She's Not There (12 page)

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Authors: Marla Madison

BOOK: She's Not There
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38
 

Eddie Wysecki had no luck finding an address for Teal J. Peacock. After giving it a lot of thought, he called the number on the business card the guy gave him. He pretended to be a storeowner in need of security. Good thing he always kept a throwaway cell phone for emergencies. Like calling his bookie.

With no intention of showing up, he arranged a fake meeting so he could check out her car and license plate. He’d follow her when she gave up on the new ‘client’. With a little luck he’d get her address. He hadn’t thought further ahead than that. Eddie wasn’t sure she was a threat to him, but he wanted to find out as much as he could about her. Just in case. He couldn’t afford to have anyone snooping around the bar.

The ruse worked, and she agreed to meet him at a restaurant on the outskirts of West Allis. All he had to go by was the guy’s description of her as a mixed-breed babe who dressed like a slut. When he saw a woman getting out of a small red car, one of those weird, fast little things, a mini-something, he wasn’t sure it was her. As she walked to the door, he noticed she was wearing a security guard’s uniform, and knew he’d spotted the right woman. Parked in the back of the lot between cars, Eddie waited.

A mere twenty minutes later, she gave up on the fictitious client, left the restaurant, and drove out of the parking lot. Eddie followed at a discreet distance to a bank across from the shopping center in Brookfield. She parked in the back, entering the bank by a rear door after waiting a few seconds. Someone inside must have let her in. Now that he knew where she worked, it’d be easy to follow her home. 

When Peacock left at five, traffic was heavy, making it easy for him to follow unnoticed. In downtown Milwaukee, he watched as she pulled into underground parking beneath a high-rise apartment building. It was possible she was just visiting someone, so he hung around for a while.

He got lucky at six when she left the building on foot. She’d changed clothes, so he knew he had her address. Eddie left his car and followed her. There was a lot of activity in the area so he wasn’t concerned about standing out. But suddenly she stopped and looked around, as if she knew she was being followed. Crap. All he could do was keep walking and act normal, for once grateful his looks were so ordinary: five-ten, brown hair, gray eyes, medium build—maybe a bit overweight—conservatively dressed, wearing glasses, and, as they said on the cop shows, no distinguishing scars or characteristics.

Peacock’s movements made no sense to Eddie. After she went into Vinnie’s, he went for his car. He parked nearby, watching for her to leave. He tailed her when she left the area in an SUV driven by a skinny young guy wearing a brown leather jacket. He followed as they drove across town to a Mexican joint on the south side, then gave them time to get in before entering the restaurant. After a minute or two, he saw her walk through the restaurant, heading toward the restrooms.

A minute later, when he heard the screams, he hurried over to the hallway. It was empty but he saw her running out the back door into an alley. Jesus Christ! Eddie nearly dumped in his drawers when he heard a gunshot. Ears ringing and heart pounding, he eased back into the crowd at the doorway and slithered out, trying to look casual. The last thing he needed was attention drawn to him anywhere near violence.

He couldn’t believe his luck when he walked into the side street where he’d parked and saw her moving down the sidewalk supported by the guy he’d seen her with. When they got to their car, the guy opened the trunk and handed her something, then they got into the car and drove off.

She must be hurt. They’d be heading to the nearest hospital, but why hadn’t they waited for the cops to show? Odd, he thought, odd enough to keep following them.

He was mystified when they drove all the way out to Waukesha, then outside of town where they pulled into what looked like a huge estate. The house sat far back on a wooded lot, and was barely visible from the street. Shit. Who were these people?

Eddie decided the best course of action would be to forget about them. Unless something else happened close to home, he was probably off the hook.
This chick has bigger problems than Eddie Wysecki.

39
 

Lisa checked the windows and doors for the second time, glad she had Phanny there for company. If anyone actually broke in, she knew the dog would probably lick him to death, but Phanny had a huge warning bark that would deter most prowlers.

Lying in bed with her mind spinning, she worried about TJ, about all of them, and tried to focus on something pleasant. She thought about Thanksgiving, usually one of her favorite holidays. It made her nostalgic for dinners spent with her family when Paige was growing up. It was only two weeks away and she hadn’t heard from her daughter.

And Tyler was still calling, trying to persuade Lisa to keep seeing him. His engagement hadn’t worked out. But Lisa knew things wouldn’t be any different. Exciting, yes. Great sex, sure. But beyond that, she’d just be waiting for the next nubile young thing to lure him away from her. Lisa was determined to move on but on nights like this it was difficult. His warm body lying next to her would have done wonders for her troubled soul.

Forcing her thoughts from Tyler, Lisa tried again to focus on something cheerful, and when that failed, she got out of bed, looking for a pill to help her sleep.

40
 

After they finished their interviews on Saturday, Eric and Lisa drove out to Eric’s to check on TJ. Lisa was relieved to see her sitting by the fire wearing a headset and weaving to music only she could hear.

She pulled off the headphones. “How’d it go?”             

Lisa, knowing TJ wouldn’t want a fuss made over her, didn’t inquire about her health. “Good. I think we’re almost at the halfway mark.”

