Killing Fear

by Allison Brennan

  If he couldn’t forgive himself, how could he expect Robin to forgive him?

  After the assistant manager delivered Carina’s water, Carina said, “First Sherry, then Frank. Connor has good reason to be worried about Julia, and I’m glad he took her out of town. Maybe you should be watching your back as well.”

  “He’ll kill me last,” Will replied.

  “What?”

  “He wants me to see everyone else die before he comes for me,” Will said with certainty.

  “I thought Robin McKenna was his primary target.”

  “You have to understand how his mind works. He plays off people’s fears. I’m a cop. I protect people, or like to think I can. With every person he kills, he’s showing me I’m a failure—I can’t even protect the innocent. It’s Glenn’s way of twisting the screws. But with Robin—”

  “Does Glenn know about your relationship with Robin?” Carina asked quietly.

  Will almost said no. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I didn’t think so, but—he said some things during the interview after Brandi was murdered that made me think he’d been following Robin.”

  “Stalking her?”

  “Yes, but not in the traditional way we think of stalkers. I think he wanted to see how she reacted to the other girls being killed.”

  “Then why wouldn’t Glenn want to see Robin’s reaction to you being killed?”

  “Because Robin doesn’t care about what happens to me,” Will said. “We haven’t been involved in seven years.”

  “He doesn’t know that.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not.” But that gave Will something more to chew on. What, exactly, did Theodore Glenn know about his life? Or Robin’s? Had he found a way to track her while in prison? Did he have help? Will couldn’t imagine Glenn confiding in anyone, but he was charismatic and manipulative. Maybe he did have someone working with him. A subservient.

  He said as much to Carina.

  “You’re beginning to sound like Dillon,” Carina said, talking about her brother.

  “I’m sure Dillon would agree with me. I arrested Glenn. He’s smart, shrewd. For example, he knew Frank was a drunk. I remember that first interrogation, Frank playing bad cop, me playing good cop.”

  “You always play the good cop,” Carina interjected.

  “Thing was, I wanted to go for his throat. And Glenn knew that. He understood the game. He had both of us pegged the minute we arrested him. And for the last seven years he’s been planning revenge. He knows how to get under my skin.”

  “You know, and that’s half the battle, Will. You’re expecting it, you can stop it. Don’t let him in. Don’t make it personal.”

  It’s always personal. While he could distance himself from the suffering of victims and the violence of criminals, when it came right down to it, it was always personal—he was the cop, it was his job to serve and to protect. When he couldn’t, he took it personally.

  A door, flush against the wall when closed, opened. Soundproofing had prevented any noise from escaping and Will hadn’t noticed it. A tall, muscular, dark-skinned Cuban exited, followed by Robin. She was smiling, looked stunning in jeans and a soft dark purple sweater. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, but wisps had escaped. She looked both young and wise at the same time.

  Damn, he missed her.

  A tightness crossed his chest when she shook hands with the man. Jealousy? What right did he have to be jealous?

  “Thanks, Mario. My business is in good hands.” She glanced at Will. “Let me introduce you to the detective in charge of the task force.”

  Mario nodded, turned to face Will. Will didn’t recognize him, but Carina did. “Hey, Mario!” She walked over and slapped his hand in a complex handshake usually reserved for use between men. “Good to see you.”

  “Cara, how’s it going? Patrick hanging in there?”

  Sadness crossed her face. “Hanging in,” she said.

  “Ma has a prayer group meeting weekly for him.”

  “I know it’s helping.”

  Will cleared his throat. Carina made the introductions. “Mario, my partner Will Hooper. Will, Mario Medina is an old—very old”—she hit him in the ribs—“family friend. We went to school together. After a few years in the military, he opened up a private security company.”

  “You don’t keep in touch,” Mario said. “My sister tells me you’re getting married.”

  Carina grinned sheepishly. “Yeah, I am. Three weeks. I’m sure you’re on the invite list. My mom is inviting the world. They won’t fit in the backyard, I keep telling her.”

