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Ahh, I hear the newspaper hit my front door. Wonderful. Will there be any news of the woman’s death? The anticipation is delicious. Today, or someday soon, I’ll have my answers: Who was she? What was her age? Her story? Everyone has a story.

I must go. The suspense is killing me.

But first, there is one more thing you should know about me. Above all else, I am an incessant liar. White lies, black lies, green lies. It doesn’t matter. I love death and deceit. In fact, the truth is, my parents are now dead. I killed them both five years ago. They left me no choice.

Until next time,

ZT

CHAPTER THREE

Lizzy pulled her car into a parking space and shut off the engine.

The corporate SRT building in Folsom was a giant block of steel and concrete dotted with windows. Stacey Whitmore, anchor with Channel 10 News, sat beside her in the passenger seat. All the way here, she’d been clicking one of her perfectly manicured fingernails on the console. “I don’t like this one bit,” she said, not for the first time.

Lizzy felt a muscle tighten beneath her cheekbone. Up until now she’d just let her whine, but the time had come for Stacey Whitmore to grow a spine. “If you can’t do this, then I’ll take you back to your house right now.” She reinserted the key in the ignition. “I’m sure Derek Murphy will be more than willing to help me out.”

“Put your keys away,” Stacey said. “The last thing I want is for you to call Derek Murphy every time you have a new story.” Stacey looked squarely at Lizzy. “If anyone finds out about this, though, I could lose my job.”

For the past few weeks, Lizzy’s focus had been on Wayne Bennett. He was rich and powerful, and he used that power to take advantage of young women. He was the worst kind of predator. People, young and old, thought they could trust him. He was a self-made millionaire. But like many highly successful leaders, he was seduced by money and power, and somewhere along the way he had lost his moral bearings.

“Wayne Bennett is scum,” Lizzy said. “You read the testimony from those three young women. And you know he won’t call your boss to complain or to find out what’s going on—the last thing he wants is the media coming around and asking him more questions.”

“The judge dropped the case against Bennett. Why would he do that if there was enough evidence to bring Bennett to court and let a jury decide?”

“I talked to Grady Orwell, the prosecutor on the case, and he said the judge dropped the case on a simple technicality during preconference. You know as well as I do that power and money buy a lot of privileges, including time.”

“You think the judge took a bribe?”

“I think that’s obvious.” There was a long pause before Lizzy added, “Somebody needs to get this guy off the street, and I have a feeling it’s going to have to be me.”

“There are hundreds, if not thousands, of rapists in Sacramento. Why him?”

“Because he has easy access to too many young people. The young women he purports to be helping put their trust in him because everything about him appears to be on the up-and-up. He’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing. By the time he strikes, these young women don’t know what hit them. The worst part is that he thinks he can get away with it.”

“He might be right.”

“Not if I can help it.” Lizzy anchored strands of hair behind her ear. “Listen. Think about all the young women you’ll be saving from his abuse if I can get the proof I need and get this guy behind bars where he belongs. Karma will pay you back in triplicate.”

“What sort of proof do you really think we’ll get out of him today?”

“I want you to ask him about Miriam Walters. Ask him what he knows about her disappearance.”

Silence.

“So, what’s it going to be?” Lizzy asked. “Are you in?”

“I’m in. But you owe me.”

Lizzy took a look outside. It was mid-April. The air coming through the vents was cool. White clouds billowed against a backdrop of gray sky.

“There he is,” Stacey said, pointing. “That’s his car pulling into the lot.”

“Where? Which one?”

“The cream-colored Mercedes.”

“Let’s go.”

Before Stacey could answer, Lizzy got out of the car, opened the trunk, and began to gather the video equipment she’d asked Stacey to bring. The Channel 10 News logo would make it all look official.

Stacey climbed out of the car and came around to the back. She took the microphone Lizzy handed her. She looked professional in her matching two-piece suit. Her hair and makeup were flawless.

“Ready?” Lizzy asked her.

“Three questions and then we go.”

“That’s right.” Lizzy slid on a pair of black-rimmed eyeglasses that were nothing more than clear glass. Usually her hair was tied back in a ponytail, but today she’d taken the time to curl it. The last thing she wanted was for Wayne Bennett to recognize her as a private investigator from one of the many cases she’d worked on. If everything went as planned, he would think she was a camerawoman, and he wouldn’t pay her any mind.

Lizzy was halfway across the parking lot when she spotted him as he neared the entrance to the building. “Hurry up,” she told Stacey. “We’re going to lose him.”

Wayne Bennett was six feet tall, probably 170 pounds. His dark hair was thick and speckled with silver. His suit was well tailored. His shoes newly shined. Every step, every movement was sharp, rhythmic. He never looked their way.

“Mr. Bennett,” Stacey called out, her heels clacking against the pavement. “Congratulations on your CEO of the Year Award.”

He stopped. Turned. Smiled into Lizzy’s camera.

Stacey was brilliant. She knew exactly what would get his attention.

“Hi. Stacey Whitmore with Channel 10 News.

He nodded. “What can I do for you?”

“You have gotten a lot of bad press lately despite all the great work you do with the underprivileged kids. I thought it was only fair that someone point out the good you’ve done for our community.”

He straightened his tie, stood a little taller.

“The Sacramento area is home to a vast array of top-notch companies, and it’s the CEOs who get the job done,” she went on. “How does it feel to be included on the roster of those to be rewarded?”

“I am honored to have been selected and to be in such good company.”

“Could you tell us about your organization outside of SRT, and about some of the work you do to help so many young men and women in Sacramento?”

He fairly beamed. “I’d be happy to. Five years ago, I started Opportunity Knocks, a nonprofit company that receives sponsorships and donations from many of the area’s businesses. SRT is the biggest contributor. My team works closely with underprivileged kids who are right out of high school. We give them a crash course in technology and then teach them necessary social skills. Basically, we build a bridge between those less fortunate and the companies that end up employing them because they have been through our program. We have a very high employment rate.”

“I understand you work especially closely with young disadvantaged women who might not otherwise have the chance to intern with large companies like SRT.”

“That’s right,” he said. “Well, young men and young women. Every young person in our program has gone through a rigorous selection process that ensures that every participant is well motivated and eager to learn. Their only disadvantage is the environment they were born into. In six months’ time, they are ready to go out into the world and interview for jobs they would have otherwise had no business seeking. Over fifty percent of these gifted men and women are given internships and then go on to accept well-paying jobs.”