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She's Not There - Madison Marla - Страница 24


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“Nah, I had the feeling before I talked to the first guy, the one in my neighborhood. And I called the other one this morning. He was pissed ‘cause we didn’t show up at the restaurant. He claims his wife’s friends have heard from her. It checked out, so no, not him. And he’s too short.”

Eric leaned forward. “So this guy was tall?”

“Yeah, and something about him is buggin’ me. Can’t tell you what, though. Somethin’ . . .”

Lisa perked up. “If you didn’t see his face, it had to be his posture—or his gait.”

“Oh yeah, right, I can call the cops now. Tell them his ‘gait’ was familiar.”  She sat up in the chair, setting her empty mug on an end table.

“Sorry, just frustrated. Pissed me off I didn’t put a bullet in his ass.”

Lisa realized TJ had no way of knowing for sure she hadn’t hit her assailant, but let it drop.

TJ stood. “Gonna go back to my cell and hit the sheets. Night all.”

When she’d left the room, Lisa turned to Eric. “Her cell? Is she that angry with you for keeping her here?”

“No. That’s just TJ being TJ. Someone had to convince her to take time to heal, even if she won’t admit she needs it. She’ll be fine; the wound isn’t serious.”

Lisa stood. “I’m kind of tired, too. Do you mind taking me back to my car now?”

“Sure, but I’m either going to take you to your car and follow you home, or drive you home and get you to your car tomorrow.”

“I suppose I’ll sound like TJ if I object. Will she be all right here alone?”

Eric chuckled. “She sleeps with her gun under the pillow. And I have a state-of-the-art security system, approved by Ms. Peacock herself. She’ll be fine.”

After dropping Lisa at her car, Eric followed Lisa home. When she pulled into the garage and got out of her car, she saw him walking toward her.

“I’d like to meet Phanny.”

Phanny wiggled with delight. She greeted him with a wet, lightning-fast kiss.

“I forgot to warn you about the tongue,” Lisa laughed.

“That’s okay, I love dogs. I’m thinking about getting one.”

“I’d recommend adoption. Someday I’ll have to tell you the story about getting Phanny. There are so many dogs that have been abandoned and need homes.” He followed Lisa into the house, where he insisted on going through all the rooms.

Grateful for his protectiveness, she realized he hadn’t annoyed today. She had a feeling his negative attitude toward her had more to do with her profession than herself, but he’d yet to tell her why. She’d noticed the only calls he took during the day were business calls and suspected the others had been from a woman. Either he was avoiding the woman’s calls or didn’t want to have a personal conversation in front of Lisa.

Eric looked in on TJ when he got home. She was asleep, lying on her side. He bent over, slid the gun out from under the pillow and set it on the nightstand.

28

 

Two years earlier

 

There wasn’t a book on serial killers that described him. They were all a crock. He fit none of their DMS-III groups, or popular stereotypes. Supposedly, they tortured their victims, wrote puzzling letters to the police and/or press, left their victims intriguingly postured, and ultimately, escalated and went wildly out of control—this last factor making them easy to track down.

He’d done none of those things. His ladies rested comfortably on his property up north. Respectfully buried—no shallow graves for the wildlife to dig up.

For him, killing had become a hobby, not an obsession. After they arrested Allyson’s abusive boyfriend for her murder, he’d been successfully ferreting out abused women. It offered the perfect way to commit murder—the police always had a prime suspect.

Abused women were vulnerable, easily manipulated into keeping their meetings with him hidden. Some he dated once or twice then never saw again. They were the ones he determined didn’t need to be eliminated, kind souls with low self-esteem who gravitated toward men who abused them. He pitied them, leaving them to their miseries. He sought women who deserved to be treated badly—beautiful on the outside, but ugly on the inside–where it mattered.

29             

Detective Maggie Petersen walked into Lisa’s office early Monday morning.

“No doughnuts?”

“No time to work them off today.”

“I thought you’d like to know Steven Fischer will be in custody by the end of the day. We discovered some interesting things in his financials thanks to information from Helen. There’s no doubt he tampered with his wife’s accounts to make it look like she left on her own.”

“That’s wonderful news.”

“We haven’t found her daughter’s body yet. We’ve traced Fischer’s charge card purchases and found he’s staying at a motel near Madison. We suspect he’s getting ready to bolt. The motel is close to the airport.”

“You’re sure he’s still there?”

“Yes, the Dane County sheriffs are watching the place. And my impression of the man is his ego’s a lot bigger than his brain. He’ll be certain he’s crafty enough to be one step ahead of us.”

“Helen will be so relieved.”

“I’ll let you know when he’s in custody. As soon as we get the warrant, we’ll pick him up.”

“Maggie, thank you for taking care of this so quickly.”

“No thanks necessary. We’re glad to have this creep off the streets. Thanks to you, Helen’s life will be her own again.”

“What if he gets out on bail?”

“There’s always that. We’ll have to take it one step at a time.”

Lisa sat back, contemplating how to begin. “Maggie, there is something else I’d like to talk to you about. Do you have time for a cup of coffee?”

“Sure. We won’t be leaving for Madison for a while.”

They sat across from each other in Lisa’s office looking out at the nearly opaque lake, unwelcoming under a sky the color of poured concrete.

“Maggie, we haven’t been entirely open with you about why we met with Helen Mueller in the first place.”

“I didn’t think so,” the detective replied, “but I knew your concern for Helen was genuine, so I didn’t push it.”

“Is it possible to have an off-the-record conversation?”

Maggie nodded. “I don’t see why not as long as you aren’t going to confess to a crime.”

“We haven’t done anything illegal.” She told Maggie the story of their group, beginning with the statistics on missing women and her visit to the MPD. Maggie listened without question or comment.

“After what happened to TJ, we decided maybe it was time for some type of police involvement. TJ doesn’t want to tell Detective Conlin any of this until we have more than our suspicions to offer the Milwaukee Police. I would agree with her, except things are getting dicey. It’s possible the attack on TJ could have had nothing to do with all this, but I think it’s highly unlikely.”

“I’d have to agree, Lisa. What are you hoping to find that will convince the police to investigate?”

“We’re trying to identify women whose disappearances are unexplainable; those we’re sure didn’t leave on their own or were killed by their abusers. So far we have about eight. We hoped once we had the list completed, we’d be able to find common factors among these women that would tell us what happened to them.”

Maggie frowned. “Are you thinking one person is responsible?”

“Yes, but we haven’t ruled out more than one. And there are other possibilities, as James Wilson was so quick to point out.”

Maggie gazed out at the lake. “I know you’re all determined to see this through, so I’ll forgo the warning speech and any expression of my concern that two of your group could be murderers. Do you have any idea how much longer it’ll take to finish all the interviews?”

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