Spider's Web (31 page)

Mitchell nodded, ignoring the stereotypes in which Meredith placed Bernard and Hannah. “Okay,” he said. “We’ll just—”

“Sometimes it helps to talk about things a second time,” Zoe interrupted. “It might jog your memory a bit.”

Mitchell cursed himself for not discussing their interview strategy with Zoe beforehand. They’d be tripping over each other again.

“Anything that would help to find Wanda,” Meredith said.

“When did you realize that your sister had disappeared?” Mitchell asked.

“Well, she didn’t reply to my phone calls,” Meredith said. “We used to talk almost every day. And then I found out that she’d missed a shift at work, and they couldn’t get a hold of her. She was a doctor, you know.”

Mitchell nodded.

“I called Jovan, but he didn’t answer either, so I went to their house and there was no one there.”

“Did you have a key?” Mitchell asked.

“Yes. I let myself in. There was no one in the house.”

Mitchell knew from the police report that they’d found most of Jovan and Wanda’s clothes missing, along with some toiletries, their wallets, and their car keys. Both cars were missing as well. It all seemed to indicate that the couple had decided to leave in a hurry, though it wasn’t clear why.

“So you called the police,” Mitchell said.

“Yes,” Meredith said, nodding. “And they came and looked around. And then they said it looked like they’d gone on vacation and had forgotten to mention it.” She shook her head angrily. “I told them that Wanda would never have left with Jovan. She was in the process of divorcing him. The police just said that maybe they were patching things up. They were very impatient with me.”

“I’m sorry,” Mitchell said.

“After a week, when no one heard from Wanda, they looked a bit deeper,” Meredith said. “They asked some questions, checked around a bit, and said they’d call if there was any progress in the case. But they never did.”

A case like that, of a missing couple, would be very low on the police’s priority list.

“I never heard from Wanda again,” Meredith said. She said it calmly, her voice practiced, but underneath Mitchell heard a current of sorrow and longing. His fingers moved forward, about to touch Meredith’s hand in compassion, when Zoe said, “Why did Wanda want to divorce Jovan?”

“He was… not a good man,” Meredith said. “At first, Wanda was happy with their relationship. She was very focused on her career, and a life partner who didn’t really stand in the way was just the thing she felt she needed. But later on things began to bother her. She caught him lying to her several times. And he could sometimes lose his temper, become quite aggressive—”

“I’m sorry,” Mitchell said. “You said she caught him lying. Lying about what?”

“About all sorts of stuff. It seemed like he was lying for the hell of it. She once discovered that the names of half his co-workers were different from the names he told her. Or he’d make up a story about a patient that she later found out never existed. Just the weirdest lies.”

“Did she think he was hiding something?”

“Well… yes. But most of the lies he told weren’t covering for anything. They were just… lies.”

“You said that he was violent sometimes,” Zoe said.

“No, not violent. Aggressive. He was never really violent, but he would scream at her the most horrible things. Most of the times, he was simply cold, never demonstrating any affection. Eventually she wanted more.” She became silent.

“Eventually she wanted more,” Zoe repeated.

“That’s right,” Wanda said, but did not elaborate.

“Ms. Johnson, anything you can add will be a great help to our investigation,” Zoe said.

“I’m not sure what you—”

“Did Wanda have a lover?”

Meredith drew back.

Mitchell wanted to strangle Zoe. He’d been so close to making a connection. Now the woman would become cold and distant. Another dead end.

He was about to try and salvage the situation, when Meredith said, “Yes.”

“I see,” Zoe said. “For how long?”

“A few months. It was another doctor at the hospital. A really lovely man. She wasn’t proud of it, and she was about to tell Jovan.”

“We’ll need the doctor’s name,” Zoe said.

“Of course. His name is Barry Rose. I think I have his phone number written down. I’ll go get it.”

“In a minute,” Mitchell said hurriedly. “We’d like to ask just a couple of additional questions.”

“Sure,” she nodded.

He prayed Zoe would shut up, and pushed forward. “Are you sure Wanda didn’t simply run away with Jovan? Decide to start a new life with him?” he asked, trying to touch that raw nerve yet again.

