TWENTY-FOUR
Will walked outside with Hans. He instructed the patrol to be on alert, then pulled Hans away from the other cops.
“She’s going to be okay,” Hans told him.
“We laid a bomb on her tonight,” Will said, frustrated. While last night he’d been only half convinced that Glenn
“You don’t know that. She could have been already dead. You could be dead now. You can’t second-guess yourself in this business. It’ll eat you up. We make difficult decisions instantly and then spend years thinking about every fraction of a second. What if we did this, what if we did that. I’ve worked hostage negotiations, and I’ve worked with hostage negotiators who were on the edge because they began to question themselves after an assignment went bad.” Hans stared Will in the eyes. “Don’t do it. You can’t afford to lose your judgment now. You’re going to have to make those difficult decisions, and you can’t doubt your instincts and experience.”
Will let out a pent-up breath. “Who? Who wanted to kill Anna?”
“Or, who wanted to kill Robin?”
Hearing it out loud unnerved Will. “Other than Glenn,” he added.
“It’s nearly two in the morning.” Hans Vigo glanced at his watch. “She’s worn out and on edge right now. We’re going to have to talk to her in the morning about her life back then. But first we have to bring in Jim Gage.”
“Because of the evidence on scene.”
Hans said, “I’ve played with every scenario I could think of, but the only thing that makes sense-if we agree that Glenn didn’t kill Anna Clark-is that someone involved in the case killed her and framed Glenn by planting the evidence.”
Will nodded. “Hair would be easy forensic evidence to plant. It doesn’t need special storage, like blood, and it doesn’t degrade.”
“The follicles would degrade after a short period of time,” Hans said, “and I need a more detailed report as to exactly how the hair was tested and what they found.”
“I don’t like this.”
“Neither do I.”
“We do this quietly,” Will said, rubbing his face. “I’ll talk to Trinity again tomorrow, make sure she keeps it off the air. If Anna’s killer thinks we’re looking into the case again, he may get scared and do something rash.”
“And we have to consider that the killer may already know. Trinity’s report wasn’t all that secret.”
“They wouldn’t know we took Glenn’s comments seriously. Hell, I pretty much called Trinity a fool for even considering the possibility.”
“Which gives us a break. Everyone knows how you feel about Glenn, you’re running the investigation, and if you don’t give credence to Glenn’s claims, then no one else will.”
“What if we asked Trinity to play along with us?” Will suggested, an idea popping into his head.
“How so?”
“We do an interview. Say only what we want Anna’s killer to hear. Trinity can go public with the fact that Glenn contacted her, ask us about his statement, and we put it to rest.”
“There’s only one problem with that,” Hans said.
“It’ll piss Glenn off.”
“Exactly.”
“We’ll keep watch on Trinity 24/7. And give her an out. Let her say no. We issue a formal statement through Chief Causey, get the information out there either way.”
“But Trinity Lange is respected and known,” Hans said. “It would give credence to our statement.” He gave a quick nod. “If both she and your chief go for it, I think it’ll work. It’ll buy us time to find Glenn. Once he’s behind bars we’ll all rest easier. But until then, you’re one hundred percent confident in Jim Gage?”
“Yes. No doubts.”
“Then we need to meet with him out of his office tomorrow. Away from any police hangouts.”
“What about here, at Robin’s place?”
Hans agreed.
“Let me set it up with Gage and smooth the way,” Will said. “He’s not going to like what we have to say.”
“He doesn’t have to like it. He just has to keep his mouth shut.”
Robin relished her privacy. Running a popular club, always having her social face on, was draining. Having people in her home was equally draining.
She couldn’t consider anyone but Theodore Glenn killing Anna. Not tonight. Her head was pounding and all she wanted to do was go to sleep.
But she feared the nightmares.
She contemplated drinking herself to sleep, but didn’t want to use alcohol as a crutch. More important, what if Glenn came around? Tonight, tomorrow, the next day? She needed to be on full alert.
She walked over to her art corner, looked at the project she hadn’t touched since Saturday. It was going to be a gaslamp scene, an expression of her love for this area and the people who lived and worked here. The view was of storefronts on the same street as the Sin. She’d taken a series of photographs from two corners, and had designed the piece to reflect both sides of the street, focusing on perspective and color.
She loved working with color.
Her first art show was Sunday. She didn’t want to cancel, but she didn’t see that she had a choice. If Glenn wasn’t in jail by then, how could she put all those people in jeopardy?
She had to make the decision about opening the club tomorrow as well. They would normally open at five in the evening. They had a large after-work crowd who mostly came to drink, listen to music, and socialize. They blended into the evening dance crowd that really came on scene around nine.
She didn’t want to close. Her business would suffer. Her employees counted on their wages. Could she afford to pay them without bringing in income? Not for long. Maybe for this weekend. But it wasn’t just wages, they received more in tips than they did in their paychecks.
She turned away from her art, which usually brought her joy. There was no joy left tonight.
A loud rap sounded on the door. She crossed over and looked out the peephole, expecting Mario.
Will stood there again. Staring right back at her, though Robin knew he couldn’t see her.
Her heart jumped. Her emotions were on overload, but she admitted she was relieved-happy-to see him.
She turned off the alarm, unbolted the door, and let him in. “I thought you’d left.”
“I walked Hans out. Can I come in?”
Robin stood aside, let Will in, then rebolted the door and reset the alarm. She put her forehead against the door. “Will, he’s going to kill you.” She couldn’t believe that was the first thing she said, but it was her greatest fear.
“No, he’s not.”
Will was right behind her. His hands were on her shoulders and he squeezed. She stifled a cry. She’d wanted him to touch her. Stay with her. Protect her from her fears and doubts. Reconnect with him, rediscover what they’d lost seven years ago. If only she had forgiven him back then, would her life have been different? Maybe she wouldn’t feel so alone.
She said in a whisper, “Do you really believe that someone else killed Anna?”
“Yes,” Will said, his voice tight.
She began to shake. The more she tried to control it, the worse the shaking became.
“First things first,” Will said, turning her to face him. His eyes explored her, his arms wrapping around her, keeping her close, rubbing her shoulders. “We’ll recapture Theodore Glenn. He’s the immediate threat. Don’t forget that. Whoever killed Anna thinks they got away with it. Hans and I are going to do everything we can to make them think just that. So if you hear on the news tomorrow that we don’t give any credence to Glenn’s statement, don’t believe it.”
