And if it wasn’t? whispered a voice in her head. Regina’s poise deserted her for a moment because there was no one she could talk to if what was happening wasn’t normal—not Stanley, not anyone at work, certainly not anyone at the Oregon Bar. Revealing what she feared could only lead to a future where she could no longer practice law.

  But that was not going to happen because she was just fine and today was just … something that could happen to anyone. Everyone got lost from time to time, Regina reassured herself. Everyone.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Jeff dropped Robin at her apartment a little after six. While she whipped up a quick meal out of leftovers, she thought about Jeff. He treated her as an equal even though she was totally inexperienced, and she appreciated the fact that he’d included her in the trip to the crime scene. They definitely got along, and she’d enjoyed his company when they went to interview Meredith Fenner and Mordessa Carpenter. The bottom line was that she felt comfortable with him. Of course, office romances were hideous, horrible ideas, but she still found herself wondering what he would be like in bed.

  Robin didn’t have a ton of experience with men. There had been two boys in college, but that was adolescent experimentation. She’d had a lover who trained in mixed martial arts at her gym in Iowa. He’d been exciting, but she’d never seen a future with him, especially after getting accepted at Yale. And the law school professor was more in love with himself than with her. So, what about Jeff? She bet he would be a considerate lover, something, she decided with a sigh, she would never find out.

  The microwave dinged and Robin fixed some tea to drink with her meal. While she ate, she thought about what she’d seen in Mason’s cabin. Was Jeff right? Had Meredith Fenner’s kidnapper put her in the hall closet because he wanted her to escape? If that was the plan, Alex Mason was the victim of a sick and twisted plot. Allison was the obvious suspect if Alex was innocent, but she had to have had a male accomplice, because Meredith had been kidnapped and brutalized by a man. Jeff had made a case for Jacob Heller. At a minimum, it looked like he and Allison were lovers.

  After she ate, Robin ran a Web search for Heller. Someone as beautiful as Allison could seduce a man and get him to do things for her, but getting someone to commit the crimes of kidnapping, torture, and murder was a little different from convincing a guy to buy a girl diamonds. Nothing she read hinted that Heller was so twisted that he would commit heinous crimes in return for sex, no matter how good the sex might be. Heller’s parents had been married for forty years, he had no criminal record, he’d been an excellent student in college and law school, and he was on the board of two charitable nonprofits—hardly the profile of a serial killer, although Ted Bundy had seemed like Mr. Clean.

  If Heller wasn’t Allison’s accomplice, who was? Robin couldn’t stop thinking about Arnold Prater, who was definitely sick and twisted. There were too many similarities between the way he beat up Mordessa Carpenter and the way the victims had been tortured at the cabin. And Tonya Benson worked for Poe, so Prater could have known her. Robin decided that she had to learn more about Prater. Jackson Wright was someone who might be able to help her.

  As soon as she finished dinner, Robin drove to the address listed in the police report of the interview with Wright. Robin was new to Portland and she expected a drug dealer/pimp to live in a slum, but Wright lived in a condo in one of the new, hot neighborhoods that had been gentrified by an influx of young professionals.

  The streets were crowded with people who were going into or hanging out around the taverns, restaurants, and shops that lined the streets near the condo. Robin searched for a parking spot and was just about to pull in when a car pulled out of the condo’s garage. Jackson Wright was behind the wheel.

  Robin made a U-turn and let another car get between her and Wright’s car. She had no trouble following him onto the freeway. A few miles later, Wright exited and headed toward an industrial area near the river. The neighborhood stores had shuttered hours before and it was dimly lit. Robin had to hang back because the streets were deserted. She turned off her headlights and followed Wright’s taillights.

  Wright pulled into a driveway that led to a parking lot behind a deserted strip mall. Robin parked down the street and jogged to the driveway. It was empty. She worked her way up to the far corner. When she looked around it, she saw Wright standing next to his car. Robin was about to turn the corner, when a man stepped out of the shadows and paralyzed Wright with a Taser. Robin stifled a gasp as she watched Wright collapse on the asphalt and twitch like a hooked fish.

  Wright’s assailant knelt beside the drug dealer and handcuffed his hands behind his back. Then he stood up and watched Wright shake his hea
d to clear it.

  “I know that hurts like a motherfucker, because we had to get Tased as part of our training.”

  Robin couldn’t see the face of Wright’s assailant, but she recognized Arnold Prater’s voice as soon as he spoke.

