Killing Fear by Allison Brennan

Author:Allison Brennan [Brennan, Allison]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fiction, Suspense
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2008-06-10T04:00:00+00:00

Dora Halverson was a fifty-nine-year-old grandmother of seven whose primary hobby was collecting signatures from famous people—actors, politicians, killers.

“That was a waste of time,” Will mumbled as they drove back to San Diego. “Swing back by Sara Lorenz’s house. Maybe she’s home.”

Traffic was miserable, and it was after six when they pulled up in front of the Lorenz house. A ten-year-old Toyota was parked in the driveway. “All right,” said Carina. “Let’s put this wild-goose chase to rest and get back to real police work.”

“You’re in a foul mood,” Will said. “Besides, Lorenz drives a Civic.”

“I’ve been a cop for twelve years, a homicide detective for the last two, and never before have I confronted so many women with such a sick fascination with homicidal maniacs.”

“Grandma Halverson sure seemed pleased with her collection,” Will said, ribbing Carina. “Manson, Bundy, Schwarzenegger—”

“You’re not helping.”

They walked up the pathway and Will knocked on the door, then stepped back. The dog barked. It was a little dog, one that his former partner Frank used to call a dust mop.

The woman who opened the door was forty, trim, and wearing a business suit, minus shoes. She bent down to pick up the little yapper—a black-and-white long-haired something.

“Can I help you?”

Will identified himself and Carina. “Are you Sara Lorenz?”

She shook her head. “Stephanie Barr. Sara owns the house.”

“Is she here?”

“No.”

“You’re a friend?”

“No. Not really. I’m her tenant.”

“How long have you been renting from Ms. Lorenz?”

“A little over a year.”

“Do you have a way to contact her?”

Ms. Barr frowned, looked from Carina to Will. “What’s this about?”

“I’m sorry, I can’t tell you that, but she’s not in any trouble. We just want to talk to her about someone she used to know.”

The tenant looked skeptical. “Just a minute,” she said and closed the door.

“Not very cooperative,” Carina said. “Why don’t the records have this house listed as a rental? If Sara Lorenz was living elsewhere, there should be another house with her name on it.”

“Unless she’s renting.”

“Why would she rent when she owns a house?”

“Maybe she moved out of the area,” Will suggested. “The Feds only pulled local records, and there’s no statewide database of property records.”

The door opened and Ms. Barr pushed open the screen far enough to slide over a card. “This is the address I send rent checks to, and the number she gave me for emergencies.”

The address was a P.O. box in downtown San Diego, the phone number a 619 area code. Also San Diego. Will recognized the prefix as a cellular carrier.

“Thank you, Ms. Barr,” Carina said.

“Do you know what she does for a living?” Will asked.

Ms. Barr shook her head. “I never asked. Sorry.”

“How did you learn about the rental in the first place?”

“An ad in the Tribune, nearly a year ago.”

“Thank you for your time.”

In the car, Will said, “So Sara Lorenz wrote to Theodore Glenn using an address of a house she no longer lived in. Why?”

“I hope Diaz and White had better luck with their three,” Carina mumbled.

Will dialed Sara Lorenz’s phone number from the car while Carina drove back to the station.

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