Terrified (47 page)
It was a long shot, but she had to try.
Dan Lahart’s cell phone rang once again. Lyle heard it past the roar of his vacuum cleaner. He shut off the Dyson and dug Lahart’s cell out of his pocket to check the caller ID. It showed someone named J. Knolls from area code 702 was calling. They didn’t leave a message.
He glanced up at the TV on brackets attached to the wall. Earlier he’d turned it on and switched the feed from the fourth security camera into this monitor. He wanted to keep an eye on the SUV while getting Lisa’s room ready for her. He doubted Lahart would wake up or try to escape anytime soon, but he wanted to play it safe. All looked quiet out there.
Apparently, all hadn’t been quiet in here. Lisa’s kid had thrown a hell of a fit and torn up a pillow earlier. Lyle had missed the show. But he was still vacuuming up the loose pinfeathers. He’d tossed the bedspread in the washer. He’d also wiped down the mirror with some Windex. He wanted the place ready for Lisa tomorrow.
He’d tell her to meet him at exactly 4
PM
. She’d park her car on Thirty-first Street, near South Day in Mount Baker. The Interstate 90 tunnel went under this spot. Lisa would notice a small scenic overlook with a sweeping view of downtown Seattle, Puget Sound, and the Olympics. She’d be instructed to walk one block down to Thirty-second, where she’d find an almost equally impressive view of downtown Bellevue, Lake Washington, the I-90 Bridge—and if it was a clear day tomorrow, the Cascade Mountains. He wanted her to see all of it one last time—before he took her into the van and chloroformed her.
PM
. She’d park her car on Thirty-first Street, near South Day in Mount Baker. The Interstate 90 tunnel went under this spot. Lisa would notice a small scenic overlook with a sweeping view of downtown Seattle, Puget Sound, and the Olympics. She’d be instructed to walk one block down to Thirty-second, where she’d find an almost equally impressive view of downtown Bellevue, Lake Washington, the I-90 Bridge—and if it was a clear day tomorrow, the Cascade Mountains. He wanted her to see all of it one last time—before he took her into the van and chloroformed her.
Once he had her here, she would never leave this room.
That was why it was so important to give her a good first impression of the place. Maybe he could have some flowers in the room, brighten it up a bit.
He remembered watching Glenn bring her flowers every few days while they’d been in their honeymoon phase. Young Travis had various spots outside their Winnetka home where he used to watch them through the windows. From up in a tree on the side fence line of their property, he peered into their bedroom. With a pair of high-powered binoculars, he felt like he was in bed with them. He’d pretend he was Glenn, making love to Lisa. He enjoyed pretending he was Swann, beating the hell out of her, too. The idea of giving her both pleasure and pain was so arousing. He wanted that kind of power over her.
He imagined Glenn had treated Cassie the same way. Once Travis had seen the bruises on his sister, he tried to persuade her to stop seeing the son of a bitch. But Cassie didn’t listen to him. Neither did Lisa.
He paid dearly for trying to warn Lisa about Swann. After talking to her in the hospital corridor, that same night someone jumped him by the outside back stairwell of his sister’s apartment building. Travis had been taking out the garbage at the time. He never saw the guy. He just heard his voice: “Hey, fuckhead, are you making the moves on my buddy’s girl? Are you talking shit about him to her?” All at once, someone came out of the shadows with his fist raised.
It happened so fast, Travis had no time to react. The first hit blindsided him, knocking him into the garbage cans. They made a loud clatter, which set half the neighborhood dogs barking. He hit the ground, flailing helplessly amid the rancid garbage. Just seconds later, his attacker kicked him hard in the stomach. It took all the breath out of him. He thought he was going to die.
“Stay away from Evanston-Northwest Hospital—unless you want to land in the ICU there. If you tell the police or anyone about this, you’re dead. Understand, fuckface?”
Travis nodded obediently.
But that didn’t keep the guy from picking up a tin garbage can lid and slamming it against his head—twice. After the second crash against his skull, Travis must have passed out.
The next thing he knew, Cassie’s downstairs neighbor—an old woman with a coat over her nightgown—was standing at the foot of the outside back stairs, screaming, “What happened? What happened?”
Travis automatically used the same lie his sister had told to explain away her bruises. “I fell down the stairs,” he said. “But I’m okay… .”
Actually, he wasn’t okay. He was still pissing blood two weeks later, when Cassie died.
At that same time, Lisa married Dr. Swann. The announcement of the happy couple’s union was posted in the
Chicago Tribune
only one day after Cassidy McClaren’s obituary had appeared in the same section of the newspaper.
