Fractured (25 page)

To his relief they sat in the kitchen, which was the size of his entire apartment but at least cozy compared to the rest of the house. The table was polished mahogany, the floor marble, and he wasn't exactly an expert, but the chandelier looked Tiffany. Still, more cozy than the rest of it, and that said it all.

Grasso asked, “Who wants to go first? I don't have a lot on my end, so maybe we should get that out of the way. The hospital was a no-go. I talked to the woman who had been helping Peterson with his research numbers and she knew nothing helpful. I wasn't surprised, but it was worth a shot. She said mostly they e-mailed back and forth, and quite naturally, he didn't discuss his private life. In her memory, she never saw him with Lauren Levine.”

Ellie didn't blink an eye at the disappointment, but Jason knew she was always moving forward and every setback just meant there was a need to rethink and reconsider. That was good, he operated that way himself. Looking backward had never been his thing.

She settled her arms on the table and gazed at him. “Okay, you want to talk? This is your theory, not mine necessarily. I'm still undecided if you are the lunatic of the year.”

“There's a vote of confidence.” Jason had been considering the facts the entire drive over. “Look,” he said to Grasso, “maybe I am crazy but we can link her to Peterson through the university and the hospital, and I am a body double for all three of the men who have been killed by the slasher unless you want to throw in Gurst, who may or may not be part of the equation and supplying her with the drugs. It isn't we're all twins separated at birth or anything, but pretty close to the same build and coloring. The last time Young was seen alive, it was with a woman with long, dark-brown hair. She qualifies. That's a tentative lead, but she has also made an effort to pursue me. We also think we are looking for a woman.”

Grasso's brows rose and he actually looked surprised, which did not happen very often. “All right, didn't see that coming. What? Start over if you don't mind.”

Jason did. He recounted the story of the car accident again, and as he spoke he became more and more sure that he really could be right, especially when he recalled his conversation with Georgia Lukens. “Lauren engineered the dinner with the governor, I'm sure of it. At the least she had to have told her father to tell her uncle about what happened or he never would have known. Was it altruistic or motivated?”

After he was done, neither Grasso nor Ellie commented and so he waited, slouched in the chair, thinking about it himself. Finally, Ellie brushed back her hair and said, “Picked apart it sounds improbable, but then again, the sum of the parts has me wondering.”

Jason said, “It all kind of chafes my ass, because here I thought she was just into me.”

He was joking. What it did was bring up memories of those ruined faces.

And Lauren knew where he lived. Nice. The impulse existed to move to a tropical island and call it a day. Only he knew himself too well. He'd be bored by noon the first day, fly back, and get on with the job.

“So,” Grasso said finally, “it seems kind of simple to me. Santiago calls her up and they go on a date, and we shadow. The worst thing that can happen is that she is not the person viciously killing men in our fair city and he gets to have drinks on the taxpayers' dollar.”

“That's the worst? Or,” Ellie countered, “she spikes his drink and plunges a knife into his back and then proceeds to use him like a pincushion right after she mutilates his face.”

“Ah, shit, now you're taking all the romance out of it,” Jason murmured. He asked Grasso, “You have any beer? This conversation is making me want one.”

“You drink too much.”

Santiago turned to look at her. “You're like a nagging wife without the benefits. Now if you'd care to include the benefits—”

*   *   *

So much more
like him to crack that kind of joke. It was a relief.

“I still think it's a bad idea.” Ellie was annoyed and overruled. The sun had set and Grasso had turned on the lights, but the room was shadowed, and to her, even though she knew he lived there, the house always smelled slightly disused. “You two really think this is a decent plan?”

Grasso was pretty impassive, but that was usual. “I think it is a little out there, but here's my take on it. The recurring theme is the drug. If we can catch her slipping something into his drink, then we've got something solid. A possibility she was seeing Peterson? There's just nothing there, MacIntosh, and you know it. Putting rufilin in a man's drink that fits the description of the other victims suddenly makes the circumstantial evidence compelling. With a little luck, she'll be carrying the same knife used in the other murders.”

“That does sound extremely lucky.” Her smile was sardonic. “I'm trying to figure out if a clever lawyer could finagle an entrapment defense.”

“No way.” Santiago sounded firm. “She tracked me down, remember? Offered me her phone number voluntarily. Before we left for the university I asked our guys to run it. Burner phone. I'm sure she has a regular cell, so why give me that one? So no one could trace a call from my phone to her? No law against that but another tiny bit of circumstantial evidence. Let's see if we can get enough to make a case for at least detaining her for questioning.”

She wasn't convinced but it was better than anything else they had. “Her uncle is the
governor
. We can't screw this up. We already have Mrs. Peterson maligning us in the press. Imagine what would happen if this theory is way off? We'd look like complete idiots.”

“There's nothing to screw up,” Santiago argued, his tall body sprawled in a chair, his face taut. “Look, I'll go on a date with her and if she makes a move, we'll have enough to take to Metzger. If she doesn't, the worst thing that happens is I have cocktails with a pleasant young woman.”

He
must
be certifiably nuts.

Ellie argued, “Gurst was shot, remember? If he tried to blackmail her because he'd sold her the drug, she doesn't like being threatened. You have a thick skull, that I'll admit, but it isn't bulletproof. She has a gun.”

“I don't think shooting me would give her the right buzz.”

That echoed what Georgia Lukens had said, so she finally shut her eyes briefly and agreed. “Fine, it's your neck on the line. We'll do surveillance. But either we're wasting our time, or else you're risking your life.”

And … don't
. She didn't want him to do this. Why she felt so strongly about it, well, she was afraid of the answer to that volatile question.

“Nothing ventured, nothing gained. In case you missed the memo, risking our lives is part of the gig.” Santiago took out his phone. “Let's see what she says. I've got fifty bucks that says if I offer to pick her up she'll suggest we meet instead.”