  “We’ll manage.” He clapped her on the back. “I’ll be there if I’m not working. I’m happy for you.” He looked at Will. “I’m putting a team together to cover the Sin. As long as my men are watching, no one will be hurt.”

  Great. Cocky and a friend of the Kincaids.

  “I’m glad you hired security,” Will said to Robin.

  She stared at him blankly, but her eyes clouded. What was she thinking? Why couldn’t he read her?

  “Mario’s the best,” Carina said confidently, smiling at Robin. “Hi, Robin. I’m Detective Carina Kincaid, Will’s partner. Nice to meet you.”

  Robin smiled and shook Carina’s hand, her eyes darting between Carina and Mario. Not looking at him.

  “What about you?” Will asked, turning to Mario. “What’s your plan for security on Ms. McKenna?”

  Mario said carefully, “As long as she’s here, she will be covered.”

  “What about her residence? Her free time?”

  “One of my team will escort her from the Sin every evening. We’ll make sure she arrives home safe.”

  Will frowned. “Robin, what about your loft—”

  “You have the cops sitting out front. As long as no one falls asleep, I’ll be safe.”

  The jab hit as hard as Robin intended. She hadn’t heard about Frank’s death yet, and Will didn’t say anything.

  Will asked through a clenched jaw, “You called the station and said you need to talk to me.”

  She reached behind the bar and tossed him a CD encased in a thin plastic case. “Glenn called me. I recorded the conversation.”

  Will hid his surprise. “You expected him to call?”

  “Yes,” she said, chin up. She glanced at Carina and her confidence wavered a fraction. “He called earlier,” she admitted softly. “I hung up on him. Then I hit myself for being so stupid. It took him fifteen minutes to call back. I had enough time to get it together.”

  Will barely noticed Mario and Carina exchange a glance. “Robin, he’s not going to stop until he goes after you.”

  “Then I’ll kill him.” Robin turned and lifted up her sweater, revealing a holstered gun in the small of her back. Will didn’t know why it bothered him that Robin was packing, but he was frustrated. Private citizens shouldn’t have to carry weapons to feel safe, but Robin obviously had cause for a CCP.

  Will asked, “Do you have a death wish, Robin?”

  “What do you want? You came here yesterday, did your duty. Warned me only eighteen hours after I heard about his escape on the TV news.”

  Will bit back an argument. “Do you have a CD player?”

  Robin held out her hand and he tossed back the CD.

  She played it through the bar’s speaker system. Hearing Glenn’s voice coming from all around gave Will the chills. He looked at Robin, saw that she was having a difficult time listening to it again. He marveled that she had the wherewithal to set up the recording in the first place. It took brains and courage. She caught him staring at her, averted her eyes.

  Glenn said, “I will kill you, Robin, slowly. And the last thing you see before you die will be my smile.”

  “Fuck you!”

  “How’s William?”

  Will’s jaw clenched tight. Glenn would kill Robin if he had the opportunity, and Will vowed never to give him that chance. Between her private security and San Diego PD, Robin would be safe.

&nb
sp; “He’s going to kill you,” Robin said, her voice cracking at the last moment. She cleared her throat. “He killed my friends to hurt me. He thinks killing you will hurt me, too.”

  Will’s head spun. Robin was concerned about his safety? Glenn had baited Will by dropping Robin’s name during interrogation, and was now baiting Robin by dropping Will’s name. Theodore Glenn was playing on their personal fears, and doing it damn effectively. Will couldn’t let him in.

  Don’t make it personal.

  Right.

  “What phone did he call you on?”

  “My house phone,” Robin said.

  “Is it listed?”

  “No.”

  Mario said, “But that doesn’t mean anything. Unlisted numbers are easy to get if you know what you’re doing.”

  “Or he could have help. Someone who’s been keeping an eye on Robin while he’s been in prison.”

  Robin sat heavily on a bar stool and Mario took her arm. “Are you okay?” the security expert asked, his voice concerned. Will felt a pang of jealousy. He should be the one consoling Robin.