Chicago Tribune
only one day after Cassidy McClaren’s obituary had appeared in the same section of the newspaper.
That was when he started spying on them. He couldn’t help feeling a certain amount of satisfaction watching Glenn abuse his bride after just a few weeks. He knew before Lisa—or anyone else—that Glenn was screwing other women. He thought Willow Dwyer was an odd choice, because she looked so much like Lisa. Why would Glenn want a cheap imitation when he had the priceless original at home?
After the good doctor dumped Willow, Travis stepped in and got her on the rebound. He’d started hanging around the hospital again after Cassie’s death—so he could observe Lisa when she was visiting her brother. He’d met Willow there. An adoring seventeen-year-old with a hefty monthly allowance was probably just what Willow needed at the time. But they had to keep their relationship a secret, obviously. Travis could pretend he was Glenn with Willow, and he could think of her as Lisa. It was why he’d burned her with the cigar that time. He’d seen Glenn do it to Lisa.
That little incident spelled the end of his relationship with Willow, which was just as well. He’d become bored with the imitation. He got more of a thrill spying on the genuine article.
Travis knew Lisa was waiting for her brother to die before she could run away. He’d stood outside Cliff Densmore’s hospital room, listening to them discuss it—their voices hushed. When the brother finally died, Travis increased his surveillance, spending hours of every day watching her. There were so many times Lisa almost spotted him—he was sure she knew someone was tailing her.
When he saw her pick up a
Milwaukee Journal
in the Winnetka Public Library, he knew she was up to something. From behind the periodical shelves, he’d watched her marking something in the newspaper with a pencil—and he was pretty sure she wasn’t working the crossword puzzle. He waited until she’d left, and then he examined the newspaper she’d been looking at. Travis noticed the tiny check marks for different sale ads. She’d been shopping for a car from private sellers up in Wisconsin. Since she drove around a new teal-colored Honda Civic, Travis figured this used-car purchase in another state was part of Lisa’s plan to run away.
Milwaukee Journal
in the Winnetka Public Library, he knew she was up to something. From behind the periodical shelves, he’d watched her marking something in the newspaper with a pencil—and he was pretty sure she wasn’t working the crossword puzzle. He waited until she’d left, and then he examined the newspaper she’d been looking at. Travis noticed the tiny check marks for different sale ads. She’d been shopping for a car from private sellers up in Wisconsin. Since she drove around a new teal-colored Honda Civic, Travis figured this used-car purchase in another state was part of Lisa’s plan to run away.
He called the same eight sellers she’d checked off. He told them, “I can’t get there to look at the car until tomorrow. Have you got anyone else interested in it right now?” One seller in Oak Creek said he’d just received a call from a woman who was coming to look at the car the next morning. Todd asked for the address, and promised he would try to swing by that night.
But he didn’t go to Oak Creek until early the next day. He parked down the street from the car seller’s house and waited inside his Toyota Corolla. Lisa must have taken a bus or the train up to Milwaukee, because she arrived at the house by taxi. Travis almost didn’t recognize her. She was wearing a raven shag wig and sunglasses.
Lisa drove away in her new purchase, a dark green 1992 Celebrity. Travis figured she must have paid the thirty-six hundred dollars in cash and used a fake ID if she’d gone to the trouble of disguising herself.
He followed her for nearly two hours to a rest stop outside Rockford, Illinois. Though he had to go to the bathroom, too, Travis didn’t risk getting out of the car. He didn’t want to lose his tail on her. He peed in an old, empty sixteen-ounce McDonald’s drink container and dumped it in the parking lot.
He stayed a few cars behind Lisa as she continued on for two more hours to a spot just outside Clinton, Iowa. She pulled into the turnaround at the end of a tall, remote bridge over a channel of the Mississippi. Climbing out of the car, she approached the railing and gazed down at the rapid water below. As he watched her from the other end of the bridge, Travis thought she was about to jump.
Instead, Lisa climbed back into the Celebrity, and drove to a Holiday Inn Express about a mile away. While she parked in the lot, Travis pulled over in front of the hotel and stayed inside his car. The raven-haired Lisa went in to register, and then emerged about fifteen minutes later. He saw her slip a room key in her purse as she boarded the hotel shuttle.
Travis followed the shuttle to a Greyhound station. From there, she took the bus back to Chicago. Somewhere inside the Chicago bus station, she lost the black wig. Travis imagined her ducking into a restroom stall to make the quick transformation.
