Killing Fear (39 page)

“How so?” she asked.

“Come on, I’m sure you felt the same way I did. I mean, the victims were
strippers.
Probably prostitutes as well.”

“There were five calls for solicitation at RJ’s in the year prior to the first murder,” Diana said.

Will didn’t react to the information Diana shared, but it proved that she remembered far more about the case—and Robin—than she’d admitted.

Will shook his head. “I don’t know what I was thinking getting involved with one of them.”

“You’re a man,” Diana said. “They know how to lure good men into their trap. You’re lucky she didn’t get herself pregnant. Trap you.”

Will didn’t dare look at Hans, wished he had Dillon to play off of.
Get herself pregnant.
There was something there…

“Yeah, lucky indeed. But good riddance, right?”

“Can I go?”

Will opened his notepad, fumbled around. “Yeah, just—oh. Hey Vigo, look at this.”

Hans leaned over, nodded solemnly. “Hmm.”

Will was showing him nothing of importance, but said to Diana, “You said the case box Jim was carrying was from 2008?”

She nodded.

“Dammit, I can’t believe I missed this!” He slammed the notebook shut. “Stuart Hansen lied to us. I need to bring him back.”

“Stu?” Diana paled. “He wouldn’t lie.”

“I didn’t think so, but he swore up and down that Jim was carrying a case box from 2001.” He leaned forward. “Diana, we have evidence that proves Theodore Glenn didn’t kill Anna Clark. Now I know who did. Hansen.”

“Stu couldn’t kill—” She stopped, and Will almost saw her mind working. “I can’t believe it. Why would he?”

“He screwed up the Bethany Coleman crime scene,” Will said coldly. “If it weren’t for his mistakes, we’d have nailed Theodore Glenn after the first two murders. Frankly, I wanted him fired. But Jim defended him, defended his entire team. And then Stu kills him.”

“Stu? No—”

“We know that Jim took home the Anna Clark case files.”

“But then Stu was telling the truth, they were from 2001—” She stopped.

Will leaned forward. “Then you were lying.”

“You’re wrong.”

“You said the case files were from 2008.”

“I was mistaken.”

“You were certain.”

“I—no.” She took a deep breath. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Will. You just said that Stu killed Jim—”

“Stu was under surveillance,” Will said.

“He could have slipped out.”

“So were you.”

“What? You had
me
under surveillance? I’ll sue you! You can’t—”

“Yes, we can. And you know what? You could have slipped out as well. You
knew
we were on to something. Jim never leaves the office early. He had a difficult time thinking that someone he knew and trusted had killed an innocent woman and framed Theodore Glenn. He had to get out of the building, look at the evidence, see what he could find. His only mistake? Running into you outside in the parking lot. When you saw the 2001 case files you panicked. Thought Jim had figured it out, or would figure it out. You went to his house, shot him, stole the files.”

“No!”

He ran a hand over his head, then slammed it on the table in front of him. “Yes! You killed Jim. Why?”

“I didn’t! And you have no proof. Do you think I’m this stupid? Do you think that I don’t know you’re trying to get me flustered? Why are you doing this to me, Will?” Tears clouded her eyes.

Carina walked in and silently handed Will a note, not looking at Diana. Carina had written
Fry her.

Will watched Carina leave. “We have the warrant.”

“What?” Diana exclaimed.

“Stanton found a sympathetic judge. We have enough to search your house—”

“No! I’ll get it thrown out. You can’t prove—”

“What can’t I prove, Diana?”

“Don’t do this to me, Will.”

“I’m not doing anything to you,” Will baited her. “You killed Anna Clark and planted evidence to implicate Theodore Glenn. Not because you cared one way or the other about his victims or whether he went to prison, but because seven years ago you wanted Robin McKenna dead.”

“No.”

“Dammit, Diana! Tell the truth for once! We’re going to find everything. Did you already destroy the case files? It doesn’t matter, because those were copies. The FBI has the originals. What about the gun? You don’t own a gun, but you have access to guns. I will personally test fire every gun in lockup until I find the gun that killed Jim Gage. Starting with the gang shooting you investigated this week.”

