“Women like Sharon Farman get beaten to death by their bully asshole husbands every day of the week,” Vince said. “But they aren’t the women that drive men out of their homes to kill other women.”

“Janet Crane is,” Mendez said.

“She sure as hell could drive me to homicide,” Vince said. “What do you know about Peter Crane tonight that you didn’t know this afternoon?”

“I spoke to a cop in Ventura about Dr. Crane’s lady friend,” Hicks said. “She’s known for her special talents.”

“S and M?” Mendez guessed.

“Yep.”

“But I don’t think See-No-Evil would be paying for rough sex,” he said.

Vince arched a brow. “Why not?”

“Because it wouldn’t excite him anymore. Maybe playing pretend was fine for a while, but now he’s had a taste of the real thing. He doesn’t want fake fear when he can have the real deal. It’s not enough to pretend to strangle a woman now that he’s choked the life out of a couple.”

“Good theory. Very good,” Vince said, pleased with his protégé. “Let’s go back to something Crane said this afternoon when you were interviewing him.”

Mendez went to the TV/VCR and put in the tape of the Crane interview. Vince grabbed the remote and skipped through most of it.

Crane: “. . . a married man.”

Mendez: “He should have thought about that before he unzipped his pants.”

Crane: “I’m really not comfortable talking about this.”

Mendez: “You said Steve is a complicated guy. In what way? He’s your friend, man. Tell me about him.”

Crane: “I just meant that Steve is very driven. He’s passionate about the work he does for the center. Steve comes from a tough background—single mom, not much money, desperate times—”

“You need to know more about that,” Vince said, hitting the Pause button. “Desperate times and a single mom could add up to something.”

“His motivation for working for the rights of disadvantaged women,” Hamilton said.

“Or his unhealthy attraction to disadvantaged women,” Vince said. “For every good man drawn to the priesthood, there’s a pedophile two confessionals down. Dig into Morgan’s background—and Crane’s.”

Chapter 75

75

Typical for a beautiful autumn Saturday night, the plaza and the streets branching off it were full of people dining, socializing, listening to music. Anne let her mind wander as she walked to her car in one of the public lots. She allowed herself the girlish luxury of wondering about the man she was attracted to. Where was he? What was he doing? Was he thinking about her?

She chided herself for being foolish. The man she was attracted to was hunting a serial killer, not sitting around daydreaming about her.

But maybe later.

She thought back to the afternoon when they had had a few moments together alone.

“How are you feeling about last night?” he asked.