Nowhere to Run (Stephanie Carovella) (35 page)

“Your God has nothing to do with it,” he spat, stroking her cheek roughly. “You get to live but first I’m going to make sure you never forget me,” he whispered, flicking the knife open and using it to trail a bloodied path down her arm.

***

The woman sat at the kitchen table, her fingers convulsing into fists. She studied the newspaper in front of her. Unable to speak, she bit back a sob. She shoved one of her first into her mouth in horror.

“My God. The poor woman,” she whispered brokenly, staring at the photograph accompanying the newspaper article she’d been reading. Tears blurred her vision, and she quickly wiped them away.

Placing her palms facedown onto the table, almost as if to steady herself, she took uneven gasps. “What did I do? Oh my God, what did I do?” she choked out, her bottom lip trembling.

Tearing her eyes away from the newspaper article, she stood and moved with shaking legs towards the telephone. Taking the telephone off its cradle, she paused before putting it back down again. She broke into another sob, shaking her head. No, she couldn’t do it. She had disappeared so she would be safe. If she told the police what she knew, he would kill her. She was terrified of him.

Sighing deeply, she shook her head again. She couldn’t be a coward. She couldn’t let him harm all these women. She needed to be strong and suffer the consequences. She was at least guilty for one of the deaths, even if it was only by association. She hadn’t known what he was really like; she hadn’t known he was using her. All he’d wanted was information so he could destroy that beautiful actress.

She had been so stupid. She’d thought he was interested in her work,
in her.
She hadn’t thought anything of it when she told him Carolyn Mathers was coming back to Los Angeles. She had wanted to impress him so badly with her inside information.

Looking down at the newspaper article titled
Actress Slain,
she exhaled. She touched the photo with trembling hands. “God, I am so sorry.”

Moving back towards the telephone, she picked it up with trembling hands and walked back to the kitchen table. Sitting down, she dialed the number attached to the newspaper article. Waiting for an answer, she said softly, “Detective Barton? This is Barbara Madden.”

Chapter Thirty-Six

Gena walked into Homicide, resisting the urge to run. Jase had called her, telling her to come down immediately to the Precinct. The urgency in his voice, mixed with excitement told her they’d caught a break in the murders. Her whole body buzzed with excitement at the prospect of any new information, no matter how small. It was better than the dead end they were constantly coming up against.

Rapping her knuckles on Delucci’s office door, she entered, not waiting for a response from Delucci. “What do we have?” she asked breathlessly, excitement dancing in her eyes.

“Leigh Walker. That’s what we have,” Delucci said smugly, leaning back in his chair.

Gena nodded slowly, waiting for more information. When Delucci said nothing more, she pressed forward. “What do we have on him?”

“What don’t we have on him is more like it,” he grunted.

Gena scowled in annoyance, wishing Delucci wasn’t being so cryptic. “Are you going to tell me Frank, or just make me guess?” she snapped, glaring from him to where Jase sat on the edge of Delucci’s desk watching her.

“He’s in the system, Gena,” Jase said, smiling at her. “He was charged with battery and assault about eight years ago. Walker’s girlfriend pressed charges against him for trying to strangle her during a domestic argument, but then suddenly dropped the charges.”

Gena leaned against the door, running a hand through her hair. “Why the hell doesn’t this surprise me? I guess you know about his apartment on Wilshire Boulevard?”

Jase and Delucci looked at her, surprise on their faces. “He has an apartment here?” Delucci asked, his eyes narrowing with interest.

Gena nodded, handling Delucci the slip of paper Stephanie had given her. “The bastard is from L.A. He was born and raised here. I think Stephanie was right. I think he followed her to England with the intention of making her fall in love with him.” Shuddering, she said, “I’d hate to think what would have happened to her if she hadn’t fallen for him, or just how far he would have gone to integrate himself into her life.”

“You’ve done your research already Evans. Nice work,” Delucci complimented her.

“I wish it was my research, but I can’t take the credit for it,” she admitted, grinning at Jase’s look of disgust.

“Stephanie,” Jase groaned, running a hand through his dirty blonde hair.

