and her own parents prefer to take his word over Zoe’s?
But he’d shown his true face to someone, an accomplice. What made him do it? And how had that worked?
The sun had emerged between the clouds, instantly painting the sky in a bright orange, the light giving the waves in the lake a shimmer. Zoe took out her phone, took a wobbly picture. She made a mental note to send it to Andrea.
She ran past Ohio Street Beach. Her eyes glanced at the smooth sand, where three months before, Krista Barker had been found dead, her body embalmed. She and Tatum had arrived at the crime scene bickering and arguing and hating each other’s guts. It was a lifetime ago.
Turning around, she started making her way back while nudging her mind gently back on track.
Glover didn’t show his true self, not even to his partner in crime, she decided. Glover wanted to be adored by everyone, and the only people who saw his true self were his victims. And aside from her and Andrea, none of the women who saw that side survived. Perhaps the main reason he was so obsessed with her was that unlike others, she had really seen him for who he was, all those years ago.
No, whatever Glover showed his partner was another disguise. He’d be friendly and accommodating and fun to be around, just like with everyone else. And when he finally broached the subject of his need, he would do it very carefully, in a way that made it seem like it wasn’t his fault at all. He would be the victim in his narrative. Who would he blame? Women? Society? His own parents? Whoever it was, it would be the thing that would get him the most sympathy from his partner. Sympathy and collaboration.
And he’d have to find the right partner. Someone he knew for sure wouldn’t be horrified or disturbed by what Glover told him. How had he found him? Had he searched online for like-minded people and, by a stroke of luck, found one who lived nearby? It felt wrong. As much as she hated to admit it, a large part of Glover’s charm was face to face. His easy smile, his disarming build, his easygoing body language. All a disguise, sure, but one he wore well. And he would use it when he sought someone he could trust.
She could see the parking lot in the distance and slowed her jog to a walk, breathing hard. Cupping both hands in front of her face, she breathed on them softly, thawing her nose.
Glover had met his accomplice face to face. Like Tatum had said, he had either met him at church, or he had met him somewhere else, and then his newly found friend had introduced him to the church. But what would Glover do in a church? Repent of his sins? Pray?
Something was missing. She needed to learn more about Riverside Baptist Church.
CHAPTER 20
Riverside Baptist wasn’t much to look at on first sight. A redbrick structure with a single tower, the entrance a simple arched crimson door. But as Tatum parked the car, Zoe noticed the little things. The blooming flower beds lining the external walls. The clearly tended lawn in the churchyard, three freshly colored wooden benches on its edge. Unlike the rest of the street, the area surrounding the church was clean of dry leaves. This place was tended with care.
Her phone rang just as Tatum switched off the engine. It was O’Donnell.
She motioned Tatum to give her a second and hit answer. “This is Zoe.”
“Bentley.” O’Donnell’s voice was sharp and icy. “Why did you tell the press that you were helping us with the case?”
Zoe frowned in confusion. “I didn’t tell anyone.”
“Well, it certainly wasn’t me. There’s a detailed article here outlining your involvement. Hang on . . .” A short pause followed, and then O’Donnell read aloud. “Sources close to the investigation report that the renowned profiler Zoe Bentley and the FBI were consulted regarding the case. Bentley helped the Chicago Police Department before, in the Strangling Undertaker case, and played a crucial part in his—”
“I didn’t tell anyone about this. What about the guy who saw me at the station yesterday? Maybe he leaked it?”
“He didn’t even know who you were and didn’t care. Besides, I had a journalist ask me about you yesterday afternoon. Told me he knew you.”
Zoe’s heart sank. “What was his name?”
“It was something stupid. Like . . . Nick Brick. No