Diana’s mouth opened and closed repeatedly. “No, no, no,” she mumbled. “It’s not like that.”

“Then what the fuck is it like, Diana? You killed Jim for the thrill of it?”

“No!” She was shaking. “I didn’t—I didn’t want to hurt anyone.”

“I don’t believe you. You wanted to kill Robin McKenna, didn’t you?”

Diana’s face hardened. Her eyes flashed with hatred.

“You were screwing her! You were jeopardizing your career for a slut. You were all discreet about us, didn’t want anyone to know we were sleeping together, but with her? You didn’t care who knew. I can’t believe you picked her over
me.
”

Will stared at Diana, furious that he hadn’t seen what she was capable of. “You killed Anna because you were waiting for Robin. You’d planned on framing Glenn all along, but you called me from the apartment. Why?”

“Theodore Glenn killed her,” Diana whispered, frantically trying to hold on to the web of lies. “He was convicted of her murder.”

“You went to Jim’s house because you saw that he had the box of files from the Anna Clark homicide. You figured out that he was looking into the case, even though I specifically told the press that the case was not being reopened.”

“No.”

“Stuart Hansen has already told us that he saw the case number on the box and it was a 2001 case number, not a recent case number as you said,” Will repeated, pushing Anna hard.

“I—I must not have seen it right. Or Stu’s lying. Why aren’t you asking Stu these questions?”

“You went to Jim’s house. Premeditated. You took a gun out of evidence and shot him when he opened the door. Then you went into his office and took the case files. You had to know what we knew about the Anna Clark homicide.”

“No. No. No. I want an attorney and I want an attorney right now!” She crossed her arms and stared at the table.

Carina walked in. “I have the ballistics report.” She handed it to Will, then glared at Diana Cresson. “Jim Gage was a good man and a good friend and you will burn in hell for killing him.”

Will stared at the report. This wasn’t another fake out, but the Sheriff’s Department really came through. Jim was shot with the same gun that killed one of the gang members in Diana’s case. The gun itself was missing. Though it had originally been logged in to evidence at the scene, it was not currently in the evidence room or in the lab.

The case wasn’t airtight, but Will had enough. And with a warrant, he was confident he’d find enough evidence at Diana’s house to turn over to the D.A.

Knowing who killed Jim Gage didn’t make him feel better. The case was solved, but a good friend had been killed in the process. Will would live with the weight of Jim’s murder for the rest of his life. And though he knew Trinity’s broadcast had nothing to do with Diana’s decision to kill Jim, if only Will had found another way to handle the case maybe Jim would still be alive.

“Carina, would you like to do the honors?” he said quietly to his partner.

“Diana Cresson, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law…”

THIRTY-SIX

Will hadn’t planned on returning to Robin’s that night. It was after two in the morning when he found himself in her building.

Chief Causey had called off all police surveillance in light of Glenn’s flight to Mexico. With the budget crunch, the overtime was already stretching their thin resources even thinner. And while Will understood the chief’s decision, he sensed that Glenn would return sooner rather than later. Will was relieved to see that Mario had kept one of his men on Robin’s loft.

He tapped lightly on the door, exhaustion weighing heavy on his heart and mind. How was he going to explain to Robin what happened with Diana? How could he tell her that his ex-girlfriend planned to kill her because of some twisted obsession? How could he admit he never suspected while he dated and worked with Diana that she was capable of cold-blooded murder?

How was he going to explain the D.A.’s decision about prosecution?

Robin answered the door moments later. She wore a paint-smeared smock and held a brush in one hand. Her nose had a dab of blue on the tip. He couldn’t help but smile.

“You’re painting.”

“Yes. I feel alive.” She leaned forward and kissed Will. “When was the last time you slept?”

“I don’t remember. I have six hours before I have to go back.”

She crossed the room to her studio space, recapped her paints, and pulled off her smock. He followed closely, needing to hold her. His lips touched hers and he caught her breath with his mouth, pulling her into a sizzling kiss. A kiss that reached deep inside him. A kiss that meant more than a prelude to sex. A kiss that said
I love you, you’re mine, I’ll never let you go.

