Killing Fear (16 page)

“Fuck.”

Carina stared at him. “You don’t swear.”

“Leave me alone.”

“Screw that,” she said, angry. “We’re partners. What’s mine is yours and all that crap. At least how it relates to the job. Got it?”

Carina was right. Will had been letting the past get to him. Remembering not only the success of Glenn’s conviction, but their failures—including Frank’s drinking during the stakeout and especially seeing Robin again. When he wasn’t working specifically on Glenn’s escape, he was thinking about her.

“Got it. I’m sorry.”

“You haven’t slept much, I can cut you a little slack. But not forever, pal.”

He pulled into a parallel parking place in front of The Eighth Sin. Robin would automatically have been at the top of Glenn’s target list: She was instrumental in his conviction, and credible to the jury even after his odd cross-examination. Will’s greatest fear was that Glenn would finally kill Robin. Why had she called? It had to be serious if she wanted to talk to him.

“You had something going on with her?” Carina said softly.

“What do you mean?”

“We’ve been partners for over two years, but I’ve known you it seems forever. You’re worried about this Robin McKenna, over and above what you would normally feel for a potential victim.”

“She’s not a victim.”

Carina stared at him without comment.

Will’s body tensed. He couldn’t flat-out lie to Carina, not after everything they’d been through together, the trust they’d built. He reluctantly said, “We were involved for a while. During the investigation. It didn’t work out. That’s my M.O., right?”

“Right,” Carina said, making no move to get out.

“What? You know now, leave it alone.”

“Thing is, I
do
know you. You’re hung up on her. You don’t act like this. The only time you ever get all funky about a woman is when Wendy comes to town and you agree to go to dinner with her.”

“She’s my ex-wife.”

“Yeah, but you loved her, didn’t you?”

Will shrugged, but it was the truth. Of course he’d loved Wendy. He wouldn’t have married her otherwise. But love wasn’t enough. Not then, with Wendy and wedding vows, and certainly not seven years ago with Robin and their insatiable lust.

“Let’s go inside,” Carina said, getting out of the car.

Damn. Her anger was gone and somehow that made Will even more uncomfortable. His partner was half Cuban, she didn’t just drop things.

Carina was ringing the bell before Will closed his door. “Swanky place. I remember walking the beat down here when I was first a cop, before redevelopment. I’m glad the city cleaned it up.”

Will was proud of what Robin had accomplished. Even though they’d only been together for a few weeks, he knew she’d wanted to own her own business. And she’d done it, in style.

No thanks to him, and without him at her side, but what could he do about that now?

The intercom buzzed. “May I help you?”

“Detectives Kincaid and Hooper, San Diego Police Department, to speak with Robin McKenna, please,” Carina said.

“Please come in.” The door buzzed.

Will frowned, thinking anyone could lie and be admitted, then he saw a discreet security camera angled above the door. Of course Robin would have security. She was a smart woman.

An attractive, petite blonde woman met them in the entrance. “I’m Gina Clover, assistant manager. Robin is in a meeting, but she’ll be done momentarily. Please follow me.”

She led them through the club—metal and hollow in its emptiness—to the Back Room which was far more welcoming and comfortable with rich, earthy tones, plush dark green carpet, and a warm atmosphere.

“Can I get either of you something to drink? We have soft drinks as well as bottled water, flavored water, or perhaps some Tazo tea? It’s fresh-brewed.”

“We’re fine,” Will said, answering for both of them.

“Water would be great,” Carina said, frowning at Will. “Thank you.”

Gina nodded with a smile and motioned for them to sit wherever they liked.

The Eighth Sin was much larger than the former RJ’s, and Will realized that Robin had bought the adjoining business and expanded. He couldn’t remember what had been in this space, but Robin must have been doing much better than he thought to be able to afford this. Maybe she had an investor. Maybe she had a lover…

What was it to him? He’d tossed her aside, told her that he didn’t believe her. Worse, she hadn’t defended herself.

Yet had he been in her shoes, would he have denied the accusations, pleaded his case? Hell no. He would have walked, furious and upset that the person he loved had no faith in him.

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.

“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.”