Free The Face of Fear: A Powers and Johnson Novel by R.J. Torbert Page B

mansion when they remembered Cronin hadn’t given them O’Connor’s number.
    “OK, tomorrow then,” Paul said.
    As he drove up to the mansion, his thoughts were struggling with Rachelle’s behavior and the amount of time that had gone by for the kidnapping. He was conflicted and didn’t know what to do about it.

Friday, June 17
    T wo Days Until Ransom
    Z Pita was very busy for a Friday business day, and it was insane for Rachelle. She loved staying busy and had the first smile of her day when Madison walked in with a hug. They sat and had coffee for 20 minutes and got caught up with girl talk. Madison was good at listening to Rachelle vent about everything, and she knew she was becoming overwhelmed with the job at the paper, Z Pita responsibilities, and the killing of Timothy.
    “Tell me,” she said to Rachelle, “what else?”
    Rachelle just blurted out, “I don’t want to be alone. I’m frightened of going through life and waking up one day and saying, ‘Why didn’t I take a chance at something’”
    Madison looked at her, held her hands, and said, “Something or someone?”
    Rachelle’s eyes began tearing up again. “This damn period,” she said. They both started laughing. It was quickly interrupted when Bobby came over to her to tell her that it looked like there was a water leak upstairs in Paul’s apartment.
    “Oh, shit,” Rachelle said. “I’ve got to check it out. Oh, wait! Madison, come with me. I need a witness I didn’t do anything other than check the problem.”
    Madison laughed and said, “OK, no worries.”
    They went upstairs, and Rachelle opened the door. The apartment was in good shape compared to other times she had been in there. Paul was a typical single male, not quite the slob she thought most guys were but still not to her liking, especially the pictures on the walls.
    “OK,” she said. “Bathroom time.”
    “That’s your job,” Madison said. “I’m your witness, but I draw the line going into a single guy’s bathroom. It totally grosses me out.” Rachelle checked the tub, and there was no problem. She wen back to the kitchen area and opened up the cabinet underneath the sink and found the pipes leaking. She called an emergency-service plumber and then called Paul’s cell phone, which went straight to voice mail.
    “Hi, Paul,” Rachelle said. “You have a plumbing problem with your pipes. I called for service. Call me when you can.” Click .
    When Paul finally did pick it up, he thought, OK, this is our relationship . They had known each other for three years and had become close in every way except physically. Yet this murder was going to put distance between them.
    Paul and Bud returned to the mansion, and when the butler Roger Simpson answered the door again, he had a smirk on his face. Paul showed his badge again and asked to see William Lance.
    The voice behind Simpson said, “Let them in.”
    Simpson looked disappointed but replied, “Yes, sir.”
    Paul walked past Simpson, ignoring him. However, Bud did not do the same. “Asswipe,” he said to Simpson as he walked by, then changed his whole facial expression as he greeted William Lance.
    “Can we go somewhere private?” Paul asked. They went to Mr. Lance’s private den, and Paul opened up a notebook. He rattled off question after question. Mr. Lance was very cooperative. Paul moved from questions about Debbie and started to dig into her relationship with Robert Simpson.
    Lance said, “There was nothing I could do about the relationship. Robert has been invaluable to me since he was hired on 12 years ago. Deborah was 14 years old at the time, and he was 25. She went from loving him at age 12 to being in love with him by the time she was 16. Both of them promised me nothing would get intimate until she moved out of the house at 18 for college. It seems like an age gap, and it was at the time, but now she’s 26 and he’s 37. He is irreplaceable to me and to Deborah.”
    “Mr. Lance,” Paul