  “Why? Why would anyone want to help a killer?”

  “You’d be surprised,” Carina said. “Sometimes they don’t even recognize that they’re aiding and abetting.”

  “He’s not going to get to you,” Will told Robin. “I won’t let him.”

  Carina reached behind the bar and popped out the CD. “I’m going to call this in, get our people working on tracking down the number he called from. It might take a little time to get the information out of the phone company, but we should have it by the end of the day.” She nodded at Mario. “Let’s check out the security system while I make the call.”

  “I already—um, right. Let’s do that.”

  They left. Will was alone with Robin. Her chin tilted defiantly up, jaw clenched. “Robin, please. You never let me apologize.”

  She blinked rapidly. “You never tried.”

  “Hell yes I did!”

  Her jaw dropped. “Your idea of a fucking apology was pathetic! You accused me of bringing it on myself, that what I did naturally made you doubt me.”

  “I never said that!”

  “I guess you didn’t have to.” She turned from him. He went to her, put his hands on her shoulders.

  “You read things into that night that weren’t there,” he said.

  “Did I?”

  “Dammit, Robin! I was wrong. I should never have—but I admitted that. Right then and there.”

  “Some things you can’t take back.” She sounded so lost, so lonely. Will hated hearing her anguish.

  “I—” What could he say? That he was sorry? Again? How many times could he apologize? As many times as it took for Robin to forgive him. It pained him that he hurt her, and he’d do anything to take it all back, but that was in the past. And right now, nothing he could say would take away the pain and anger that stood like a brick wall between them.

  He turned her to face him. She was so close. So beautiful. Her eyes, damn, her eyes highlighted her kind and generous soul. How had he ever doubted her? How had he questioned her loyalty? Her honesty? Her love? He touched her jaw, her skin so smooth and flawless she could have been eighteen as easily as the thirty-one he knew she was.

  His thumb skimmed her lips. A faint cry escaped her throat. Will remembered holding her that first time, when he’d taken her home after she came to him at the police station to ask what the police were doing about her friend’s murder. They’d gone to dinner, and had a few drinks, and she told him everything about RJ’s and her friend Bethany Coleman. She’d been drained, and he’d never felt so protective of a witness.

  Now, he needed to touch her again. He bent, touched his lips to hers.

  A hint of a kiss wasn’t enough. It would never be enough. He sank into her like a dying man, thirsting. His hands found the nape of her neck, rubbed, held her, devoured her lips.

  He’d get on his knees and beg her forgiveness if it would help, but maybe, just maybe, his kiss would be enough. His kiss would show her how sorry he was. His kiss would prove Will had never stopped loving Robin.

  She gasped, not expecting him to touch her. To put his lips on hers. She wanted to give into him, to hold on and let him take her away to the moon as he’d done before. After Sean, it had taken her years to let a man into her heart. The one man she’d opened up to was this one, this cop, and he’d sliced her to the bone with one question.

  “Did you sleep with Theodore Glenn? Are you next on his kill list?”

  She put her hands up. Her heart wanted Will back, her heart wanted to forgive him, but her head knew the truth. That there would always be doubt in his mind. He hadn’t believed her then, when he’d claimed to love her. Why would he believe her now when they had nothing but regret and bitterness between them?

  She’d done nothing wrong and he hadn’t believed her. She’d seen it in his eyes. Heard it in his voice. She couldn’t live with that shadow of doubt between them.

  Using all her emotional strength, Robin pushed him away. There was nothing more that she wanted except to bring Will Hooper home with her. To have him protect her. Save her, not only from a killer, but from deep, numbing loneliness. Even with her business, her painting, with all that she did, she went home alone every night. The hollowness grew, and she was drowning in her empty life.

  But Will Hooper was not the man she could allow into her world. Not again. No matter how scared she was, how lonely she was, she wouldn’t, couldn’t, let him get close.

  He stared at her, his smoky blue eyes pained. They mirrored her heart. She swallowed. “You have the CD. I hired a bodyguard. You don’t need to come by anymore.”

