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ignored her, gave her a glance that said, not here, not now.
    “Save who?” Carina asked, skeptical, still pushing for answers. “Who’s he talking about? The daughter?”
    “Robin McKenna.” Will cleared his voice. “Anna Clark’s roommate who testified against him. Or he could mean Julia Chandler or the old woman who saw him leaving Brandi Bell’s house.” But Will was just saying that. Glenn was talking about Robin, no doubt in his mind.
    “You talked to them today, right?”
    “I talked to Robin and Julia,” Will said. “I sent patrols to talk to the other witnesses who Diaz couldn’t reach on the phone.” And he’d just spoken to Sherry this morning. She of course had heard about the prison break. She’d been scared.
    “Connor is going to flip.”
    “Lieutenant, would you mind if I asked our criminalists to work with yours?”
    “No problem. We contract with the Sheriff’s Department for most crime scene work. Our lab is bare bones.”
    “Thanks. I’ll have them send a team immediately.”
    Will would never forget when Sherry Jeffries told him and Julia the story about her cat while they prepared her for testimony.
    “No one believed me. Theodore was a perfect kid. A straight-A student. Never raised his voice. Kind and polite. But with me he was different. Jekyll and Hyde. And he broke my kitty’s neck, looking at me the whole time. Watching my face, my reaction, my pain.
    “I buried Muffin. I cried and buried him. Theodore dug him up that night and put the body in my bed. I woke up in the morning with my dead cat at my feet.”
    Sherry hadn’t been a good witness. She’d fallen apart on the stand and she had no firsthand information about the murders. With her history of juvenile delinquency and drug use, it didn’t matter that she’d been clean for more than a decade before the trial. When on the stand, the judge sustained every one of Glenn’s objections. Nothing Sherry said was on the record. Only during the penalty phase did her testimony help.
    Now she was dead.
    “How did he get her address?” Carina asked the same question Will had been thinking. “I thought she’d moved since the trial.”
    Will’s stomach dropped as the only plausible answer sunk in. “Call a patrol immediately and send them over to Carl and Dorothy Glenn’s house.”
     
    The elder Glenns were alive and hadn’t seen their son. Will believed them.
    But Will’s instincts told him that the only way Glenn could have found out where Sherry lived so quickly was through their parents. He called Jim Gage, head of their crime lab, who’d just arrived at the Jeffries homicide. While the Glenns hadn’t seen their son, he could easily have walked inside, even with the unmarked unit watching the front of the house.
    The Glenns were distraught over the death of their daughter, yet didn’t believe their son had killed her. Will didn’t push it, not wanting to add to their anguish. They’d never believed their son capable of the heinous crimes of which he’d been convicted.
    Carina came back from her inspection of the house and motioned for him to follow her out. “There’s a key under the mat at the back door. Want to bet the Glenns have always had a key under their back mat?” Carina had also found an address book on the top of the Glenns’ neat desk. She had bagged it. “Sherry’s current address and phone number are in here.”
    Will confirmed the information with the Glenns. They’d lived in the same house for forty-two years, since they married. For all those years, they had a key under the mat.
    “We’ve never been robbed,” Mrs. Glenn stated emphatically.
    Only robbed of your daughter.
    Will gave his condolences and received permission to take the key and address book. He went back to the Jeffries crime scene and handed the evidence off to Jim Gage, who was talking with the El Cajon technician.
    “You’ll find Theodore Glenn’s prints on these,” Will said.
    “He’d probably wear gloves,”