Evil Never Dies (The Lizzy Gardner Series Book 6) (8 page)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Lizzy had been sitting behind the wheel of her car in the parking lot at a shopping center in West Sacramento for over an hour. Kobi Millard worked at the bank. She was one of many women who had been sexually assaulted by Wayne Bennett. Kobi was also one of the women whose reputation had been damaged before the judge ruled there was not enough evidence to hold a trial.

Lizzy needed to talk to her, and she figured Kobi Millard had to take a lunch sooner or later.

Her stomach cramped, and she winced in pain.

Damn.

She white-knuckled the steering wheel, reminded that she needed to make a call to the doctor. Something was definitely not right. It was time for a checkup, and she’d already missed one appointment. About to turn on the engine and ask her voice-activated phone to call her doctor, she stopped when she saw Kobi walk out the front door of the bank and head for her car.

It was about time.

The woman’s sleek black hair was rolled up high on her head, her bangs sweeping across one eye. She wore a two-piece gray suit and black heels. Kobi climbed into a silver Toyota Corolla with a dented bumper.

After Lizzy followed her car for less than two miles, Kobi made a right and parked in front of a grocery store. Lizzy parked nearby, jumped out of the car, and caught up to her before Kobi could enter the store. “Hi, Kobi, my name is Lizzy Gardner, and I need to talk to you.”

Kobi stopped and looked Lizzy over, her eyes scanning from head to toe. “You’ve got balls, lady, coming around, following me. I already told you on the phone I didn’t have anything to say in the matter of Wayne Bennett.” She pivoted, ready to walk off, but Lizzy grabbed her shoulder. “Get your hands off me.”

Lizzy let go. “I don’t have a recorder on me, Kobi, I swear. Not even a phone. I just need to know the truth. I can’t get the monster or even go after him if nobody will straight up tell me the damn truth. Is he raping young women enrolled in his program?”

A heavy sigh escaped Kobi as she looked around the parking lot. Finally, her gaze met Lizzy’s again. She nodded and said, “Yes.”

“Did he rape you?”

A very subtle nod was her response.

“But he paid you off, and that’s why you refuse to talk,” Lizzy stated instead of questioned.

Kobi’s somber expression turned to fury. Her anger tightened all the features on her face. The woman smoothed out the bangs covering her forehead and straightened her shoulders, lending power to her stance and fire to her eyes. “You’re a bitch, Lizzy Gardner.” She then jabbed her finger into Lizzy’s chest.

“Ouch.”

She did it again.

“Knock it off!” Lizzy looked down to see if she was bleeding.

“He didn’t pay me one cent. He threatened my life and the life of my daughter. Valerie is my everything. If he finds out I talked to you and messes with my family, I will come after you myself. I swear I will.”

“I’m sorry,” Lizzy said.

“No, you’re not. You wouldn’t still be standing here if you were.”

“He’s ruining so many lives,” Lizzy told her, “and he’s getting away with it. It’s only going to get worse. Miriam Walters is still missing, and yet I can’t find anyone who will talk to me.”

Kobi’s head fell. Her chin nearly hit her chest.

“We both know she’s probably dead,” Lizzy said. “And we both know who killed her. My girls and I have been following him for weeks. With or without your help, I will catch him in the act and I’ll make sure he’s put behind bars for a very long time.”

“Tomorrow night, after work,” Kobi blurted. “Six o’clock. He’s asked one of the women in the program if she would like to be interviewed for the chance to work for a very lucrative company. He’s told her the pay starts at sixty thousand.”

“You’re no longer in the program. How do you know this?”

“I have my ways. Just like you. The girl was warned, though. But sometimes we don’t listen because we all like to think we’re special, don’t we?”

“So there won’t be an interview. He’ll take her somewhere else instead?”

Her eyes narrowed. “You didn’t hear any of this from me. Me and you,” she said, “we never talked. And don’t you ever come anywhere near me again—you hear me?” And then Kobi Millard turned around, spine stiff and head held high as she made her way toward the store’s entrance.

