Killing Fear

Will clenched his teeth. “I disagree, Frank. I went to his appeal hearing last year. I looked him in the eye. He wants revenge.”

“Who wouldn’t? We put the scumbag behind bars. Now that he’s free, he’s not going to waltz around town taunting us.”

“Don’t be so sure.”

“He comes for me, I’ll take him down before he blinks.”

The idea of Frank with a loaded gun terrified Will. He’d probably shoot himself in the foot before he killed an intruder.

There was no getting through to Frank. It had been the Glenn investigation that soured Will’s relationship with his partner, and nothing had changed since.

“Fine. If you see him, call.” Will pushed back from the table. Carina followed suit.

Frank stumbled up. “Hey, you know, I can come back, help in the office. With the task force. I know this guy, you could use me.”

Will stared at him. The desperation and loneliness was clear, but all Will saw was his own future. “You know the rules, Frank.”

Frank reddened. “You know, I was a detective while you were a little brat living in Chicago. I know a thing or two about scumbags like Theodore Glenn.”

Will turned, not wanting to listen anymore. He shouldn’t have come; he should have called, but he thought Frank deserved the face-to-face.

Frank didn’t like being dismissed. “If it wasn’t for me, you’d never have caught that bastard!”

Will should have walked away. Instead, he stepped toward Frank. Why hadn’t he seen who this man was years ago? If he had only faced the truth, he would have gone to Chief Causey earlier. Will was just as responsible for Jessica’s death as Frank.

“If it weren’t for you, Jessica Suarez would still be alive.”

“Fuck you, Hooper. I knew it was you who fucking turned me in to Causey. Told him I was drinking on the job. Asshole.” He lunged for Will, who easily sidestepped him. Frank stumbled, then braced himself against the wall.

Will said, “The only thing I regret was not trusting my instincts earlier and getting you pulled off active duty.”

Frank reddened. “So, what you going to do now? Go protect that hot little whore you were fucking?”

Will didn’t know he was going to deck Frank until his fist connected with his jaw. Shit, that hurts.

Frank stumbled, and Will glared furiously, hand throbbing, blood burning. He didn’t lose his temper, not like that. He didn’t get in fights, he didn’t react with violence.

Frank called Robin a whore.

So did you, buddy.

“Hey!” Carina shouted, her hands outstretched, stepping between the two men.

“Glass houses, Hooper!” Frank pulled himself off the floor. A beer bottle fell from the table and broke. “I should have fucking told the chief that you were screwing a witness!”

Will swallowed uneasily and left, heading directly for his car.

“What the hell was that about?” Carina said as she slammed the passenger door closed behind her.

“Nothing.”

“Don’t lie to me. Again. This has to do with that Robin McKenna, doesn’t it?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Should I arrest you for assault?”

“Leave it alone, Carina.”

“Don’t shut me out, Hooper. We’re partners. I need to know what’s going on. Did you have something going on with a witness?”

“This has nothing to do with you!”

“The hell it doesn’t. I’m your partner, Will. I thought I was also your friend.”

“Dammit, Carina-”

“Take me home. I’ve had it up to here with you. Do you think I’m so stupid that I don’t see that there’s something more going on? You slugged Frank Sturgeon, a cop. A drunken slob, but still your former partner. If I say something to piss you off, are you going to slug me, too?”

Will tried to interrupt, but Carina was on a roll. “What’s this all about, Will? I feel like I don’t even know you.”

“Carina, I-”

She put up her hand. “I don’t want excuses or lies. You have until tomorrow morning at oh-eight-hundred to decide if you trust me. And frankly, if you don’t trust me with this, how the hell do you trust me to cover your ass? And if I can’t trust you to tell me the truth, how can I trust you to cover mine?”

He pulled the vehicle in front of her house. Carina had the door open before he put on the brake. Without another word she stormed up the front walk. Her fiance, Nick Thomas, had the door open before she could retrieve her keys, and they kissed. Nick said something to her, she answered, and he looked at Will in the car, a frown on his face.

Will drove away. How could he tell Carina that he had screwed up seven years ago and had an affair with a witness?

Talking about it with Carina would bring it all to the surface. How hard he’d fallen for Robin, and how much he hurt her when he walked away. Because it was easier to walk away than admit his feelings.

“You’re an asshole, William Lawrence Hooper.”

Four days after Bethany died, when Robin still didn’t know Theodore Glenn was a killer, Robin had gone to visit Detective Hooper at the police station. She had to do something proactive. Not knowing what was going on in the investigation, or if the police even cared, gave her sleepless nights.

She couldn’t put Bethany from her mind.

“You wanted to see me?”

Robin stared at Detective Hooper, wanting to hate him, wanting to consider him part of the problem, but she couldn’t. He was a cop doing his job, trying to find out who killed her friend.

He slid a Diet Coke in front of her, turned around his chair, and sat across from her, arms casually draped over the back of the chair, stormy blue eyes full of compassion and intelligence. Faint laugh lines radiated along the edges. He was handsome and all that, but more than his good looks he looked at her as if she were a valuable person, someone who commanded respect, who should be treated well.

“You okay, Robin?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Bethany is dead. I don’t know what to do. I’m scared and mad and I want to quit and I want to fight all at the same time.”

“That’s normal,” he said.

“Is it?”

He nodded.

“Be honest with me,” she said. “Are you going to catch whoever killed Bethany?”

He looked at her for a long time. “I don’t know,” he admitted. She hated the answer, but appreciated that this man trusted her with the truth. “We have some evidence, but no solid suspect.”

“But you’re still working on it?”

“Absolutely. I’m not going to bury the case, Robin. That I promise you.”

“It’s just that-the press is talking about us like we’re hookers. Almost like”-Robin forced out the words-“like Bethany deserved to be killed.”

“Robin.” Will’s voice was firm. She looked up at him again. “The press is always looking for the sexy angle, something to sell papers or get people to watch the eleven o’clock news instead of reruns. Bethany has