Trespass (15 page)

Chapter 33

A
fter seven that night, Victoria Braun was back in Manitowish Waters. She felt safe, ensconced in their log-sided home on Island Lake, away from Donald and away from anything reminding her of the incident sixteen years ago. Thinking of it as an incident allowed her to sleep at night and keep the nightmares at bay. At least it had until Norman’s house exploded and Sondra Jackson was murdered.

The Rosenthal woman, who insisted Norman had been murdered, was probably right. While not directly involved with what had happened back then, Norman had known all the details and might have paid the price for that knowledge. Were they all going to suffer the ultimate punishment at the hands of someone seeking revenge? Maybe her husband was right and her mind was dwindling like her youth.

She left the house and went for a brisk walk; a good walk gave everything perspective. With a nip of autumn, the air felt cool on her skin, and the scent of the big pines and the crunch of fallen leaves under her feet were soothing.

When she came back to the house she sat on a bench at the end of the pier, hoping the view and the night sounds would work their magic and calm her nerves. The lakes were quiet these nights. Many of the residents, including her neighbors on the peninsula, had already gone back to their city homes for the winter, their boats covered and tucked away from the elements. The days were shorter now; only a few deep fuchsia clouds were still visible where the sun had sunk below the horizon on the opposite side of the lake.

The thin, crescent moon’s reflection on the surface of the lake and the soft patter of the water against the dock were hypnotic. Victoria lay down on the bench and closed her eyes, willing her mind to rid itself of the past.

It seemed like she had dozed off for only a minute when she heard heavy footsteps on the pier, sharp against the fabricated panels, the sound unmistakable. Had Donald followed her here? Maybe he changed his mind and come up to the lake to comfort her. Groggy, she began to sit up, hoping to identify her visitor.

She felt a trickle of fear before calling out, “Donald?”

The footsteps stopped. Victoria couldn’t imagine who would be on the pier. One of her neighbors could have arrived late, but why wouldn’t they answer?

From behind the bench, a strong arm reached around her neck, catching her in an iron grip; she hadn’t realized the footsteps had been so close. Victoria squirmed, fighting to free herself, unable to scream. A pair of hands as strong as steel clamped around her neck. She couldn’t cry out or even gasp for breath.

Something crunched inside her throat.

Victoria fought to remove the hands from her neck, clawing at them with her lengthy fingernails, drawing blood from her throat that dribbled to the collar of her white blouse like the juice of an overripe peach. Her chest heaved with pain, and the bases of her eyeballs felt like they were on fire, ready to burst. The throbbing in her head had become unbearable.

Her efforts to free herself futile, she dropped her hands to her sides and gave in to her attacker. A blessed moment of peace was soon followed by sweet release and a welcome darkness.

She sank into unconsciousness.

Chapter 34

A
fter the evening with Richard, TJ woke up the next morning even more determined to solve the mystery of Teschler’s house explosion. There were answers out there somewhere; she just had to ask the right questions. Gemma arrived before nine, and TJ introduced her to the information on the whiteboards. She seemed impressed by everything TJ had accomplished, but also seemed rather distracted and left before ten.

TJ studied the boards and made a list of the things she still needed to work on. By midmorning she had gotten nowhere. Keith Fink, the man whose house Sondra Jackson had been murdered in, answered the phone and surprised her by agreeing to talk with her. “I have nothing to hide,” he said. Unfortunately he had nothing important to add to what she already knew. She did learn, however, that Fink and his wife were newcomers to the swinging scene and the tryst that night with the Jacksons had been their first outing.

She finally remembered to call Roland, the hairdresser who was a close friend and had been helpful in uncovering the plight of the missing women more than a year ago. She asked him what he knew about swingers in the area, assuming that working with women all day would give him inside knowledge.

“Sorry, hon,” he said. “I haven’t heard a word. But Larry might know something. He’s off today, but he’s been working here in Tosa for twenty-five years. If anyone can help you, it will be him. I’ll have him call you.”

More information delays followed. Then Teschler’s computer guy, who sounded like he was about twelve, told her he had mainly helped Norman with the maintenance of his system and hadn’t had anything to do with any content, in particular Norman’s book. He promised to call her back if he thought of anything helpful.

