Midnight Rambler Read Online Free

Fox working the streets of Fort Lauderdale as a teenage prostitute. She'd been tossed out of her house by her parents and was what people in law enforcement call a “thrownaway.” I'd gotten her into a shelter and, over time, helped her get her life together. Since then, we'd talked on a regular basis, and I knew that she'd gone to work as a nanny for a big Swede who'd been giving her funny looks. When the call came in that she was missing, I took it.
    “Please describe what you found when you arrived at Lars Johannsen's house,” Cabrero said.
    Lars had met me at the front door. He'd explained how Abby had left five hours earlier to buy groceries and had not returned. I immediately got the color and model of Abby's car from him and issued a tri-county alert for the vehicle.
    An hour later, Abby's car was found parked near a wooded area a few miles from Lars's home. I decided to conduct a search using several sheriff 's deputies, plus some neighbors who'd volunteered to help. I also let Lars tag along.
    The search was conducted by the book. Everyone lined up six feet apart in the woods, took one giant step, stopped and visually inspected the ground, then repeated the process. After a few hours, everyone had started to slow down.
    Then something odd happened. Lars sped up and started plowing through the woods. As a result, the rest of the search party also sped up. It felt like a ploy, and I instructed the deputies to remain with the group while I stayed behind to search the area.
    It did not take me long to find Abby's shallow grave. She'd been buried in a shaded area behind a stand of thick cypress trees. I cleared away the earth with my hands until her head was uncovered. She was an attractive girl, and the ring of purple bruises around her neck made me choke up.
    There was also a white handkerchief covering her eyes. The placement of the handkerchief told me a lot. It said that the killer had known Abby and had feared her gaze, even in death.
    I caught up to the search party, found Lars, and took him to my car. I told him that I'd located Abby's body and watched his reaction. When he refused to meet my gaze, I took the handkerchief out of my pocket and showed it to him. It was in a plastic evidence bag, which I dangled in front of his nose.
    “Whose fingerprints do you think we'll find on this?” I asked.
    Lars looked away. The truth was, his fingerprints on the handkerchief wouldn't have proved a thing. It could have been Abby's handkerchief, which he might have touched at some time. Only Lars hadn't known this, so he broke down and confessed. A voice-activated tape recorder in the glove compartment had recorded everything.
    “Is that when you arrested him?” Cabrero asked.
    “Yes,” I said.
    I leaned back in my chair and took a deep breath. I had avoided looking at the jury while speaking, but I looked at them now. Their icy resolve had melted away. I'd swayed them.
    “Did Lars Johannsen tell you why he killed Abby?” Cabrero asked.
    “No,” I said.
    “Do you have any theories why he did it?”
    One of Lars's defense attorneys sprang to his feet.
    “Objection!” he said.
    “Sustained,” Judge Battles said. “Ms. Cabrero, this courtroom is no place for theories, despite the witness's obvious credentials.”
    “I'm sorry, your honor,” Cabrero said. “I have no further questions.”
    “Your witness,” Battles told the defense.

    I
did
have a theory as to why Lars Johannsen strangled Abby Fox, and it went like this: Lars matched the description of a guy who'd been picking up prostitutes in Fort Lauderdale and brutalizing them. It had gotten so bad that Vice had set up a sting operation in an attempt to catch him.
    My theory was that Lars knew about the sting and had decided to lie low. But over time, his cravings became too strong, so he hired Abby to watch his daughter. In Abby he saw a perfect victim. She was young and attractive and had no family. By having her in his employ, he could abuse her