  “I bet you were expecting Rasheed,” Prater said, “but Rasheed isn’t coming. I busted Rasheed and he just worked off his beef by luring you here. He’s also looking forward to taking over from you. Sort of like what happened when you killed Miles.”

  “Hey, man, I’m sorry I got you in trouble,” said Wright, who was starting to recover his wits. “You understand how it was. If I didn’t say you shot Miles, I woulda gotten stuck with the murder rap.”

  “I accept your apology, but it doesn’t do me any good unless you confess.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I’ll go to the DA,” Wright promised. “Just don’t do anything crazy.”

  “Crazy? Like framing an innocent man for murder?”

  “I feel real bad about that, Arnie. Honest, I do. So why don’t you let me up and we can go to the police together so I can make it right.”

  “That would be nice, Jackson, but, unfortunately for you, I can’t trust you to keep your word. What other solution can you think of that will help me avoid prison? I’ll give you a hint. You’re the only witness who can pin Poe’s murder on me. If you disappear, the state has no case.”

  “Hey, man, don’t do this.”

  Prater shrugged. “Sorry, bro, but you leave me no choice.”

  Prater Tased Wright again. Then he took Wright’s car keys and opened the trunk of the drug dealer’s car. Prater put the Taser on the ground and grabbed Wright with both hands.

  Robin was terrified. She wanted to turn and run, but she couldn’t let Prater murder Wright. Robin closed her eyes and let her MMA training take over. She was always nervous before a fight, but she knew how to focus and become calm.

  When Prater had his hands full with Wright, Robin walked into the parking lot. Prater heard her and turned, startled. Robin knew Prater wouldn’t expect a girl to hit him, so she flashed a disarming smile and walked forward until she was within striking distance.

  “It’s me, Mr. Prater, Miss Barrister’s associate.” Robin said.

  “What are—” Prater started to say just as Robin drove her foot into his knee. Prater dropped Wright and fell back against the drug dealer’s car. Robin maneuvered to hit Prater again, but Wright’s body was in the way. As she stepped around Wright, Prater gritted his teeth and swung. Robin rolled with the punch, but it caught her on the shoulder and pushed her back.

  Prater stepped over Wright. Robin flicked a jab at Prater’s face. When he raised his hands, she drove a roundhouse kick into his thigh. Prater took a step back, and Jackson Wright sank his teeth into Prater’s calf. Prater screamed and tried to wiggle free, but Wright ground into Prater’s leg like a dog protecting a bone. Prater looked down for an instant, giving Robin the opening she needed. She smashed her foot into Prater’s jaw with all the force she could muster. Prater sagged and Robin drove the edge of her foot into Prater’s knee, forcing it to move in a direction it was never intended to go. Then she spun behind the policeman, leaped on his back, and wrapped her arm around his neck.

  Robin’s weight and the lack of support from his crushed knee made Prater topple over. He clawed at Robin’s arms as she cut off his air. He tried to gouge her eyes and punch her in the face, but she tightened the choke hold. Prater’s strength ebbed. In the Octagon, this would have been the time for Prater to tap out, but this was the street and Prater was a violent criminal. Robin kept the pressure on until she was convinced that he was unconscious. Then she looked at Wright and made a decision. She shoved Prater in the trunk and flipped the lid shut. Then she grabbed the Taser for safety’s sake and dialed 911.

  “Hey, what are you doing?” Wright asked.

  “Calling the police,” Robin said as she waited to be connected.

  “Yeah, that’s good. You gonna tell them Prater tried to kill me?”

  “This is nine one one,” the dispatcher said. “How can I help you?”

  “I just stopped a man from murdering someone. He’s subdued, but I need an officer quickly.”

  “That’s right,” Wright said.

  Robin gave the dispatcher the address. As soon as the dispatcher told her that a patrol car was on the way, Robin called Jeff. Wright backed against his car and started to stand. Robin pointed the Taser at him.

  “Sit the fuck down,” she said. “I heard you confess to killing Miles Poe, so I’ll have no qualms about electrifying your ass. Understand?”

  “I didn’t kill Miles. I just said that so Prater wouldn’t kill me.”

  “Tell it to the judge,” Robin said at the same moment Jeff picked up. “And shut your mouth. I’m not going to warn you again.”

  “What?” Jeff said.

  “Not you. I have a situation here and I need you to bring Regina with you.”

  Robin told him the address and where he would find her.

