See Me (36 page)

Maria’s face was a mask. “What about a restraining order?”

“Anything is possible, but you and I both know it’s not automatic, for all the same reasons we’ve discussed. But let’s say that by some miracle, a judge does grant one. The law says that it’s not valid unless Lester Manning can actually be served. Which, again, may or may not be possible.”

“In other words, you’re telling me to pretend it isn’t happening.”

“No. I’m telling you to let me do my job.” He reached for the file. “I’ll let you know what I find out.”

 

 

“I don’t know why I went to him in the first place,” Maria said on her way back to the car, her face tight. “And you know what really pisses me off?” She didn’t need an answer. “He’s right. About all of it. And I know he’s right. If a detective had brought me a case like this, I would have turned him away. There’s nothing in the way of proof. Even if I
know
it’s him.”

“Margolis will check into it.”

“So what?”

“Margolis may be an ass, but he’s smart. He’ll get Lester to say something incriminating.”

“And then what? You think Margolis will convince him to stop? I thought it was over when I moved here, but even that didn’t end it. He knows where I live, and for all I know, Lester killed Copo. He might have been inside my parents’ house!”

It was the first time that Colin had heard her link Copo’s death to everything else that had occurred, and her obvious fear made something coil inside him.

This was going to stop. Let Margolis do whatever he was going to do, but right now, that wasn’t good enough for Colin. It was time, he thought, for someone to find out just what Lester was up to these days.

 

 

After he dropped Maria off at work, Colin popped in his earbuds, put on some music, and perched himself in front of the computer at his desk.

Lester Manning.

Proof or not, having a name helped to focus his thoughts, and he wanted to find out as much as he could about the man.

The only problem was that without easy access to government databases or official records, there wasn’t much he could do. There were no listings in the white pages for anyone named Lester Manning in North Carolina, nor could he find a cell number. There were two Lester Mannings on Facebook; one was listed as living in Aurora, Colorado, and the other in Madison, Wisconsin; the first a teenager, the second a man in his forties. Instagram, Twitter, and Snapchat turned up nothing, nor did a general Google search using the name and the city of Charlotte in various permutations.

There were a few sites that held out the promise of more information – phone number, most recent address, and the like – for a fee, and after debating, he typed in his credit card number and gave it a whirl. Thankfully, an address popped up in Charlotte.

There was a little more on Avery Manning, including a phone number in Charlotte listing an Avery Manning, MD, along with the same address he’d found for Lester.

Father and son living together?

Or outdated information?

There were also a few short articles on the father. The most recent one confirmed Maria’s recollection that Manning had had his license suspended for eighteen months, apparently for improper care of a number of patients. The most prominent case involved a young man who’d committed suicide. According to the article, Manning failed to properly diagnose the patient’s attention-deficit disorder and monitor his use of Adderall. Other patients claimed that they simply got worse under his care. If the date of the suspension was accurate, then Avery Manning still wasn’t able to practice.

Interesting.

There was a photograph, too: a man in his midfifties, with thin blond hair and light blue eyes staring out of an angular, almost bony face; to Colin, he could have passed for a washed-out gravedigger. Colin couldn’t imagine sitting across from the guy for an hour, spilling his guts and hoping for empathy.

Another article mentioned Manning’s work with prison inmates. The article quoted Manning as saying that many prisoners were sociopaths and beyond practical rehabilitation. Humane incarceration, he said, was the most pragmatic solution to criminal pathology. Other than commenting that Manning considered himself an expert on criminal behavior, Maria hadn’t mentioned his work in prisons, and he wondered whether she had even known about it.

A little more research eventually brought up the obituary for Eleanor Manning, which said nothing about suicide, but that wasn’t surprising. Most people didn’t want that fact made public. It also noted that she’d been a mother of three, and was survived by her husband and son. Cassie he’d heard about, but there was another sibling?

He reviewed half a dozen articles on Avery Manning before finding the answer; in an interview on the subject of depression, Avery noted that his wife had battled depression ever since their son Alexander Charles Manning had died in an automobile accident when he was six.

Alex. Cassie. Eleanor.

So much tragedy for one family. And Lester blamed Maria for one, maybe even two of the deaths.

Enough to make Lester torment and terrify her?
 

Yes. The original notes made that plain. As did the pattern.