Lizzy watched the house, her gaze on the electric gate in front of a long driveway lined with palm trees. Even from here she could see the fountain with trickling water in front of the grand entrance to Wayne Bennett’s mansion.

What is he doing at this very moment?
His wife probably shoved dinner in front of him and then watched the clock, waiting for him to leave. She probably didn’t give a rat’s ass what her husband did after he left the house. Women like Mrs. Bennett weren’t stupid. He’d already been arrested once, long ago, for molesting an underage female. And Lizzy could guarantee he’d be
arrested again. In fact, she was going to make sure of it. Mrs. Ben
nett was probably counting the minutes, waiting for a nice quiet respite from the evil man who shared her bed.

But did Mrs. Bennett ever stop to think of her husband’s victims?

Were diamonds and pearls worth living with a disgusting, manipulative excuse of a man?

Lizzy counted to ten and reined in her anger. She’d never met the woman. She shouldn’t judge. She wanted to throw up. Every thought of late, every bit of focus, was on taking Bennett down. She couldn’t stop if she wanted to.

Lizzy sipped water from her reusable bottle, and then rubbed her stomach. She felt bloated and uncomfortable. She unfastened the top button of her jeans and was rewarded with instantaneous relief. It was six o’clock already, and she began to wonder if Kobi had the date and time wrong. Maybe tonight wasn’t the night, after all. And that’s when the iron gates to the monster’s lair slid open.

It was him. Time to take care of business.

The video camera hooked to her dashboard was ready to go. She turned it on, waited until he was far enough ahead, and then followed him down the street. She’d been doing surveillance long enough to know she needed to stay a safe distance away.

Tammy Walters had confirmed that Bennett preferred to do his evil business under the cloak of darkness. He’d rarely taken her sister Miriam out during the day. The problem for Lizzy was that ever since he’d been under public scrutiny, he’d been more careful. He was a patient man. But although he had deep pockets, he’d already called in a lot of favors. She could only hope he was running out of people to bribe.

As she followed him, making sure not to miss a traffic light before merging onto the highway, it angered her anew that he used his position in life to take advantage of these young women. He was rich and handsome. A reputable man like Wayne Bennett made it easy for the women being mentored to throw caution to the wind. He was their savior—the man who could change their lives for the better. He took dreams into the palm of his hand and crushed them.

Fifteen minutes later, she followed him off the highway and
through a maze of smaller side streets, bringing them to La Riv
iera. Many of the houses on this particular road had weeds for lawns and broken windows. Most of the mailboxes had been dented in or were missing altogether. Kids vented, got their frustrations out by damaging other people’s property. And then they went on to become gang members, druggies, rapists, whatever. Nobody gave a shit.

Two blocks away, parked at the curb, Lizzy watched a young girl leave her apartment, turn back, and wave at whoever stood at the door before she climbed into the black sedan awaiting her arrival.

It boggled the mind to see the man at work. Not a care in the world. Right there out in the open for everyone to see. He wasn’t afraid of anyone. He was king of the world, powerful and in control. The hatred she felt for the man continued to grow in intensity. He used his success to manipulate people and make them do things to satisfy his revolting desires. Wayne Bennett’s father had been a well-respected businessman in Sacramento, all the way up to his death. Wayne Bennett attended the best schools. He married well and went on to have two kids. He made his family proud. After his business flourished, he decided to give back to the community. But apparently that wasn’t enough.

She followed the black sedan. The red light on the video assured her it was still recording. Her phone rang, lighting up the screen on her dashboard. It was Hayley.

No need to turn video off since it would not record sound. “Answer call.”

“Lizzy. It’s Hayley. Are you there?”

“I’m here. What do you need?”

“I thought we were going to have a meeting tonight?”

“We’ll have to move it to tomorrow night.”

“You’re not following Wayne Bennett on your own, are you?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“The man is dangerous.”

“He’s no different than the others on our list.”

“Since the disappearance of Miriam Walters, we agreed that Wayne Bennett should be a two-man surveillance at all times.”

“Gotta go.”

