“Did you think he was such a good guy when he was using you as a punching bag? How many stitches did it take to close the cut in your skull?”
Heavily lined eyes narrowed as she absently fingered the diamond bracelet that probably had been part of his apology tour. “You made him lose his temper. If you hadn’t come into our world, he never would have gotten so angry.”
“If he does by some miracle beat this on appeal, do you think he’ll be sorry when he finally loses it and beats you to death? You and I both know that’s a matter of time.”
Lana tipped her chin up. “You don’t know my Benny. He loves me.”
Julia wouldn’t waste her breath arguing with the girl. The case was out of her hands now and the responsibility of the attorneys. “Whatever you say.”
“You know, you’re a real bitch,” Lana said.
“Am I? Good. Better a bitch than a victim.”
Lana leaned in, her eyes now feral. “Cunt. Whore. The way you turned on us when we treated you like family.”
Elizabeth Monroe came up and placed a manicured hand on her shoulder. “Time to go, Lana.”
Lana shrugged off Monroe’s hand. “I have more to say to this bitch cop.”
“No, you don’t,” Monroe said. Sleek fingers banded around Lana’s wrist. “We leave now.”
Lana jerked free of Monroe’s grasp and moved to within inches of Julia. “Watch your back, bitch.”
As Sharp reached for Lana, Monroe jerked her away with such force that Lana stumbled to keep her balance in her platform shoes.
“Excuse us, Officers,” Monroe said.
Julia stood, silently watching the anger flash and burn across the young woman’s face. As tempting as it was to spar, she didn’t move. She wasn’t going to let a police harassment charge derail this case.
“This is not over,” Lana said.
“It is for now,” Monroe said.
After Monroe and Lana left, Julia rushed down the stairs and out the front door. She paused to breathe in fresh air.
Sharp stayed on her heels. “Isn’t it time you headed north? You have an appointment, correct?”
She checked her watch. Sharp’s work with Shield Security on a cold case had prompted her to ask him about the Quantico, Virginia, security firm’s new mission to help law enforcement officers dig into cold cases. He’d been one of the few she’d told about her meeting. “I have time.”
“Who are you meeting with?”
A sigh shuddered through her as she dumped the cigarette pack in her purse. “Garrett Andrews. He works for your buddy, Clay Bowman, at Shield Security. Andrews has agreed to help me with data searches.”
“I didn’t realize you’d reached out to them.”
She shrugged. “You know me. Never afraid to ask. I’ve been reading my father’s old files on the Hangman case. I want to take a crack at it.”
“Why?”
“It was a big case in its day. No one ever caught the killer, and I’d like to remedy that. And so that you hear it from me, my old man shot and killed himself during the investigation. Some think he was involved with the killings. Whatever the outcome, I want solid answers.”
“Tall order.”
Yes, it was, and she hoped she could back up her claims. “If there’s no challenge, what’s the fun?”
“Right.”
Julia smiled. “I heard Bowman respects you.”
“He’s a solid guy.”
“Any words of wisdom?”
“You’re a good cop. You know your case. Be yourself.”
She laughed. “Ah, so you mean overly direct and irritating?”
He smiled. “You said it.”
As she dug keys from her purse, she asked, “What if they don’t take the case? What if twenty-five years is too long a stretch for them? What if they buy into the rumors about my father and believe the case is closed?”
“They wouldn’t allocate their time today if they didn’t think new evidence could be found. It’s their job to find answers, whether you like what they find or not.”
“I don’t—can’t—believe my father did it.”
“Then you’ve nothing to fear.”
“Right. I’ll keep that in mind.”
“I know, easier said than done.”
“I’ve gone through all the files as well as my father’s case notes. But I’m concerned the Hangman did too good a job covering his tracks and whatever mistakes he did make are now lost in time.”
“What about your father’s police partner?”
“Ken Thompson? I’ve talked to him twice, but there’s a wrinkle there. He has Alzheimer’s. He still appears okay to most folks, but I can see he’s missed a step or two.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Yeah. He’s a good man. Hell of a way to end. He’s also my last tangible link to the Hangman case.” She patted her coat pockets for cigarettes, half hoping she’d find one, when she caught herself. Jesus, why was it so hard to stop? “Not that many people know what’s going on with Ken, so keep it under your hat.”
“Sure.”
“Ken kept in touch after Jim died. He never missed a birthday or Christmas. Mom wasn’t ever thrilled to see him, but he kept coming. Always had a gift for me. And when she died, he was a rock. I think he blames himself for Jim’s suicide.”
“Cops are good at second-guessing. It’s what enables us to do the job. The problem is those questions are hard to turn off.”
She understood self-blame, second-guessing, and replaying an event over and over. It didn’t take a shrink to link what had happened in Virginia Beach with the dreams of her father’s suicide that had been plaguing her for the last eight months.
The ripple effect of her father’s death had changed life for Julia and her mother. When Jim shot himself, Amy Vargas embodied every nightmare of a cop’s wife. The cops didn’t distance themselves from Amy and Julia intentionally, but they did it nonetheless. She’d learned at a young age that victims were ultimately rejected because no one wanted a living reminder of how bad it could get.
Catching the Hangman would win her a couple of get-out-of-victim-jail cards. Her father would be vindicated and maybe what Benny did to her, forgotten.
“You’re tough,” Sharp said.
That’s what everyone said about Jim Vargas. Ballbuster. Pit bull. Hell of a man. And he’d cracked under the pressure of the Hangman case. “Yeah, I’m tough.”
Sharp was silent for a moment before saying, “You’re right to pull in Shield.” He clicked his key fob, and the lights of a dark SUV flashed. “And if they refuse the case, talk to me. I might be able to lend a hand.”
The rush of gratitude was quick and sharp, sending her scrambling toward sarcasm. “That’s pretty damn touching, Sharp.”
He smiled. “What can I say? I’m one hell of a guy.”
Grinning, she slid behind the wheel of her SUV as Sharp got in his vehicle and drove off. She sat in the car, letting the heat from the sun warm the chill in her bones. Finally, she pulled on her sunglasses.