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But it got worse. Much worse.

Martin Orth had given them more news.

After reexamining Lily’s jeans, a small amount of semen was found inside the clothing just below the zipper that had been missed during the original investigation. DNA analysis revealed that the semen belonged to Jacob Gant and proved that he had been telling the truth all along. He’d had sex with Lily early in the evening. When they’d finished, Lily got back into her jeans and they went downstairs to the kitchen.

The polygraph had proven a lack of deception on Gant’s part and should have been enough to end it. But finding his semen inside Lily’s jeans proved that her rape and murder had been an entirely separate event. Had the semen been found the first time around, it would have prevented every domino since the night Lily was murdered from falling down. Lives would have been spared.

There was no gray to it. No question marks. No blank spaces. Everything was in black and white now.

A sixteen-year-old girl was dead-a teenager growing up too fast with a voracious appetite for sex. Johnny Bosco wanted to help. Johnny Bosco wanted to-

She leafed through her notes looking for the Death Investigation Report. Dante Escabar’s contact information would be listed in the second box down because he’d reported the murders, discovered the bodies, and identified Johnny Bosco’s corpse. She found his cell number and punched it into her phone. Escabar picked up on the first ring, his voice no longer littered with sarcasm.

“I know why Johnny wanted to help Jacob Gant,” he said.

“I think I do, too,” she said quickly. “You might not be safe.”

He laughed at her. She remembered the gun he kept.

Lena cleared her throat. “When was Lily at the club?”

“The cameras picked her up twice,” he said. “Both were Friday nights. One and two weeks before her death. She’s sitting at the bar.”

Lena was thinking about the man Gant had said he’d seen struggling with Lily on the Friday night one week before the murder. Paladino had told her that Gant couldn’t be sure of anything because it was too dark and too far away to see clearly. When he’d gone over to the house to check on Lily, the car was gone and no one answered the door.

“Was she with anybody, Dante?”

“She came with a girlfriend the first time,” he said. “They didn’t stay very long. But one week before the murder she came alone. She was talking to a guy. Touchy-feely stuff. They left together.”

“Can you see his face?”

“He’s standing beside her, not sitting. His face didn’t make the shot. I’m burning you a copy right now.”

“Keep the doors locked,” she said. “I’m on my way over.”

He laughed again. “They’re always locked, Detective Gamble. See you when you get here.”

40

Something about the way Escabar laughed hit her in the gut. The tone. The edge. The grim feeling followed her as she hurried across the street into the garage. She found Vaughan’s cell number on her recent call list, and felt some degree of relief when he picked up.

“Where are you?” she asked.

“Downstairs,” he said. “They’re delivering my ex-wife’s car.”

She gave him a three-sentence update that ended with the words, “Lily Hight left Club 3 AM with a guy.”

“I’ve got wheels,” he said. “I’ll meet you there. I’ll only be five minutes behind you.”

She blew through a red light-that grim feeling sitting beside her in the passenger seat. Once she’d pulled onto the 101 Freeway, she slid into the far left lane and decided to call for backup. The Hollywood Station was just a few blocks south of the club. The dispatch operator took the information down, then repeated it to her.

Probably nothing, but would you please send a first response unit to the club.

Probably nothing, but would you hurry.

It took Lena twenty-five minutes of hard driving to reach Hollywood. As she approached Club 3 AM, she didn’t see the guard in his booth and the gate was open. She turned into the drive and pulled around to the back of the building. And then her heart sank. The Toyota pickup was here, and so was Escabar’s Ferrari, but no one else. She could hear sirens in the distance, but it sounded like they were moving in the opposite direction.

She gave the building a hard look, then hurried up the steps to the main entrance-that grim feeling still as close as a shadow. She tried the front door, wrapped her hand around the handle, and gave it a slow pull hoping that the place was locked up.

But when the door opened, she took the shock and knew.…

She stepped inside the foyer-everything dark and quiet. Digging into her pocket for her phone, she found Escabar’s cell number and pressed CALL. Two or three seconds later, she heard his phone begin ringing from somewhere upstairs. She could hear the haunting sound travel through the dark building. She could hear the eerie silence when his voice mail cut in and the ringing finally stopped.

She tried to compose herself.

Her eyes had adjusted to the darkness and she could see a body on the floor. It wasn’t very far away. She noticed a light switch on the wall and flipped it on. The switch only handled a row of dim floor lights leading to the staircase, but provided enough illumination for Lena to pick up detail.

She moved toward the body slowly and knelt down. A green trash bag had been pulled over the man’s head and tied around his neck. From the shoes and slacks he wore, Lena knew that she was looking at the security guard. She started to check his pulse, her response on automatic, but looked at his face pressing through the plastic bag and stopped.

Few people die pretty.…

She turned away, trying to catch her breath. She heard something behind her-the door opening, the foyer flooding with light. It was Vaughan, and he looked frightened and nervous. As he moved in beside her, he couldn’t seem to stop staring at the dead body.

“I called for backup,” she said quietly.

“There’s a bank robbery on Sunset,” he whispered. “I heard it on the radio.”

Lena spotted the pistol on the guard’s belt. “We can’t wait,” she said. “Do you know how to use a gun?”

Vaughan shook his head and seemed jittery. “I’m a lawyer,” he said.

Lena pursed her lips. They were in a tough spot, yet she couldn’t help acknowledging to herself that there was something about Vaughan that got to her. Something she liked a lot. She shook it off, grabbing the guard’s pistol and lifting it out of the holster. Even in the dim light, the Beretta.40 glistened as if brand new. The hammer was half-cocked with the safety engaged. Readying the weapon, she passed it over and met Vaughan’s eyes.

“Whoever did this is probably long gone,” she whispered. “Can you handle this?”

He nodded at her with determination. “I’m ready.”

Lena drew her weapon, then pulled out her cell and hit the REDIAL key on the touch screen.

Vaughan shot her a wild look. “What are you doing?”

“Calling a dead man,” she said.

After several moments, Escabar’s cell phone started ringing again and Vaughan understood. They moved quickly through the darkness, rushing up the stairs and following that ghostly sound down the hall until it stopped. Lena pressed the REDIAL key again and they continued pushing toward the sound. When they reached the corner, she realized that Escabar’s phone was ringing from Bosco’s office and broke into a run.

She found him on the floor beside the desk-one round through his forehead, and two more through the center of his chest. His mouth was open, his teeth jutting out. But even more striking, she could see what looked like fear permanently frozen on his face. His gun was on the floor beside his right hand. She turned to check the wall and spotted a bullet hole in the plaster by the door. Escabar had managed to get a shot off, but aimed too high and missed.

“Something’s happening with the computer,” Vaughan said.