She was home in time to cook dinner for Glenn that evening.
Travis had a feeling this was the last time she would cook a meal for the son of a bitch.
The following morning, he was already parked down the street from their house when Glenn went off to work. He was like a kid, getting ready for an exciting travel adventure. He’d stocked up his Corolla with supplies and clothes. Every two hours, he drove around their block and changed surveillance spots. He knew this Wednesday was the day she would run away, and he didn’t want to miss it.
Skulking out of the house at 1:15
PM
, Lisa loaded a suitcase and a Marshall Field’s bag into her Civic. But she went back inside, and didn’t come out again until 5:20. There was no disguise, no sneaking. She wore a trench coat and carried her purse. She climbed inside the car and pulled out of the driveway.
PM
, Lisa loaded a suitcase and a Marshall Field’s bag into her Civic. But she went back inside, and didn’t come out again until 5:20. There was no disguise, no sneaking. She wore a trench coat and carried her purse. She climbed inside the car and pulled out of the driveway.
Travis wasn’t sure exactly what she was planning. He followed her through rush-hour traffic on Highway 88 to Rock Falls, where she stopped at a Hardee’s restaurant and had dinner. He stayed in the parking lot. She took her sweet-ass time eating. Travis thought she might emerge from the restaurant in her black wig, but she was still Lisa when she got back on the road again at 8:10.
Lisa reached the Holiday Inn Express at 9:20. She kept glancing around the parking lot as she transferred the suitcase from her Civic to the trunk of the Celebrity she’d purchased the day before. She didn’t go inside the hotel. Instead, she hopped back into her Civic and drove to Fareway Grocery. Once more, Travis remained in the parking lot while she went inside. Maybe it was lack of sleep or all the driving, but he was starting to get frustrated and impatient. He wished he knew what the hell she was up to.
Lisa came out again ten minutes later with a small bag that appeared to have a liquor bottle in it. She climbed back into the Civic and drove to the high bridge she’d visited the day before.
Travis slowed down, killed his headlights, and pulled over to the side of the road. He watched her drive across the bridge and park in the turnaround area again. She remained in her car for about five minutes. When she finally climbed out and stepped across the roadway to the bridge railing, she was too far away for him to see exactly what she was doing. The bridge wasn’t very well lit, either. Travis got out his binoculars.
He saw her pour half of the liquor out of the bottle—into the Mississippi below. She took off her trench coat and draped it over the railing. Then she kicked off her shoes and left them there beneath the coat. She took the half-emptied bottle back to the car, quickly put on some sneakers, and grabbed her Marshall Field’s bag from the passenger seat.
With the binoculars, Travis glanced over at the coat and shoes by the bridge railing, and finally realized what Lisa had in mind. “Clever girl,” he murmured.
In the minute he’d taken his eyes off her, Lisa must have ducked behind her Civic and darted into the trees on the other side of the bridge. He didn’t see any sign of her. After a few minutes and three cars passed, Travis began to panic. He started up his car, and drove across the bridge. Stopping by the abandoned Civic, he jumped out and peeked inside. Lisa had set up the perfect suicide scene. On the passenger seat was her purse, a prescription bottle, the half-empty quart of Wild Turkey, and a note he couldn’t quite read.
Travis got back behind the wheel of his Corolla and drove slowly. For only a few fleeting seconds, his headlights illuminated a raven-haired woman with a shopping bag hiking along the roadside. She wore a long gray sweater. But she glanced over her shoulder and darted into the darkness.
Smiling, Travis imagined Lisa playing cat and mouse with the headlights of passing cars—all the way back to the Holiday Inn Express.
He drove back to the hotel, and grabbed some food to go at Boston Market next door. He also used the restroom. Back in his car with his dinner and time to spare, he contentedly waited for her. He knew she was on her way.
Travis realized Lisa had just ended her old life. And he was here as she was about to start all over again. There was no one else, just him. He remembered the year before, when he’d told her in the hospital corridor that he was in love with her. He’d said that his sister and her brother would be dead soon. “Then it’ll be just you and me,” he’d told her.
Young Travis had finally gotten his wish.
Lyle finished vacuuming Lisa’s room, and stopped to look up at the slightly fuzzy, green-hued image on the TV. He studied the SUV, parked between the house and the barn. Had it shifted a little? Was Lisa’s boyfriend awake in there? He stared at the TV for another few moments, and everything was still. He knew how quiet it got at night around here. There would be nothing to wake him up.
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