Crap. She added more swear words mentally and remembered the swear-jar pig. Probably didn’t count as swearing if JR was with her sister and no one else was around. And she hadn’t spoken them out loud.
Kinda like that tree fallin’ in the forest.

She regretted that she had never gotten around to lining up a computer expert to help her with the business research. TJ could do the online basics, but serious computer research was outside her capabilities. Her promise to Richard to stay out of cases that could be dangerous had limited the business to security work, so she hadn’t had a reason to bother with it.

She showered, quickly ate a bowl of cereal, and was about to leave when the buzzer for the entry to her office sounded. At the door, she recognized Detective Brian Haymaker through the glass. She opened the door, and he stepped past her before she could either object to his entry or trip him.

“I hear you’ve been questioning my witnesses. I thought it might be best if you and I compared notes.”

Overcoming the desire to boot him out of her office, she nodded to the sofa and chairs. Haymaker, dressed casually in jeans, a pale blue shirt, and loafers without socks, sat with one leg slung over the other. His hair, yellow as the hay in his last name, was still wet from the shower, and he smelled like Zest soap.

He spoke first. “I could use a cup of coffee.”

“There’s a great coffee shop in the village. I can give you directions.”

He grinned. “Not very sociable this morning, are we?”

“You aren’t going to be here long enough for coffee. What do you want?”

“Actually, my partner suggested that we consolidate our efforts.”

Interesting.
TJ hadn’t seen Tasha Wade since the morning at Janeen’s, but the woman had seemed pretty upfront. Apparently she had found out that TJ was a PI. She considered his offer. Teschler’s death, never the Wauwatosa’s police’s top priority, was beginning to look related to the others. It was what her client was paying for, and she couldn’t lose sight of that.

“Yeah? Does that mean I give you what I’ve got and get nothing in return?”

“How about I’ll give you something I know you haven’t been privy to and you tell me what you have.”

Shit, she could sure use something new. “Okay, spill it.”

“The night Sondra Jackson was murdered there were three intruders in the house.”

She had heard that one from Richard. “That all you got?”

He leaned closer to her and spoke in a low voice, a whisper that TJ suspected was for dramatic emphasis. “Sondra Jackson had sex with all three of them before they murdered her.”

Her nonswearing resolutions forgotten, she said, “What the fuck?” It was juicy stuff, but what did it mean? Haymaker sat back, smugly enjoying her reaction.

“You telling me this chick got it on with the intruders?”

“Looks that way. Unless she knew them somehow, there’s no other explanation. The Finks and Craig Jackson claim to know nothing about it and deny inviting anyone over for an orgy.”

TJ needed a moment. She offered him coffee and left for the media room where a fresh pot waited. Her thoughts spun. Should she show him the whiteboards? But then he would know everything she had; maybe she should just give him one piece he didn’t know, just like he had done. She poured him a cup of coffee and returned to the room.

“Well?” he asked. “Don’t forget this is quid pro quo.”

She gritted her teeth. “Didn’t forget.” TJ just didn’t have anything substantial to offer. Her whiteboard had more questions than answers and her to-do list was lengthy. Nothing she had to offer would generate any more information from the detective.

“I’m on the Teschler case,” she reminded him. “It seems like there has to be a connection somewhere. Haven’t found one yet, but the kid next door to Rosenthal, Lucian Krause, knows something.” Now that she said it out loud, she realized it wasn’t just a bargaining chip for Haymaker. The kid knew something; she felt it in her gut. “Matter of fact, the whole family is pretty guarded when they talk about the explosion,” she added.

His eyes narrowed. “I talked to them right after it happened. I didn’t get that vibe at all. They’re a little strange, sure, especially the kid, but I don’t think they were holding back. What’s your evidence?”

It was hard to describe what had given her the gut feeling. “None of them acted upset by the guy’s death. Teschler was their neighbor practically forever. It seems pretty strange. They were all twitchy when I talked to them, and Lucian was downright rude. You would think they’d have more interest in the explosion since it happened right across the street from them, expect them to be talkative, afraid it could happen to them.”