Gena nodded with a grin. “She did a little digging and called a few friends. They helped her find the apartment.”

“You don’t think she’ll do anything stupid do you? I don’t want her anywhere near Walker’s damn apartment until we’ve searched every inch of it,” Delucci growled, frown lines furrowing his forehead.

Gena laughed softly. “I left explicit instructions with Jake to shoot her kneecaps if she even tries to leave the house. I don’t think she’s ready to face what she could find there. She can’t believe Walker could be behind all of these murders.” Looking at Delucci she asked, “Are we looking to pin him for this?”

“Gena, there’s a possibility he may behind the murders,” Jase said quietly.

“You found something else?” Gena said, her voice sharpening with excitement.

“Stephanie gave me permission to photocopy every piece of information she’d kept on Katrina Andrews’ murder and the other crimes she’d followed and linked to Katrina’s murder. I brought it down to show Frank,” Jase paused, shaking his head. “Frank dug up the original file of the Katrina Andrews’ murder. It was pretty damn useless- about four pages of information. None of which, could tell us anything more than what Stephanie already had.”

Pausing, Jase turned towards Devlin. “You want to tell her what we did find though?”

Delucci nodded. He smiled at Gena, the smile not quite reaching his eyes. “While we didn’t find any other clues as to why Katrina Andrews was murdered, we did find a suspect list and you’ll never guess who was on the top of the list.”

“Walker?” Gena breathed, shaking her head in disbelief. “He was a suspect?”

“Not just a suspect, Gena, he was their prime suspect. And, here’s the kicker, he was her god damn ex-boyfriend,” Jase said.

“Was there proof he was her killer?” Gena asked, fear clawing her stomach.

“He had motive. Katrina Andrews had just ended their relationship. According to friends of Andrews, Walker was quite the possessive boyfriend, always wanting to know who she was with and where she was,” Delucci answered.

Jase nodded in agreement. “There’s more, Gena. After Katrina Andrews murder, one of her friends came forward to make a statement. She believed Walker was obsessed with Stephanie. He made Katrina dress like her. She believed Stephanie was his intended victim. She was convinced Walker was Katrina’s killer. She also stated Katrina was terrified of him. It wasn’t just one friend convinced Walker was her killer. The same statement was made by everyone who was questioned.”

Gena took an uneven breath. “What about Stephanie? What did she say?”

“No. She said she didn’t even know Katrina had a boyfriend and if so, she’d never met him,” Jase admitted.

Delucci tapped his fingers against his desk in contemplation, slowly saying, “It’s almost like their relationship was kept a secret so Stephanie would never recognize Walker as Katrina Andrews’ boyfriend.”

“Why wasn’t he ever charged?” Gena asked flatly, trying to process everything she’d been told. Fury made it impossible for her to soak everything. The knowledge that Ana and Angel might still be alive if Walker had been charged with Katrina Andrews’ murder, kept racing through her mind.

“He suddenly had an alibi. For months he looked like their number one suspect. He couldn’t verify where he was the night Katrina died and he had visible scratches from a fight he’d had with her.”

“What about the knife wound Stephanie inflicted on the killer? Was there evidence he had such a wound?” Gena asked sharply.

“They didn’t bother to check,” Delucci growled, frustration playing on his face. “Not one of them bothered to check hospitals to see if anyone had been admitted for a knife wound to the upper thigh.”

“Gena, the Detectives really screwed up on the case. There was never enough evidence to tie Leigh Walker down and whatever evidence they found was tainted. It was a real hatchet job. There’s indication they didn’t even believe Stephanie stabbed her attacker. They considered her irrational and hysterical,” Jase finished angrily.

Gena slammed her fist against a chair, infuriated by the way Stephanie had been treated. “Irrational?” she asked in disbelief. “She witnessed her best friend get butchered and tortured and almost became a victim of the same killer and they expected her to be rational? She was 18 years old and terrified. She did the best she could,” Gena snapped.

Glaring at them, she said between clenched teeth, “We criticize her and try to understand why she does the things she does, why she is so driven, but we can’t. No one can understand her unless they’ve gone through what
she
has gone through. She didn’t just witness her best friend get murdered, she watched her parents butchered in front of her and she walked away unscathed. Two times she walked away unscathed physically, but inside, inside it left her damaged,” she said, her voice dropping to barely a whisper. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, trying to regain her composure.