“Of course I’m sure.”

“Why are you so sure, Ms. Johnson? People move all the time.”

“Wanda would never have left her job without telling anyone,” Meredith said angrily, looking at the floor. “She was so responsible. And she’d never… she would have let me know. I’m sure she would have let me know. She would have called me…” Her voice cracked, just a bit. Mitchell leaned forward and touched her wrist lightly. She raised her eyes and met his compassionate stare.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Of course you’re right. It isn’t likely that she just left.”

Her face crumpled, the words she’d wanted to hear for so long finally spoken. As tears ran down her cheeks, she told Mitchell about how close she and her sister had always been. How she was Wanda’s bridesmaid. How Wanda had always protected her when their mother complained that Meredith never aimed high, that she couldn’t find a nice guy, or a good job, or be more like her sister.

Zoe remained silent.

“I kept some of her things,” she said, sniffling. “Once in a while I like to look through them.”

Mitchell didn’t recall Bernard and Hannah mentioning this. “Can we see them?”

“They’re in a storage facility, with some of my stuff,” Meredith said. “Not far away from here. I can call the man at the reception tomorrow, ask him to let you in to take a look.”

“That would be very helpful,” Mitchell said, and Meredith smiled at him with a tear-stained face.

Mitchell realized the problem as soon as they left Meredith’s home. He was mentally preparing himself for the ride back to Glenmore Park when Zoe said her apartment wasn’t very far. Of course, she lived here, it was only natural she’d want to go and sleep in her own bed. Except they’d driven to Boston in her car. He was about to ask if he could take her car to drive home, when she said she had a really comfortable spare bed in the living room.

“Uh, I didn’t really pack…” he began, thinking of all the things he needed. A toothbrush was definitely at the top of the list.

“It’s just one night, Mitchell,” she smiled at him. “I swear, my cousin sleeps at my place all the time, and she says the spare bed is better than the real bed in her home.”

“Yeah, okay,” he said after a second. He could always brush his teeth with his finger. God knew he’d done that more than once when he was in college. They stopped on the way to pick up some Thai food, and then drove to Zoe’s home.

Zoe’s apartment was a small, three-roomed space, sparsely decorated. The air felt a bit dusty, as apartments were bound to be after being left empty for a while. The living room was mostly a couch, a TV, and a small coffee table on which several books were lying.

“I have a fish,” she said, unfolding the couch in the living room into a medium-sized bed. “And some plants. But I took them all to my friend’s apartment when I joined the investigation. I didn’t want to drive to and from Glenmore Park every day.”

“Yeah, I get that,” he said.

She got him some sheets from her bedroom, and then managed to locate an unopened toothbrush in her bathroom.

“I always buy a few,” she said. “I usually throw away my toothbrush after a few months. I don’t like it when it gets worn. It grosses me out.”

They ate the Thai food in silence. Mitchell felt slightly uncomfortable while Zoe seemed completely at ease, chewing as she stared at a random spot on the wall. She ate her noodles with chopsticks, but Mitchell asked for a fork, thinking he should really try to get the hang of chopsticks some day. He felt like a caveman, pushing his fork into the cardboard box like a shovel, noodles constantly dropping from his fork back into the box. Arguably, cavemen didn’t have Thai food, but they probably ate their takeout mammoths the same way. In contrast, Zoe distractedly picked up the noodles with the two thin sticks, opening her mouth delicately to eat, her mind elsewhere.

He went to brush his teeth. He wanted to shower, but didn’t want to step into his worn clothes afterward, so he washed his face and his hair a bit in the sink instead. He had been told several times that his body odor was nice, and he supposed it was time to put that theory to the test yet again.

He lay down on the spare bed, and Zoe went to shower. He tried to close his eyes, feeling exhausted and sleep deprived, but his mind kept churning. It brought up images of Pauline, as it always did in the evening. He wondered for the hundredth time if she’d have stayed with him if he had proposed straight after he bought the ring. Probably not, but a small part of him believed she would have, and he kicked himself repeatedly for not doing so.

