view. He made straight for the door in the middle of the first-floor hallway. She followed him down a steep set of stairs, and together they opened every door they came across. There was still no sign of Katie or Raisin. Isla approached the last door and tried to pull it open but discovered it was locked.
“Help me with this one, Karl.”
He ran over and tried to pull the door open, but it didn’t budge.
“Shoot out the lock,” she ordered.
“Jesus, Isla, I could lose my job for this.”
“You’ll lose more than your job if my kids are inside this room.”
“Stand back.” He took out his revolver, aimed it at the lock, and fired two shots, until it shredded.
Isla pushed the door open and flicked on the lights. On a table sat a keyboard and a huge computer screen. Gil’s camera sat on a side table. On the other side of the room, she saw a twin bed. Maybe that was where Gil slept after he edited his film footage on the desktop computer. Felicia did say they were having marital problems.
Karl turned on the computer, and an image appeared and remained frozen on-screen. She recognized it as Willow. He pressed PLAY, and Willow came to life. She sat on a chair, gnawing seductively on her lustrous blond hair. Behind her the ocean sparkled through the floor-to-ceiling window. She wore a short denim skirt, and one of her tanned legs lay crossed over the other, bouncing nervously up and down. From behind the camera, Gil asked her a series of innocuous questions. Isla felt her stomach churning as she watched.
“What kind of music do you like, Willow?” Gil asked.
“All kinds, but mostly rap. I love Drake and Rihanna,” Willow replied, strands of hair dangling from her rouged lips. “Depends on what kind of mood I’m in.”
“What’s your favorite mood for listening to music?”
“When I’m with someone I like.”
“Have you found anyone yet?”
“Maybe.” She giggled, and Isla realized she was high.
“How about singing? You have a beautiful voice.”
“Thank you,” she said a bit too sweetly.
“Could you sing something for me?”
“What do you want me to sing?”
“I’m sure whatever you choose will be good. Maybe you could show us some of your dance moves while you’re at it.”
“For real?”
“I think people would love to see your talent on display.”
“Didn’t they see it when I played Sandy Olsson onstage?”
“Sure, but that was a musical. I think people would like to hear you sing something a bit more contemporary.”
“Why?”
“To hear your amazing vocal range.”
“Oh, okay.” She seemed to think about it. “How about if I sing ‘I Will Always Love You,’ by Whitney Houston?”
“Perfect. I love that song.”
Willow stood and sang an amazing rendition, hitting all the right notes. When she was done, she sat back down on the chair and crossed her bare legs, refusing to look into the lens.
“What’s the matter?” Gil asked.
“It’s just hard to sing without an audience.”
“Think of the camera as your audience.”
“You know what I mean. I like performing in front of people and then hearing them applaud me afterward.”
Gil clapped his hands together. “You were very good.”
She glanced up and smiled briefly into the camera before looking back down again.
“You’re so beautiful, Willow.”
She swiped her hair over her studded ear.
“Would you put your hair up for me?”
She reached back and held her hair up in a bun.
“Perfect. Now dance a little for the camera. Close your eyes and let your body move on its own.” Soft music started to play.
“How’s this?” Willow asked.
“Great. You’re doing wonderful.”
“I love dancing for the camera.”
“You want to be a star really bad, don’t you?”
“More than anything in the world.”
“Would you like to slip into something more comfortable?”
“What would you like me to wear?”
“You know what I like.”
Isla turned away from the screen. “Shut it off, Karl. I can’t watch any more of this filth.”
He shut off the computer, and the screen went dead.
She felt sick to her stomach after watching this disgusting video. She looked over at Karl and saw him staring down at his shoes, as if he couldn’t bear to be in her presence after what they both had witnessed.
“The sick bastard has been abusing his daughter.” Bile formed in her throat.
“Maybe it wasn’t Willow who killed those kids, after all.”
“Gil got jealous when she started dating those boys.”
“I can understand Dakota James, but how did he kill the kid out in LA? He had to get inside the house and administer a fatal dose.”