Twisted by Laura Griffin Page B

dead.”
    Allison stared down at the report.
    “Come on, Allison.”
    “Okay, you’re right, it looks like Bender. The guy’s a dirtbag. He beats women. But the thing is, he didn’t kill her.”
    Unless he killed the other ones, too.
    The thought startled her. She pulled the file toward her and studied the interview notes. Bender’s date of birth was listed at the top, beneath his name.
    “Twenty-eight years old,” Allison muttered. That didn’t fit Mark’s profile. And he would have been seventeen when the first victim was killed in California. But still . . .
    “Where’d he go to high school?” Allison asked.
    “North Side High. Starting quarterback.” Jonah leaned back in his chair again and crossed his arms. “Took his team to state his senior year, as a matter of fact.”
    “That explains his ego. And probably his penchant for knocking people around.”
    “Not every athlete’s a wife beater, Allison.”
    “I know that, I’m just—”
    “I get it. You’re trying to build a profile.” He gave her a hard look, and she knew he was thinking about her sudden friendship with Mark.
    She looked away. Mark was right. These cases were connected. If there was anything Allison had taken fromher interview with Jordan Wheatley, it was that the man who attacked her had a ruthless MO. He was skilled, smart, and shockingly cold in his execution. Mark believed he’d killed five women in California, at least two in Texas, and that he would go right on doing it unless someone tracked him down and put a stop to it. Allison believed it, too. And her law enforcement agency was in a position to do something. They had the freshest case, the warmest trail.
    And yet they were completely off track.
    “Why won’t he provide a solid alibi?” Allison looked at Jonah.
    “How the hell do I know? Maybe his lawyer told him to keep his mouth shut.”
    “But even during the initial interview. He claims he went home and watched TV, and you say he was lying.”
    “I know he was—I just can’t prove it.”
    “I bet I can.” She felt the adrenaline rush as her idea took shape.
    “You want to provide our prime suspect with an alibi.” Jonah smiled ruefully and shook his head.
    “I want to eliminate him. It’s the only way to convince Reynolds. Now, listen.” She leaned forward. “Why would he lie about where he was? I mean, why , for Christ’s sake? This is a death penalty state.”
    She saw him understand where she was going with this.
    “Because the truth would make him look guilty,” Jonah said.
    “That’s right. And what do we know about Bender? What do we have on record? That he’s abusive. That he’s violent. That he’s followed the victim out on dates andharassed her. He probably was stalking her the night she got killed, Jonah. Even if he wasn’t the one who killed her.”
    Jonah pursed his lips, considering the idea.
    “Where’s Stephanie’s apartment?” she asked.
    “ ’Bout three blocks off campus. It’s that new complex over by the movie theater.”
    Allison pictured the redbrick building with the pool and the landscaping. She’d bet her next paycheck it had security cameras.
    She stood up and went to get her jacket. “Come on, let’s go.”
    “Where are we going?”
    “To see where Bender was the night Stephanie disappeared.”
    Mark entered Randy’s Pool Hall and saw the typical array of football fans and bored husbands he’d expected on a Sunday night. What he hadn’t expected was Allison. She was seated at the bar with a drink in front of her, deep in conversation with the bartender.
    So much for his plan. He’d come in to ask a few subtle questions of the wait staff. Now he ditched the idea and approached Allison. Once again, she was in jeans and a tight-fitting shirt, her dark hair loose around her shoulders. She glanced up.
    “Hey.” She looked pleasantly surprised to see him. “What are you doing here?”
    “Looking for a drink.” He ordered a beer and nodded at her almost