  He stayed silent for a long moment. The tension between them was palpable. She wanted to touch him. She wanted him to hold her. She wouldn’t allow herself to flinch, to show even one iota of interest toward Will Hooper. He’d never know how much he’d hurt her, deeply, inside, where who she was mattered.

  And she’d never show him.

  “Glenn killed Frank Sturgeon. Early this morning.”

  She sucked in her breath. She wasn’t surprised, but the reality stung. There was no love lost between her and Frank—she had never liked that man—but she’d never wanted him to die.

  She nodded. What could she say?

  “That’s it?” Will asked, his hands on her shoulders. She forced herself to be a stone.

  He dropped his hands and said curtly, “You know the danger. You hired security. You won’t have to see me.”

  He turned, walked away, and Robin held her breath. Just go, Will. Please go.

  He stopped, turned, and looked at her from the doorway. “I messed up with you, Robin. And no one is sorrier about that than me.”

  Then he was gone.

  FIFTEEN

  Will agreed to meet Trinity late that evening at Bob’s Burger across from the police station. She’d spoken cryptically, essentially telling him she had additional information about her meeting with Theodore Glenn the night before. To say he was angry was an understatement—had she kept important information from the police?

  He sat in the bar section of the bar and grill and ordered a double Scotch while he waited. He didn’t normally drink when working a complex case, but if he was going to sleep even a couple hours tonight, he was going to need something.

  Chief Causey had called him earlier to tell him the Feds were on their way. Specifically, one agent by the name of Hans Vigo who had some familiarity with the case and was a criminal profiler. Causey had cleared it, and now Will had another partner.

  Not that he minded, as long as Vigo was one of the good guys. The truth was, the FBI was hit or miss, depending on who they sent. Sometimes they screwed with the locals, sometimes they helped. At this point, Will could use an objective eye, someone who might be able to figure out where Glenn was hiding or who might be helping him—if anyone.

  That Theodore Glenn seemed to have just disappeared irritated Will to no end
. They had hundreds of cops in both the city and county on full alert for Glenn. His picture was plastered in all media outlets—television and newspaper. His parents’ house was staked out 24/7. The bulk of Glenn’s assets were in a trust administered by the court, but he still had enough resources available to him. By law, the court could only retain the amount necessary for restitution. The bastard was worth over ten million dollars plus whatever interest had accumulated. When he was put to death, the remaining assets after legal expenses and restitution would be given to his surviving family, in this case his parents.

  Not that they would take much consolation in receiving the money. Not with both their children dead. Nor would Glenn’s money help their little granddaughter Ashley accept or understand the brutal murder of her mother. Her mother who had done the right thing and was now dead.

  Where was Theodore Glenn right now? They’d sent officers to hotels and motels in the area, both cheap dives and upscale establishments. Glenn was a neat freak, Will couldn’t see him in a dive, yet his self-preservation was paramount and therefore maybe he would tolerate the filth. Maybe he’d learned to, being in San Quentin—one of the most decrepit prisons in California. They were talking about selling it, over four hundred thirty acres of prime California real estate right there on the San Francisco Bay.

  There were nearly one thousand hotels, motels, and weekly apartments in San Diego County. Glenn didn’t have any friends left, the trial had killed most of the loyalties anyone may have had with him. But he was charismatic and Will didn’t doubt Glenn could talk his way into or out of virtually anything.

  Look at Trinity. She was nearly convinced that Glenn hadn’t killed Anna. To what end? Will wanted justice, he wouldn’t want a killer to get away with murder, but he honestly didn’t believe that had happened in this case. The evidence was clear, but more than that, Will had faced Glenn and knew in his gut that Glenn had murdered those women. He was vicious, cruel, sadistic, and had absolutely no remorse for his crimes. He enjoyed the game, and playing with Trinity was just another game to him. A thrill. He’d pled not guilty to all four counts of murder, yet told Trinity he’d killed three of the four women. What was his angle?