He pulled back, then went in at the opposite angle. Robin wrapped her arms around his neck, melting in his arms. He was home. Wherever Robin lived was home to him now. It didn’t scare him, it didn’t send him running for the door, instead it gave him a sense of love, hope, and the future that he’d never had before.

If Robin had doubted Will before, she didn’t now. How could she when he devoured her with such passion?

He scooped her up in his arms and carried her around the partition to her bed. He put her down, lying down beside her, his hands in her hair, his mouth delicately touching her lips. The quiet emotion sang to her soul. She sighed blissfully.

Sex between them had always been rough and tumble. Even the other night, after seven years, they devoured each other as though starved. Tonight was different: Will set a slow pace, an intimate approach that she’d never experienced with him before.

His mouth trailed down to her neck where he planted small, wet kisses along the sensitive curve of her throat. She was torn between pushing him to go faster and harder or urging him to keep drawing out the pleasure. She wore a tank top, and his tongue played with the tops of her breasts, riding the edge of her shirt, dipping long licks down, making her moan in anticipation.

“Will,” she gasped, reaching down to pull off her top.

“Let me.” He grabbed the bottom of her shirt in his fists and slid his hands up her body, his mouth following the path of the shirt as he removed it, landing once again on her mouth.

Robin wrapped her arms around his neck and pinned him to her, their embrace hot, deep, slow. Her hands rumpled his hair, moved down to his shirt, and she yanked it up.

“I need to feel your body against mine,” she told him. “I want you naked. Now.”

“Patience, sweetheart.”

His kiss stopped her from arguing, and he pulled off his shirt quickly, his body hot to the touch, his chest rippling with barely controlled passion. She wanted him, like this, pelvis to pelvis, chest to chest, lips to lips, all night. She sensed he held back, and she urged him to move faster.

He leaned up, looked down at her face. He was as flushed as she. “I am going to make love to you, Robin. Slowly. Not one inch of your skin will be untouched, un-kissed, unloved. I will show you I love you.”

“I know you—”

“
Shh.
Let me do this for us, Robin.”

She nodded, unable to speak as he leaned forward, in anticipation of another breathless kiss. Instead, he moved down to her breasts. His mouth claimed one while his hand squeezed the other. No small caress was this, he focused his entire attention on her chest until her skin glistened and she gasped. Then he switched, his hand fondling her now-sensitive nipple while his mouth worked on the other. Her hands kneaded his head, his shoulders, everywhere she could reach. She reveled in the heat his body generated, in how he made her feel.

His tongue left a hot, wet trail from her chest to her navel. He popped open her jeans and slid them down her hips, pulling them off with her panties, his mouth skimming over her most sensitive area, just enough to make her shiver in excited anticipation. “Will,” she breathed, unsure if she’d spoken aloud or not.

Then her jeans were off and on the floor, and Will was kissing her feet. He moved up, so slowly, so patiently. She’d never seen Will patient, not in bed. She loved their fast and furious lovemaking, but this was so much more intimate, more meticulous and loving, that he took her breath away.

Lightly, he bit her calf. Nibbles, followed by deep kisses. She gasped, involuntarily spread her legs when he licked under her knees, then his bites moved up her inner thigh, skipping over her very wet spot, and down the other inner thigh.

“You’re torturing me,” she gasped.

“I’m loving you,” he said, then spread her legs and devoured her.

She arched her back, not expecting the orgasm to hit her so quickly. She held on to Will as she came down, but he didn’t let up, bringing her back up fast.

“All’s fair,” she moaned and pushed him off her and rose to her knees.

Will loved so much about Robin, including her love of getting physical in bed, but seeing her naked, kneeling on her bed in front of him, her hands on his shoulders, satisfied expression mischievous, gave him a rush. It had been all he could do to hold back and not penetrate her. Holding back with this sexy woman was a challenge, but one that obviously pleased both of them by the look on Robin’s face, and the heat spreading through Will’s body, pooling hard between his legs.

She unbuttoned his jeans and pushed them down, freeing him. He tried to push off his pants, but she held his hand, took his fingers and put them in her mouth, one by one. In and out. His thumb. His index finger. His middle finger. Once she got to his pinky he was shaking and more than ready to bury himself in her.