Free Stalked by Allison Brennan Page A

was in Sacramento; Lucy was at Quantico. I wouldn’t say it was impossible that one or both of them could have come here, killed her, and covered their tracks, but that’s a lot of travel, hacking, falsifying documents, and convincing more than one person to lie.”
    Tony laughed. “Good to know they’re cleared.”
    â€œI made you copies of all Weber’s files on the Cinderella Strangler case—who she talked to, who she met with, her ideas—but the research for her previous books is stored at Columbia University. Their manuscript preservation program, something like that. Detective DeLucca is tracking down the research assistant now.”
    â€œGood. I’ll take everything back with me to Quantico—if that’s all right with you.”
    â€œLess paperwork for me? You can have it.”
    â€œI went to the scene last night when I arrived, and concur with the detective’s report. Staged to look like a robbery. Do you have her phone records?”
    â€œJust calls—we’re getting a warrant for her text messages; it’s going to take a day or two. We also have e-mails. Nothing that indicates who she was meeting at Citi Field or why. Except”—Suzanne flipped through papers—“this note on her desk.”
    She gave him a copy of a sticky note that had a time written down.
    â€œâ€˜Nine thirty—RB.’”
    â€œI don’t think it’s a coincidence. It was the last thing she wrote on that pad of paper, but she didn’t take it with her. Maybe wrote it down when she was on the phone with someone, or got an e-mail, or as a reminder to herself. But she was killed close to nine thirty on Tuesday night.”
    â€œâ€˜RB’—initials?”
    â€œProbably. We’re running the initials through her address book, e-mails, phone lists. We have eight possible IDs so far, but half of those are outside of the greater New York area. NYPD is interviewing the others.”
    â€œCan I see the list?”
    Suzanne pulled it up on her cell phone. “DeLucca e-mailed it to me this morning.”
    Tony looked. “Just names?”
    â€œFor now.”
    â€œIf she was meeting with someone, at night, even at a place she felt safe, it would be someone she’d worked with before or met before. Probably someone with information she wanted on the Cinderella Strangler.”
    Suzanne nodded. “That was our thought. You said you knew her?”
    â€œI was lead agent on the Rachel McMahon kidnapping in Newark. Weber was a reporter. We didn’t get along, but I didn’t have to deal with her directly—that’s why we have a media information officer.”
    â€œDon’t I know it,” Suzanne mumbled. She would never live down the one time she spoke to the press and earned her “Mad Dog” moniker. And, by Tony’s expression, he knew all about it.
    He said, “She was tenacious and liked scandal, always went for the most salacious details of any investigation she covered, but I never knew her to fabricate her stories, or lie about key facts.”
    â€œDid you read the book she wrote about your case?”
    â€œNo. It came out five years after Rachel McMahon was murdered, and I didn’t want to relive that tragedy. Public Relations reviewed it and said there were no factual errors.”
    â€œYou looked at the reports, you knew the victim, are you thinking any differently than DeLucca and me?”
    Tony took a moment to ponder, and Suzanne both appreciated his concentration and worried that she had missed something.
    â€œThe killer wanted the police to think robbery, but because we know that Weber had a meeting scheduled with ‘RB’ I think it’s clear it wasn’t a random robbery. But I don’t think this ‘RB’ knew anything about it. It was a trap.”
    â€œThere were no defensive wounds on the victim. Nothing to indicate a struggle or that she