“What ways?”

“Like sex. It got weird. He started to want to do things that I didn’t like.”

“What things?” Christine kept her tone gentle, seeing that Hannah was reluctant to continue.

“Like he wanted to tie me up, to be submissive. I’m not an idiot, I could see why. He resented that I was doing better, so he had to assert his power. His dominance.” Hannah pursed her lips. “He wasn’t in control of his life, so he tried to control what he could. Me, in bed.”

“Did he say how he wanted to tie you up?” Christine shuddered, knowing that it dovetailed with the serial killer’s MO, tying up the nurses.

“Yes, at the wrists, in front.” Hannah’s expression darkened. “I know, when I read that’s what the serial killer did, it freaked me the eff out. I mean, when I first knew him, I never would’ve thought he was capable of killing anybody, much less being a serial killer.” Hannah flared her eyes in disbelief. “But then, when he got arrested, I thought about how he got so weird in bed, toward the end. I could’ve been his next victim.”

Christine felt sickened, but she had to press on. “Did the police interview you?”

“They tried to, but my father called our lawyer and she said no way. I don’t want to get involved. The cops might try again, but she’ll handle it.”

“So the police don’t know any of this?”

“No. You won’t tell them, will you?”

“No, of course not.” Christine realized the information was what Griff had called bad facts.

“I don’t know if he did it or didn’t. I just don’t want to be involved in this. Zachary’s just a guy I dated, and it was good while it lasted, then it fizzled.” Hannah met Christine’s eye directly, straightening. “Don’t involve me. Don’t even think about calling me to testify for him. I wouldn’t be a good witness for him, you can see that.”

“Yes, I understand,” Christine said, though she felt more confused than ever. She had gone from believing in his guilt, to believing in his innocence, then back again to guilt.

“Now that it’s over, I’m starting to think that I didn’t really know him. He liked to travel. He likes moving around. He never sits still. He doesn’t let anybody get to know him. He deflects really hard questions. He won’t answer stuff about his past. I think he used to tell me stories just to get my sympathy, like about his sister dying.”

Christine remembered. “But that’s a true story, isn’t it?”

“Yes, I think it is.” Hannah nodded, pained. “But even if it’s a true story, what I figured out about Zachary is that he tells it for a reason. He tells it to make you feel sorry for him, and he’s so good-looking, and nice, and smart, the combination is irresistible. I said to him once, ‘you’re the kind of guy who wins The Bachelorette.’ With him, there’s just no there, do you know what I mean?”

“Maybe,” Christine answered, truthfully.

“I have to go.” Hannah checked her phone, then stood up. “Take everything he says with a grain of salt. Even that he’s innocent.”

Chapter Forty-five

Christine phoned Griff as soon as she got in the car, driving out of the city on the highway. It took her three calls in quick succession to reach him, but he finally picked up. “Griff, we need to talk. First, you need a cell phone.”

“I don’t want a cell phone.”

“Too bad. I’m buying you a cell phone.” Christine thought of what Detective Wallace had told her about Griff’s money. “Or you’re buying one for yourself. Either way, you need a cell phone because Zachary was injured at the prison yesterday and they couldn’t reach you.”

“I heard, today. It’s over.”

“He saved the guard’s life. Can you use that to get him moved to Chester County Prison?” Christine steered ahead in the fast lane, whizzing past a wide river that ran beside the highway. Brightly painted Victorian boathouses lined the far bank of the river. It was a lovely sight, but she was no tourist.

“No, they won’t do it.”

“But he’s in isolation, in ad seg.”

“It’s hell, but it’s safe. Pick your poison.” Griff didn’t sound happy. “Now what do you want?”

“I went to the crime scene, then I met with Zachary, his boss, and his girlfriend and—”

“You want applause?”

“No, but I was hoping I could fill you in and we could talk it over. I could use a sounding board, like last night.”

“I want to die without being anybody’s ‘sounding board.’”

Christine let it go. “How about I just fill you in? I’ll begin at the beginning, because it’s complicated—”

“What’s the headline?”

Christine collected her thoughts, driving into the sun as the highway curved to the left. She flipped her visor down. “Zachary lied about when he met Gail because he didn’t want his girlfriend to know he cheated twice—”

“Good answer.”

“—but the woman who used to be his girlfriend is no longer his girlfriend. His old girlfriend’s name is Hannah Dolan, but she’s not the woman paying half of his retainer.”

“Don’t care. Deposited the check. Can the old girlfriend give him an alibi for the night of the murder?”

“No.”

“Can she give him an alibi for the other murders, Allen-Bogen and McLeane?”

“I didn’t ask her, or him.”

Griff snorted.

“I’ll ask him next time.”

“What about the new girlfriend? Can she give him an alibi for any of the murders?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t know about the new girlfriend until I met the old one—”

“Find out.”

“But I don’t know her. I’ll have to ask Zachary, unless your receptionist got the name of the woman who dropped off the cashier’s check.”

“I have no receptionist.”

“Whoever accepted the hand-delivery of the check, then.”

“Phyllis? She’ll do me no favors. That woman is a harpy.”

Christine let it go. “I’ll ask Zachary then.”