Chronologically or not, Maria was experiencing the same fears that Cassie had. And like Maria, Colin knew how the rest of Cassie’s story unfolded.

After he got out of prison, Laws met Cassie face-to-face.
 

Cassie filed a restraining order.
 

The police couldn’t find Laws.
 

In the end, Cassie was abducted and murdered.
 

Was that part of Lester’s plan as well?

It was a massive jump to go from what had happened to Maria so far to the final step. Tormenting was one thing, murder was another, and he didn’t know enough about Lester to try to guess what he might do. That didn’t mean, however, that Maria should take any chances.

He spent another hour without learning anything more. So much for the easy part – information that anyone could find – and he wondered about his next step.

What did he
know
about Lester? And what could he
assume
?

Lester had a car. Or had use of a car.

Not a big assumption, of course, but he wondered what kind of information he could find if he had a license plate number. A few keywords into the search engine turned up a couple of companies with access to all kinds of public records, including car registrations and license plate numbers. It was a bit expensive, but it just might be helpful, and he made note of the websites in case the need arose.

Anything else?

Yes, he thought. If he was correct in his assumption, Lester had hidden on the roof across the street when Maria was at work. As for her condo, it would have been easy for Lester to watch her as she came and went, if only because her schedule was predictable. He wouldn’t have had to camp out for hours; he could have observed her from the coffee shop across the street or from a parked car. Following her to the restaurant and the nightclub would have been a piece of cake.

And?

Based on the meeting with Margolis, Colin needed proof that Lester was stalking Maria, and he wondered if he should drive to Charlotte in the hopes of putting a face to a name. Maybe even get a photograph, assuming he could find Lester. But then again, even that might not be enough. The florist had admitted he hadn’t gotten a good look at the guy, and Colin doubted the waitress would recognize him. Even Maria hadn’t recognized him up close.

And finally, there was Copo. The dog’s death also fit with the pattern, and the more he thought about it, the more probable it seemed that Lester had killed Copo to hurt Maria and her family. Because he’d been following Maria, he’d know where her parents lived. But more than that, it also meant that he’d watched the family regularly. How else would he have known that Copo had been left behind at the house? Maria had said that Felix brought Copo everywhere, even to the restaurant. That her parents rarely left the dog at home.

But how?

The Sanchez backyard had a privacy fence, and in a tight-knit suburb, a lurking stranger would have been noticed.

How indeed.

Twenty minutes later, he was driving through the Sanchez neighborhood, trying to piece it together.

Her parents’ house was quiet, apparently no one at home. There were, however, others out and about. A woman jogging on the sidewalk; an elderly man pruning the bushes in his front yard. A man pulling out of his driveway, heading somewhere.

Colin turned at the corner, then turned again, heading down the street that ran parallel to the Sanchezes’ street, backyards bumping up against each other.

The neighborhood was bustling, the kind of community where people probably watched out for each other.

Lester definitely would have been noticed.

Unless…

He slowed the car as he approached the houses that backed up to the Sanchez place, and the answer became clear.

The house directly behind Maria’s parents’ home was for sale.

More than that, it appeared to be vacant.

 

 

Maria was reserved when he picked her up from work that evening, and their conversation was desultory. It was clear that she wanted to avoid talking about Lester or Margolis.

She wanted to spend the night at her parents’, so he drove her home and waited outside while she packed an overnight bag. Next, he drove her to pick up her car at the tire shop, waiting until Maria was on her way before finally exiting the parking lot. He’d wanted to follow her, but thinking it would only make her more nervous, he asked her instead to text him when she reached her parents’ place. Fifteen minutes later, she let him know that she’d arrived.

Though she said nothing, he guessed she’d spent the drive to her parents’ house repeatedly glancing in the rearview mirror, wondering if Lester was following her.

 

 

Colin waited until after midnight to return to the neighborhood, his mind on Lester Manning.

Dressed in black, he’d parked a few blocks away and approached the vacant house. In his backpack he carried a small flashlight, a couple of screwdrivers, and a small crowbar. Still, if Lester had been inside the house multiple times – and unless he was an expert in picking locks or had a key – then Colin guessed he’d be able to get in through the same window or door that Lester had used. The entry point might still be unlocked; unless the Realtor had noticed it, there would have been no way for Lester to relock it once he’d left.