  “That’s way across town,” Jeff protested. “Can’t this wait until morning? Regina will be asleep.”

  “I don’t give a shit, Jeff. I just stopped Arnold Prater from killing Jackson Wright after Wright confessed to killing Miles Poe.”

  “What?”

  “I locked Prater in the trunk of a car, Wright is handcuffed and Tased, and the cops are on the way. So get Regina here ASAP, because I’m probably going to need a lawyer.”

  * * *

  Two patrol cars appeared within minutes of Robin’s 911 call and an ambulance showed up a few minutes later. Then Roger Dillon and Carrie Anders arrived. Jeff and Regina walked into the parking lot shortly after the ambulance left with Arnold Prater. Jackson Wright was in the back of one of the patrol cars.

  Robin’s boss talked to Carrie Anders for a few minutes. Then the detective pointed across the parking lot toward Robin, who was sitting in the other patrol car, her head back and her eyes closed. The door to the car was open. Regina stuck her head in.

  “You’ve certainly had a busy night,” she said.

  Robin opened her eyes. When she saw her boss, she flashed a weary smile.

  “I solved Arnold Prater’s case for you, but you’re going to have to drop him as a client.”

  “How did you solve the case and why will I have to get off Prater’s case?”

  “I’m going to testify that I heard Jackson Wright confess to murdering Miles Poe, so Bergland will have to drop the murder charges against Prater. I also saw Prater assault Wright and threaten to kill him because Wright was the only witness who could testify against him. Then I saw Prater start to throw Wright in the trunk of Wright’s car after Tasing him for a second time. That makes me a witness for the State in a case against Prater for attempted murder. I see more conflicts of interest for our firm than you can shake a stick at.”

  Regina sighed. “You’re right.”

  Carrie Anders walked over to the patrol car. “Miss Lockwood, are you ready to tell me why you locked a policeman-slash-client in the trunk of a car owned by a handcuffed drug dealer?”

  “I’d be glad to, now that my lawyer is here,” Robin said. “Will you represent me, Regina?”

  * * *

  “You did that to Arnold Prater all by yourself?” Roger Dillon asked, clearly awed.

  Robin blushed. “I surprised him.”

  Dillon shook his head slowly.

  “And you’re certain you heard Wright confess?” Carrie asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “You know he’s going to say he confessed under duress. He’ll swear he didn’t know what he was saying because he had been Tased and that he confessed to something he didn’t do because he was afraid of Prater.”

  “I’d expect nothing less, but he had no idea I was listening when he confessed, and he never protested when Officer Prater accused him of setting him up.”

  “Okay. You look pretty tired, so I’m going to release you. You’ll probably have to give
a more detailed statement tomorrow.”

  “I’ll be at work. Call and I’ll walk over.”

  “You look all in,” Jeff said. “Let me drive you home. Regina can follow in my car.”

  “Thanks, Jeff,” Robin said, “but I’m good to go. It’s not that long a drive.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yeah, but if it’s okay with you, Regina, I may come to work late?”

  “Get a good night’s sleep. I’ll need you fresh so we can figure out what to do about this mess.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Robin usually woke up early so she could work out before going to the office, but the next morning she slept until eight and had to pass on the gym. After she dressed, she realized that she was ravenously hungry, so she dropped into a local café for an unhealthy breakfast of pancakes and bacon. When Robin walked into the law office, Susan, Regina’s receptionist, gave her an odd look, which let Robin know that the story of last night’s adventure had made the rounds.

  Mark Berman saw her as she passed by his office.

  “Hey, Robin, hold up.”

  Robin stopped and Mark walked to his doorway.

  “Did you really put one of our clients in the hospital last night?”

  Robin blushed. “I didn’t have much choice. He was trying to kill someone.”

  Mark grinned, did a fist pump, and sang “Go Rockin’ Robin,” an old rock song her fans chanted when she fought in the Octagon.

  Robin turned a brighter shade of red. “You know about that?”

  “Sure. I’m a big MMA fan. I didn’t mention it because I wasn’t sure if you wanted everyone to know about your sordid past.”

  Robin smiled. “I’d appreciate it if you kept it that way.”

  “No problem,” Mark said. Then he flashed an impish grin. “However, as a quid pro quo, there are a couple of DAs I wouldn’t mind seeing in an arm bar. Can I count on you?”

  “Absolutely not!” Robin said as she went to her office. She had just turned on her computer when Jeff walked in.