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Hannah’s room. She stillneeded to talk to her sister but that could wait. She’d been in the dark abouther behavior for weeks, if not months. A few more hours wouldn’t make adifference. There was a more pressing concern.

As she pulled out of the garage, she called Peters and got hisvoicemail too. He must have been in the middle of interrogating ArianaAldridge.

“I’m headed to Richard Ferro’s house just north of Westwood,” she said.“I have a few questions for the guy. I’m not certain he’s really gay, which makesme unsure about a lot of other things he said. I’m sending you the address.Meet me there.”

She turned her attention to the road. Suddenly she didn’t feel so tiredanymore.

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

They were having such a good time that Trembley could almost ignore hissunburn.

On paper, the assignment sounded awful. He and Detective Hernandez had spentall afternoon and now the early evening checking dead end after dead end. Andyet, he was enjoying every second of it.

When Decker had told him this morning that he had to cut his vacationshort by a day to help out on a case, he’d initially been disappointed. Hisplan had been to chill out with some football and pizza while reapplying lotionto his scalded skin. But that all changed once he found out who he’d be workingwith.

Not only was Detective Ryan Hernandez the head of HSS and a livinglegend, but Alan Trembley was also proud to call him a friend. They’d worked onmany cases together, and even though he knew Ryan still thought of him as arookie detective, he seemed to enjoy his company.

The last six months had been far less pleasant for Trembley without Ryanaround. With him rehabbing and Jessie only coming in to consult on theoccasional high-profile case, the unit was left desperately shorthanded.Captain Decker, never a barrel of laughs, was even more surly than usual.

So it was a genuine pleasure to be driving the streets of L.A. with thedetective he admired most in the department. Even if they didn’t really seem tobe getting anywhere on the case, it was a chance to reminisce. Using hislicense plate tracking method, Jamil had found fourteen locations that thesuspected Night Hunter had frequented on more than ten occasions in the lastmonth. Most of them were busts.

They included several grocery stores and gas stations, as well as twomalls. A few stops were more promising, including a hardware store and amedical supply store, both of which had items that might have been useful inthe man’s sick torture and murder rituals. Jamil was working with thebusinesses to get their security footage in the hope of finding somethinguseful.

The rest of the locations were hostels where they assumed the NightHunter had been staying. Unfortunately, they were spread out all over town. Theman never seemed to spend more than a couple of consecutive nights at any ofthem. They were just pulling up to the last one on the list as the final raysof the setting sun faded behind the horizon. They were in sight of the oceanand the orange and purple streaks on the water gave everything a soft glow.

“So when do you think we’ll get the band back together?” he asked, ashe settled into an open parking spot on 2nd Street in Santa Monica,one block west of the 3rd Street Promenade and directly across fromthe hostel.

“What do you mean?” Ryan asked.

“I mean you, me, and Jessie. When we were talking earlier about thatAndrea Robinson case we all worked together, it reminded me how great it wasbeing partnered with both of you.”

Ryan smiled at him.

“When I’m able to return to field work, I’d love to have a reunion,Trembley. I’m sure Jessie would too. But maybe don’t bring up the name AndreaRobinson with her. Remember, the woman did lace her mojito with peanut oil,hoping to induce a fatal allergic reaction. And it almost worked.”

Trembley felt a little embarrassed.

“I guess I figured that so many people have tried to kill her that shewas numb to their names being mentioned.”

“Some of them, yes,” Ryan told him. “But not the ones who are stillalive, institutionalized, and obsessed with her. She’s not numb to them.”

“How many of those are there?” Trembley asked.

“Just one, at least that I know of.”

“Noted,” Trembley assured him, changing topics. “So I guess we shouldfocus on the killer du jour.”

“That’s probably a good call,” Ryan agreed.

“Okay, I’ll go check it out but I’m not optimistic about this one.”

“Why is that?” Ryan asked.

“For one thing, we’re nowhere near where either of the murders tookplace. It’d take him an hour to get from here to there in normal traffic.”

“This guy doesn’t strike me as the type to let a little delay botherhim,” Ryan countered. “He’s gone decades without a high-profile kill. I don’tthink a little traffic is going to bother him.”

“Fair point,” Trembley said, disinclined to argue too much with someoneas experienced as Ryan Hernandez.

But apparently Ryan sensed that he had more to say and insisted he doso.

“Go on. You said ‘for one thing.’ So there has to be another thing.”

Trembley considered saying nothing but knew that would only annoy Ryan.

“It’s just that this hostel, near the Promenade and the beach—it feelsmore youth-centric. You’d think he’d want to steer clear of places where hemight stick out so much.”

Ryan nodded.

“You’re probably right,” he said. “It makes a lot more sense for him tospend his nights closer to the kill sites, where the hostels cater to an oldercrowd. I’ll have Jamil change the filters of the search to be less restrictive;have him include locations he visited as few as a half dozen times or more.That might reveal a pattern we can’t see yet.”

Flattered that Ryan thought his point was a good one, Trembley stifledthe smile he could feel creeping to the edges of his mouth.

“Well, as long as I’m here, I may as well check it out, right?” hesaid. “Maybe I’ll bump into some Scandinavian college student visiting the U.S.before embarking on her modeling career.”

“Please don’t do anything that will get the department sued, Trembley,”Ryan replied, though he was fighting off a smile himself.

“I’ll

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