Opening her eyes again, she looked at Delucci. “Why wasn’t Walker charged?” she asked, adding under breath, “Apart from the major fuck-up by the L.A.P.D.”

Jase grinned at her in amusement. He could understand her frustration, feeling some of it himself. “An eye witness came forth. He gave a description of a man running out of the building the night Katrina Andrews was murdered. It didn’t match Walker.”

Delucci added brusquely, “That was enough for the Detectives to let Walker go.”

“They just let him go just like that?” Gena choked out. “They didn’t even bother to check out the eyewitness? Did they even provide us with a name?”

Delucci sighed heavily. “It was enough for them. They accepted the eyewitness’ testimony and closed off the case.” He paused, seeing the outrage on her face. “Gena, you’ve got to remember, things were done differently ten years ago. The L.A.P.D wasn’t quite the oiled machine it is now, and it was very much a boys club.”

“Do we even have the name of the eye witness so we can follow up his story?” Gena asked sarcastically. The more she heard, the more she sympathized with Stephanie. She couldn’t even begin to imagine the hell Stephanie had gone through dealing with the L.A.P.D.

“Not yet. We will, though. Detective William Foley was the leading Detective of the case. He’s now retired. I called him earlier and he remembers the case. He’s kept all his old notes, so I’m going to meet with him,” Jase said.

Gena sighed heavily. Resignation in her voice, she said, “We need to find that eyewitness. I want to know why the eyewitness took so long to come forward, and what he actually saw.”

“Ten years is a long time, Gena. The eyewitness may have moved State or Country. Hell, they may not even be alive anymore. The likelihood of his remembering…” Delucci said, pausing when he saw her stormy expression. Lifting his hands up, he said quietly, “I’m just saying.”

“Frank, I know all of this, but a ten year old memory is better than none at all. I want to know what he saw, what he can remember and why he took so damn long to come forward.” Dropping her eyes to the floor, she scuffed one of her sneakers against it, whispering, “I can’t fail her again, damn it. Not this time.”

***

Stephanie sat on the beach, her feet buried within the sand. Experimentally she moved her toes, feeling the dirt beneath her feet reassuringly. Watching the waves crashing back and forth, she locked her arms around her knees and stared moodily out into the water.

She had failed her friends in so many different ways. Not just Angel and Carolyn, but everyone around her. She had failed them all and she didn’t know where to go from here. She’d let Leigh into her life and ignored all the warning signs. She’d ignored them because she hadn’t wanted to be alone and now, because of her, her friends were dying. Just as with Katrina, she was failing them all again.

She fingered the folded piece of paper she held in her hand. On it was information which would give the police everything they needed to justifiably search Leigh’s apartment on Wilshire Boulevard. She smiled coldly. He had played her. She didn’t like being played, but he had done so perfectly.

Not once had he indicated he knew her, knew her history and knew all about Dominic. The bastard had delivered his lines perfectly, injecting the perfect amount of sincerity into his every word and action. Her smile turned icy, as she closed her eyes. She would have the last laugh. She would survive all of this and he would rot in hell where he belonged.

Opening her eyes, she unfolded the paper she held, glancing at the information in front of her. She had dates and times of Leigh’s arrival into L.A from Heathrow. The dates placed him arriving at L.A.X a week before Angel was murdered.

He had played her, but he’d also underestimated her. In marrying her, he had granted her access to his personal details. She’d managed to sweet talk a banker into giving her information on Leigh’s credit card charges

She’d dug even deeper, discovering he’d travelled back between London and L.A several times in the past few months. All of those trip he told her were for business were all to Los Angeles. Had he been stalking Angel? She allowed herself to contemplate this. Had she really made it that easy for him? She had allowed him into her home, into her bed. He had used her. She’d been a pawn in his twisted game. Taking a deep breath, she wiped away angry tears. She would be a pawn no more. A hand touched her shoulder and she looked up, smiling softly at the man standing beside her.