“She probably never made it out of the dentist’s office. Janet Crane probably killed her and ate her,” Mendez said. “That’s the meanest woman alive. I don’t get why he would be married to her. He’s a successful, educated, good-looking guy. Why would he hook up with a ballbuster like that one?”

“Maybe he sees another side of her,” Vince offered. “Or maybe he’s a masochist. Can you picture her wearing leather and spike-heeled boots?”

“If I want to have nightmares.”

“Don’t add another killer to the mix,” Dixon said. “We’ve got enough trouble. If you can’t find anyone at Quinn, Morgan who saw Karly Vickers after her appointment, find out where Peter Crane was.”

“Home with the family,” Mendez said. “That’s his alibi. We’re not going to break that unless someone saw him somewhere else.”

“I’m meeting his wife this afternoon. I’ll see what I can find out,” Vince said, drawing a stunned look from Mendez. “I’m curious. What can I say? And she’s the agent representing the vacant building next to her husband’s office. A great place for a newcomer to start a business—or for a kidnapper to stash a victim while he establishes an alibi. I’ll scout it out for you.”

“I’ve made a call to the Oxnard PD,” Mendez said. “That was where Julie Paulson had her last two arrests for prostitution. They’ll get back to me if they can connect her to any johns who might have gotten caught up in a sweep with her.”

“Steve Morgan spends a lot of time in Sacramento,” Dixon said, grim-faced. “I can reach out to a friend in the PD, see if they’ve had anything going on up there. I hope to God not.”

“If we’re dotting i’s and crossing t’s,” Mendez said, “Someone has to account for Frank’s whereabouts last Thursday night. Otherwise it’ll look like we gave him a pass.”

“Talk to his wife,” Dixon said, checking his watch. “I told him we have to do this by the book, and no one is more by the book than Frank. He’ll deal with it.”

Famous last words, Mendez would think later. For the moment it was just one more thing on the endless checklist of a murder investigation.

Chapter 41

41

Vince popped a couple of pills and washed them down with a locally bottled orange cream soda. Nice town, he thought again, as he walked down the pedestrian plaza. Nice place to settle—except for the serial killer.

He tossed the soda bottle in a trash can camouflaged with decorative wrought iron, and checked himself in the window of a parked car. In a smart dove gray suit with an orange Italian silk tie, he looked pretty damn good for a guy who had been raised from the dead.