“You have fifty bucks? You're so much more responsible than you seem.”

Her partner gave her a sardonic look as he tapped in the number. “I was going to say a hundred but I need money for beer.”

The phone conversation was brief, but it was at least productive. When he hung up he informed them, “Called that one. I'm going to meet her at a place called Number Nine near the lake at eight thirty.”

“We'll arrive first,” Grasso said. “Two people on a date. We'll order drinks, and hopefully sit with a clear view of where you end up.”

“Get a table,” Ellie said to Santiago. “We'll sit at the bar. It'd be nice if we could have someone else there too. Maybe Rays would handle that for us. The garage homicide is his case, after all.”

“Wish I'd thought of that the other night, but even though I wasn't sold on the situation, I hadn't made a connection yet like we have now.” Jason rubbed his jaw. “Damn, I forgot to shave this morning. I'd better take care of that.”

“I'll call Rays. Backup never hurts anyway.” Grasso already had his phone out. “He has a vested interest in this.”

Ellie stood, trying to maintain a professional attitude but there was already a small knot in the pit of her stomach. “Let's go then. You can drop me off and Grasso can pick me up. This seems like it might just be a long night. I'm going to get something to eat and change.”

“Fine with me. I need to change too for my hot date.” Santiago's grin was irreverent as he followed her out of the room, which was no surprise. “Any suggestions?”

She wasn't sure how he could be so calm about having a drink with possibly a very vicious killer. “This isn't dinner at the mansion on Lake Mendota. Keep it in mind.”

“I know. Give me some credit. That was a nice night though, wasn't it?”

It wasn't a secret he tended to always push things to irritate her on purpose. The indirect reference to the kiss fell into that category.

Not to mention she didn't like being afraid for him. It was uncomfortable, and she was rarely uncomfortable with her job. Ellie looked him in the eye. “I do, actually, give you credit for being a good cop.”

He pushed a button on his key chain to unlock her door. The night had thickened, with low clouds obscuring the moon. “That's nice to know, but I wasn't talking about the job.”

“Let's not get our personal relationship into this for God's sake.”

“I wasn't sure we had one.”

“This conversation is now over,” Ellie informed him and climbed in.

 

Chapter 25

Her computer screen stared at her accusingly.

Georgia had taken out her phone twice, set it down without making a call, and now she just sat there with it on but unused.

Listening to your inner voice was something she preached, but apparently taking her own advice was more difficult than she realized.

Her notes were encapsulated into various behavioral columns usually, and with Rachel she'd certainly had plenty to work with, but it was Lea that really concerned her. Through her patient she felt like she knew her pretty well.

Selfish. Deceptive. Manipulative.

It seemed unlikely that in a city the size of Milwaukee she would be the single therapist that would be seeing two homicide detectives investigating a series of murders and also have for a patient the roommate of the actual killer.

Highly unlikely.

Beyond improbable.

But, the inner voice argued, what if the series of events was not as random as they seemed? Rachel didn't use her insurance to pay for her sessions. She always just paid cash. She'd said once that since she worked at a hospital, she didn't really want anyone to know she was seeing a mental health specialist and they would certainly know if she billed it through that department.

Logical.

But …

It was all bothering her. She was reviewing notes and going over sessions in her mind and something really did not add up.

So she picked up the phone yet again and this time made a call.

Ellie didn't answer but she called right back. “This is kind of an unusual time for a call.”

“This is kind of an unusual call.”

“Oh?”

“I don't do this.”

“Maybe you should define what it is you don't do.”

Georgia contemplated the request and then said succinctly, “I don't betray patient confidentiality lightly.”

“Good to know as I am a patient.” Ellie sounded curious and yet tense, her voice low. “Why are we having this conversation?”

“You aren't going to believe it.”

“That blanket statement does not intimidate me at all. I've seen some things in my life that would make your toes curl.”

Now that was undoubtedly true. Homicide detective equaled unusual situations.

“I have a patient who I think might know your killer in the slasher murders. I can't swear it, but this person is definitely a sociopath in some ways, and female, and there are some disturbing signs.”

Someone said something in the background and MacIntosh answered the question and then was back on the line. “Want to clarify? Because I am definitely listening.”

*   *   *

The place had
low, seductive lighting, high tables, and jazz playing just a shade too loud for his tastes. The expensive glitter of steel and glass was modern and sophisticated.

A far cry from the place he'd suggested the other night, but she'd seemed to not mind the shabby establishment. Lauren was certainly dressed for this trendy spot: white silk blouse unbuttoned so that if she moved just right, he could get a hint of a lacy bra and the shadow between her breasts, short leather skirt, black hose with a tiny pattern of some kind, and calf-high boots that were her only apparent nod to the winter temperatures.

Jason imagined that in this place, most of the patrons greeted each other with a kiss on the cheek or some such pretentious bullshit, but he wasn't interested in being someone he wasn't and doubted he could pull it off anyway, so he just took a seat opposite. “Hi.”

His date had on the catlike eyeliner again and her lips glistened with a ruby-red gloss that she managed to pull off very well. Her hair was loose and there was a silver bracelet on her wrist. “Hi back. I'm glad you called. I already ordered, but my drink just got here.”

He was still trying to figure out if his suspicions were just ludicrous. Could this fairly slender young woman possibly drug and stab three grown men to death and shoot a drug dealer? MacIntosh was right, they were stretching it.

Then again, Young had been transported by a sled of some kind. That indicated planning and that the killer couldn't directly carry the body. Once again, inconclusive.

MacIntosh and Grasso were at the bar, Ellie's back to them because Lauren would certainly recognize her. Grasso was leaning forward as if talking to her, his usual scotch in front of him but probably untouched.