She disconnected the call. It was growing dark now, but the traffic was light, making for an easy tail. A mile and a half later, he took a right onto a lonely-looking street. As Lizzy drove on past, she saw his brake lights flash halfway down the block. After pulling a quick U-turn, she eased to the curb at the intersection in time to see a garage door finish opening and Bennett pull the car inside. Lizzy watched the door clamp shut.

What the hell was going on? She’d been expecting Bennett to pull into an abandoned warehouse or a parking lot, but a house?

After walking up the block for the street number, she returned to her car and called the police. She reported suspicious activity at the address, then dialed Kitally’s number. She didn’t want to knock on the door and give herself up too early. What if Bennett was there to pick up another girl? But why would he have pulled his car inside the garage?

“What’s up?” Kitally asked.

“I need you to use the Realtor database and look up an address for me. I need to know who a certain house belongs to at 552 Indian Drive in West Sac.”

After Lizzy was put on hold, she rolled down her window to get a better look at the neighborhood. A dog barked in the distance. The row of houses on both sides of the street across from her looked the same, mostly one-story homes with small yards. Despite the zip-up hoodie she wore, shivers coursed up her arms. Thoughts of Jared drifted over her just as Kitally came back on the line, saving her from feeling the wave of darkness that came over her every time memories surfaced.

“You’re not going to believe this,” Kitally said. “Most of the houses in that area belong to the JR Millennial Company, owed by Wayne Bennett himself.”

“Interesting,” Lizzy said. “If you could find out how many homes he owns in the Sacramento area, that would be appreciated. Just give me the information when I see you next, OK?”

“Not a problem. Be careful.”

Lizzy disconnected the call. She focused her attention back on the house into which she’d seen Wayne Bennett disappear.

The lights were on. No cries for help. Nothing unusual. The police were notoriously slow. Nothing new there, either. More than anything, she wanted to knock down the door and catch him in the act. She considered doing a search around the perimeter of the house. In the end, if she really wanted to get this guy, she needed to be patient. She needed to do things by the book.

At least for now.

At last she was relieved to see the lights of a police cruiser headed her way. The cruiser turned down the street and pulled into the driveway of the address she’d given the dispatcher. Two cops exited the vehicle, went to the door, and knocked.

It was a long while before the door opened.

One of the officers tried to peek inside, but his partner put a hand in front of his chest to stop him. They were talking to whoever had answered the door. Even smiling.

What were they doing?
“Go inside,”
she muttered under her breath.

From the looks of it, they weren’t going to do anything at all.

She’d had enough. She turned off the video.

Fuck doing things the right way—staying low and keeping out of sight—all bullshit.
She got out of her car, slammed the door shut, and marched down the middle of the street toward the house.

She joined the officers at the door.

Bennett looked disheveled. No jacket or tie. The top buttons of his shirt were undone, low enough to see a smattering of chest hair.

“Ma’am,” one of the officers said, “I’m going to have to ask you to back off.”

“Not until you enter the house and talk to the young woman inside. She’s underage, and I believe she was brought here under false pretenses.” Lizzy made a show of reading both men’s badges, setting name and numbers to memory.

The officer on her right looked uncomfortable. His partner, not so much.

“Officer Tagaleri,” she said. “If you leave here without questioning the woman inside, I will make it my business to report both of you to the chief of police.”

“Go back to your car, ma’am, and let us do our jobs.”

Before she could protest, he put a hand on his holster.

She looked from the officer to Wayne Bennett.

The man glared at her. His usually handsome face was pale and splotchy, his body stiff with ire. Recognition flickered in his eyes.

It was time to walk away.

Regaining control of her emotions, she turned around and headed back for her car, feeling three pairs of eyes on her back. Her mind was made up. If those officers left the premises without checking the house first, she would go in and take care of business herself.

She slowed her pace, took her time walking down the street and toward her car. She’d hoped Bennett wouldn’t recognize her as Stacey Whitmore’s camerawoman, but the undeniable glimmer she’d seen in his eyes before she’d walked away told her he knew exactly who she was.

When she reached her car, she opened the door and climbed in behind the wheel and turned the video on. Within minutes, a crying young woman, ushered by one of the officers, was helped into the backseat of the police car.