The sound of running water stopped, and in the darkness he saw Zoe, wrapped in a bathrobe, come out of the bathroom. The same familiar smell of Pauline’s shampoo lingered behind her as she entered her bedroom. He breathed slowly and tried to relax, hoping sleep would come.

Thoughts about Jovan resurfaced. Would they find anything the following day? Perhaps Wanda’s lover could shed new light on the case, or maybe there was a clue in Wanda’s possessions?

The image of Tanessa lying there in the hospital popped into his mind again. She had tried to act brave, dismissing the entire thing, but he’d seen the pain in her eyes, and the fear. During the day Mitchell felt furious at Captain Marrow for calling off Tanessa’s protection, but at night he would become consumed with guilt, certain it was all his fault for arresting the wrong couple, for creating a distraction. If George hadn’t saved Tanessa, if she had been even slightly slower, she would have been dead. And it was all his fault.

Zoe’s bedroom door opened and she walked into the living room. She was dressed in a long blue shirt that reached the middle of her thighs. She walked closer to him, her bare feet soundless against the floor.

“Hey,” he said. She didn’t answer. Instead, she leaned over him, lifting her leg over, straddling him. He could hear her breaths, short and fast, as she bent forward. Her lips brushed against his and opened slightly. He lifted his head a bit, his hands still at his sides, pressing his mouth against hers. She tasted fresh; her tongue darted forward just a bit to meet his. She bit his lower lip, and he realized he was holding his breath.

His hand grabbed the back of her neck, pulling her closer, suddenly craving the taste of her mouth, the touch of her tongue. His other hand caressed her back over the shirt, fingers light against her spine, the shirt silky and smooth. As he reached her lower back he realized she wore nothing except for the shirt, that she was sitting on him naked, and it drove him wild. Both his hands grabbed her ass, pulling her forward; her arm crept back, her fingers sneaking into his underwear.

Later, as she slept by his side, her hair tickling his ear, he felt completely calm for the first time in days. After a few minutes, he was asleep as well.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

“This is the one.” Jonas Roza, the manager of Roza Storage Solutions, stood in front of a blue metal door. It was one of a dozen metal doors in that row, and looked just like the others, but Mitchell didn’t doubt Jonas’s ability to distinguish one storage compartment from the other.

“Can you unlock it, please?” he asked.

The manager nodded, and bent to unlock the door. As he fiddled with the stubborn lock, Mitchell glanced at Zoe, who seemed fascinated by Jonas’s efforts. Or maybe she just didn’t want to meet Mitchell’s eyes.

She hadn’t been in the spare bed when he woke up, though he wasn’t sure when she had left it. He’d slept deeply, and his phone had beeped for thirty seconds before it managed to penetrate his dreams and wake him up. Zoe had come out of her bedroom a few minutes later, already dressed, and asked him pleasantly how his sleep was. All morning, she’d acted as if the night before hadn’t happened, talking with him about the case, and the best way to tackle their leads.

Mitchell followed suit, though he wanted to say something about it. But what? “You remember the sex we had last night?” Or maybe, “Hey, great sexing last night. Maybe we should have more sex in the near future.” Any sentence he came up with sounded like something Austin Powers’ slower brother would say.

Perhaps Zoe’s attitude of leaving the night to linger only in their memories was better.

“There you go,” Jonas said as he rolled the door up. “Knock yourself out. Call me once you’re done.” He turned and left, leaving them alone with Meredith’s storage container.

It would have been nice if the storage contained only Wanda’s things, preferably in boxes labeled
For serial killer clues, start here. This side up
. But instead the storage container was packed with what could only be called junk. Meredith was a hoarder. There were stacks of magazines, a rusty bike, a bag full of glass bottles, old fabrics, a broken chair, a tent… and that was just what Mitchell could reach. It got worse further back. There was an odd smell in the air, as if Meredith had decided at one point to store food in this container, and then forgotten about it.

They began pulling things out, searching for the boxes. They decided to create a small tunnel in the junk, cutting toward the back, after noticing that the far wall of the container was lined with boxes. After a few minutes, Zoe began to sneeze and cough.