Wearing a pair of black jeans and a sweatshirt that hung nearly to her knees—no doubt belonging to Eric—TJ got up off the floor with a grimace. “Got skewered like a frickin’ pig at a luau.”

“I think we should report it.”

“Nothin’ to report. Didn’t see nothin’. No way to tell if it’s connected to all this.”

The ensuing argument ended when Jeff came in and asked how she was doing. TJ replied, “I’m good. Eric’s taking me back to my place tomorrow as long as I’m not infected.” She wrinkled her face, looking over at Eric.

Jeff asked, “Do you think you’ll be safe by yourself?”

TJ gave him a glowering look.

Lisa said, “TJ, I’m going to talk to Maggie on Monday. She’s coming in to give me an update on Stephen Fischer, so I’m thinking I’ll broach the topic of what we’re really working on here. If she seems sympathetic, we can try to enlist her help. After what happened to you, I think we need to finish as soon as we can.”

They continued to discuss whether to get the police involved until the pizzas they ordered arrived. When only a few corner pieces of pizza sat untouched on the trays, Lisa said, “What about Thanksgiving week? I for one intend to enjoy the holiday. I think we should skip the Saturday after the holiday. I’ll have time to set up some appointments for the following week.”

Jeff groaned. “My folks are in Florida, and Jamie’ parents invited me to have dinner with them. I’m not sure I can handle that.”

“If you need an excuse to get out of it, you’re welcome to come to my house. I always make enough food for a small army,” Lisa offered. “All of you are welcome. I don’t think Paige is going to make it, and I’ve decided I’m cooking even if it ends up being just Phanny and me.”

TJ looked up from the last corner of pizza she was nibbling on. “Usually spend the day with my sister and her kids.”

“Bring them too,” Lisa suggested. “It’ll be great to have kids around.”

Eric added, “Thanks for the offer, but I’m not big on holidays. I’ll use the day to catch up on paperwork. Since I’ll be gone the weekend before, it’ll pile up on me.”

Later, TJ, Lisa and Eric lingered in front of the fire, sipping coffee. TJ was tilted back in a big leather recliner, feet up and eyes at half-mast, a mug of coffee balanced on her chest.

“TJ,” Lisa began, her voice soft, “I know you didn’t see your attacker’s face, but was there anything about him you noticed?”

TJ’s eyelids widened. “When I went out that night, I had a feelin’ like I was being watched. Didn’t see anybody suspicious, but I have sort of a radar for that kinda thing.”

“And you think whoever was watching you could be your attacker. Could it have been the person you were supposed to meet at the restaurant? Or maybe the guy you’d just talked to?”

“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 that we didn’t show up at the restaurant. He claims his wife’s friends have heard from her and he gave us their names and numbers. 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 that TJ had no way of knowing for sure she didn’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 her 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.”

Lisa knew he wanted to make sure she got in the house safely. She was certain he was much more upset about TJ’s injury than he let on.

Phanny wiggled with delight at seeing company. Eric bent over to pet her, and she greeted him with a wet, lightning-fast kiss.

“I forgot to warn you about that,” Lisa laughed, opening the door to the house.

“That’s okay, I love dogs. I’m thinking about getting one, but it will have to be a laid-back sort that I could take to work.”

“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.” She led him into the house where he insisted on going through all the rooms.

Grateful for his protectiveness she realized he hadn’t annoyed her even once today. She had a feeling his attitude toward her had more to do with her profession than herself, but he’d yet to share with her why. She’d noticed the only calls he took that day were business calls and suspected the others were 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 again 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.

In his office, his message light blinked, reminding him he hadn’t called Danielle back to offer an explanation for his rapid exit at dinner the night before. Playing the message, he heard her voice saying she hoped everything was all right. Then, “Call me.”

41
 

Late Sunday morning, after dropping TJ off at her apartment, Eric met Danielle for brunch at the Radisson in Brookfield, his way of apologizing for their interrupted dinner Friday night. They shared a champagne brunch, seated next to a twelve-foot indoor waterfall surrounded with lush foliage.

They sampled nearly everything on the buffet and went back for multiple refills from the champagne fountain. Eric commented that after all that food he needed a nap. As if on cue, Danielle reached into her purse and pulled out a Radisson keycard. She smiled seductively. “Well, maybe a nap later . . .”

Sated with food and drink, sex made perfect sense as the next course. The afternoon and early evening hours were spent alternately making love and napping. When the sun went down, they ordered room service and shared a platter brimming with beef Wellington and steamed vegetables. With more champagne.

Eric didn’t arrive at his dealership until eleven Monday morning. At eight that night he was still at his desk, going over the website when Danielle called and invited him to dinner. The invitation seemed like too much too soon. But he’d enjoyed their little getaway the night before, and he had to eat, didn’t he?

The food at Merino’s was delicious and Danielle was lovely, but he declined her offer to spend the night at her place. She’d looked disappointed when he told her he was going to be busy getting ready to take some cars to an auction in Texas the following weekend. He explained all the planning that went into getting ready for an auction before realizing she was waiting for him to invite her along. Uneasy, he ended the evening as gracefully as possible and walked her to her car, promising to call her before he left on Friday morning.

42
 
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.

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