Page 27 of Fatal Betrayal

"Who taught you how to drive? Your mom?"

"One of her boyfriends. He took me out a few times, but I pretty much taught myself."

He was torn between wanting to know more about her life after she'd moved away and wanting to keep some walls up between them. Because he couldn't let the good memories overcome the bad ones, which had been really terrible.

So, he looked out the window and watched the scenery passing by, trying not to think about the girl she'd once been or the woman she was now.

* * *

Andi didn't know what Cooper was thinking about, but his words had taken her back in time. She could still picture herself flying down the hills of their neighborhood on her bike. She hadn't been afraid of falling; she'd been too interested in escaping, in giving herself a rush that would make her happy for at least a few minutes. Unfortunately, the high had never lasted. Eventually, she had to get off her bike and go home.

As the traffic in front of her increased, she hit the brake, realizing she was going a little too fast, and she didn't want to make Cooper right about her being reckless. She didn't want to make him right about anything.

Although, she silently admitted to herself that he had been more helpful than she had expected. He'd gotten Neil to admit to an affair with Jillian, which was huge. Whether it turned out to be a factor in Elisa's kidnapping, she didn't know, but it was the best lead she'd gotten.

They arrived at Jillian's apartment building a few moments later. It was in a modest neighborhood of apartment buildings in Culver City. Jillian's apartment was on the second floor of a building called The Palms. After ringing the bell, a redheaded woman answered the door.

"I'm Agent Hart with the FBI," she said. "I'm looking for Jillian Markham. Does she live here?"

"She left about fifteen minutes ago," the woman replied, a worried light in her eyes. "What's going on?"

"What's your name?" she asked, ignoring the woman's question.

"Tamara Kinzie," she replied.

"How long have you known Jillian?"

"Not long. I moved in here a couple of weeks ago. A friend of a friend told me she was looking for a roommate."

"Did she say anything to you about a missing child or about Neil Benedict?" she asked.

"Nothing about a kid," Tamara said. "But she rants about Neil and his douchebag partner, Larry, all the time. She's kind of obsessed with how awful they are. I told her she's just going to drive herself crazy trying to get justice for sexual harassment in Hollywood. It's all over this town. But she can't let it go. I think something else must have happened that she didn't tell me about."

"Like what?"

"I don't know. I just get the feeling her anger comes from more than harassment, like maybe someone went further than that. But she didn't tell me anything."

"Where did she go?" Cooper cut in. "Did she drive off in her own car?"

"No. I think she got a ride with someone. Not sure if it was a rideshare or a friend." Tamara paused. "She took an overnight bag with her. I think she might be gone for a few days."

She felt a wave of disappointment that they'd missed Jillian. She could be anywhere by now, and it didn't sound like she was coming back soon. "Do you mind if we come inside and look in her room?"

"Uh, I guess not," Tamara said, allowing them to enter the apartment.

The living room was messy, with fashion magazines and empty coffee cups piled up on the coffee table in front of a worn couch that had been made more comfortable with a bunch of colorful pillows. Tamara pointed them to the first room off the hallway.

Jillian's room was also cluttered with clothes on the bed and on the floor. Judging by the empty hangars in her closet and a couple of opened drawers, it looked like she'd packed in a hurry.

On the desk, she found a pile of scripts, some with comments, some that looked unread, but it was the file with Larry's name on it that drew her attention. "Look at this," she murmured.

Cooper peered over her shoulder at a list of women's names with notes jotted next to them, where they worked, when they met Larry, what they'd said about him. It was pretty damning for Larry, with specific dates, locations, and descriptions of far more than sexual harassment.

"She's definitely building a case against Larry," Cooper muttered.

"Looks like a solid one. But we're not working that case. Where is Neil in all this? Where is Elisa?"

Cooper opened the drawers in the nightstand next to the bed. "Whoa," he said. "I don't need to be looking at this."

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