“What else?” he prodded.

“The kid was the last person to see Teschler that night. He did yard jobs for him sometimes and had access to the house.”

“And he would make the house explode, why? What possible motive could he have?”

“Dunno. Didn’t get that far.” She wondered if she should tell him about her suspicions that Lucian was doing more for Rosemary Haynes than pruning the bushes or that Norman had boinked nearly every woman on the block. Those details wouldn’t add anything to the murder he was working on, so she kept them to herself.

“Okay, I’ll bite. What makes you think Teschler’s home exploding is connected to Sondra Jackson’s death?” Haymaker asked.

“Too much going on around here. Two more deaths, a break-in at Rosenthal’s—smells bad to me. Makes me think there has to be a connection somewhere.”

Haymaker finished his coffee and stood. “It could be a lot of things. Don’t forget, Teschler and the Chapman girl’s deaths are still regarded as accidents.”

TJ shook her head. “Any cop worth his badge knows all this is way too much fucking coincidence.”

He smiled and opened the door to the street. “It’s been nice chatting with you. Call me when you have something I can use.”

She slammed the door behind him. So much for working together. She had to call Janeen; her sister could tell her when Haymaker’s partner would be there to pick up her baby. TJ would make sure to be there. Another woman would be more receptive and that one loved to talk.

Chapter 35

A
fter I left TJ, I returned home and sat in front of my computer, hoping to get some work done, and tried to ignore the clouds that threatened to ruin the day I had planned to do something other than work and grieve. The last few golden autumn days had been perfect, the bright blue sky highlighted by clouds as white and fluffy as whipped egg whites. I even cleaned up my golf clubs and considered calling Jon Engel to ask if he had time to play eighteen. Now it wasn’t looking like a day fit for golfing.

I tried to call Jorge, but he didn’t answer. The urge to discuss what I had experienced the night before had lessened, but I needed to talk about it. It might be better to call Lisa; at least she couldn’t be judgmental, while Jorge would be off and running, encouraging me to delve into it even further. I wasn’t sure I wanted to do that, although using planned paralysis episodes as a way to control them, to control the fear, was attractive to me.

Before I could call the therapist, the phone rang. My ex-husband greeted me. “I was wondering when you were going to pick up Norman’s computer. I thought maybe I could drop it off and we could have lunch. Or dinner later.”

It was tempting. Although I wasn’t keen on seeing Carter, I didn’t feel like driving downtown to Cityscapes to pick up Norman’s computer. The first rumble of thunder drummed through the open window at my side.

“I’ll meet you at Sazz’s for dinner, all right?” One of my favorite restaurants, Sazz’s was famous for their ribs and located only a mile from my house.

“I’d like that. Does six work for you?”

“Fine, I’ll see you then.” I realized too late I shouldn’t have suggested that restaurant because Carter and I had been there together many times when we were married. I didn’t want to set a sentimental background, but along with my sleeping patterns, my food intake had been sporadic lately, and my mouth watered at the thought of a barbecued rib sandwich. And I would have no qualms about eating the messy, calorie-laden delight in front of him. How to fend him off after dinner would be the problem, but I would worry about that later. Right now I only wanted to avoid spending the entire day and evening in this house while a thunderstorm rumbled around me.

Carter didn’t mention he had arrived by cab until after we had finished eating and were enjoying an after-dinner drink. Until then I had relaxed, enjoyed the delicious food, a glass of wine, and even the attractive man across the table from me. He could be a charming companion, and with his silver hair, sparkly blue eyes, and heavenly, eucalyptus-scented cologne, I lapsed back into the bewitched state he used to instill in me.

Any renewed feelings that had been awakened were dashed into scraps by his attempt to maneuver me into driving him home. “What about Norman’s computer?” I asked. “I thought that was the purpose of this get-together.”

“Gemma, I’ve been having a problem with my rental car. I would have been late if I had taken the time to get another one when I brought it in, so I took a cab here. I didn’t think you would mind dropping me off at my hotel. I have the computer with me. I checked it at the desk with the hostess so we wouldn’t have to have it here at the table. I can take a cab back to my hotel; it’s no problem. Honestly, I wasn’t planning on trying to lure you up to my room.”

Although he sounded sincere, I wasn’t sure he hadn’t planned this. I didn’t want to let myself be swayed into a decision I would regret, but it was only a car ride and I would be the one driving.

“It’s all right, I’ll drop you off.”

“Maybe I should go home with you and call a cab from there. I don’t like you going home alone in the dark after everything that’s happened.”

I shouldn’t have spilled my guts while we drank our wine, waiting for the food to arrive. It had apparently given Carter a false sense of my comfort in his company. But I only had Lisa to talk to about everything and she
had to
listen. The only thing I held back from Carter was the sleep paralysis. I’d had episodes occasionally when we were married, but they had never included a night visitor and hadn’t been scary.

About to give an emphatic “no” to his offer to come home with me, my reply was stifled by a blast of thunder loud enough to be heard above the conversation of the diners, the music, and the rattle of dishes. It made me realize I
didn’t
want to go back to my dark house alone and I acquiesced to his suggestion.

The gutters were filling with water as I drove us home, making me grateful my lot was on a slope; I wouldn’t have to worry about flooding. When we arrived at my house, Carter carried the computer in for me and set it on my desk.

“When did you get a bird?” He stepped over to Clyde’s cage and peered in at Clyde who became engrossed in looking him over with his head bobbing, watching him the way birds do. “Does he talk?”

As Carter looked to me for an answer, Clyde squawked, “Want coffee?”

I couldn’t help laughing at Clyde’s new phrase. I hadn’t taught it to him, but the words did fit with having a visitor in the house. He had overheard the coffee offer many times. Carter turned back to the bird. “Yes, thank you. I take mine black.”

Even Clyde seemed to be plotting against me by amusing Carter and making him feel at home. I put the coffee on while Carter took a chair close to the parrot, trying to teach him to say “Carter.” While the coffee brewed, I explained how I came to own Clyde.

A feeling of comfort filled me. With the rain’s constant onslaught at the windows, the sky dark as coal between brilliant flashes of lightning, I wouldn’t have felt secure coming in by myself. The installation of my security system had been put off another week due to an illness of one of their installers. I had to admit I was glad for Carter’s company.

Over coffee, I told him more about what had been happening in the area.

“Gemma, I don’t like the idea of you living here alone right now. Why don’t you move into a hotel? At least until you get your alarm system in.”

“Two reasons: First, there is Clyde, and second, I do most of my work here. It wouldn’t be practical to take all my equipment with me.”

“Many hotels allow pets these days, and you could always shoot over here during the day to work for a few hours.”

“You’re right,” I said. “I hadn’t thought that far ahead. I’ll make some calls tomorrow and see if I can find one that suits us.”

“Let me stay here tonight. I’ll sleep on the couch,” he added quickly. “Then tomorrow you can find somewhere to stay.”

Of course it had come down to this, Carter spending the night. I shouldn’t have been surprised. As if even the weather cooperated with the man, a massive lightning strike glimmered outside. Its branches streaked through the sky, followed by a clash of thunder that shook the house on its foundation. Within seconds, an electricity outage knocked out the lights. We sat in darkness while Clyde squawked, “Hail Mary! Hail Mary!”

Carter laughed. “That settles it. I’m staying. If you want me to leave, you’ll have to wrestle me out the door.”

“I’ll get a flashlight.” I felt my way to a drawer and pulled one out, clicking it on to fill the room with softly lit shadows. I stepped into the garage and retrieved a pair of battery-powered lanterns.

The thunder continued, filling my small house with tremors. I looked out and in the nearly constant flashes of lightning saw huge streams of water rushing along the street in the direction of the river parkway. There were going to be a lot of flooded basements.

We shared a bottle of wine and played gin rummy in front of one of the lanterns until Carter said, “It’s been a long day. If you don’t mind, I’ll take up my post on your couch.”

“That’s not necessary. The guest room is right around the corner; you’re welcome to use it.” I left him with one of the lanterns, picked up the other, then Clyde. I went up to my room, wondering if I should arm myself with a golf club in case Carter wandered my way with ideas.

I bolted the door behind us.