Trespass (16 page)

Chapter 36

T
J picked up JR from her sister’s house and headed for home, the fact that she had found out nothing helpful about the case eating at her like heartburn. When she arrived home and ran through the rain from the garage with JR bouncing in her arms, he giggled and opened his mouth to the raindrops.

If she weren’t a mother, she would be working the case even in this storm, but thinking about it filled her with a twinge of guilt. Richard told her she had the best of both worlds, but at times it felt like she had forsaken her previous one. Sometimes she felt sorry for JR; her son didn’t have the best world when his mother preferred murder and mayhem to spending time with her child. Bad thought. Not really true, but sometimes she felt torn.

They ate supper, and TJ sat with JR on the living room floor and entertained him with a variety of his toys, then gave him a bath and read to him. By eight o’clock, he was asleep.

TJ returned to the whiteboards and added “Had sex with the intruders” under Sondra Jackson’s heading. Was the woman on drugs? What else could explain her joining in the fun with the intruders in Fink’s house?

As TJ was about to leave the room, her phone rang. It was Larry, Roland’s friend, the longtime hairdresser who Rollie thought might know about swingers in the area.

“Hi, TJ. Rollie told me to call you. He mentioned you wanted information about swingers?”

“Yeah, it’s for this case I’m working. There might be some kinda connection to swingers in this area.”

“I suppose you can’t tell me anything about it, right?”

“Nah, can’t. Sorry.” Not being a cop, she could have told him whatever she wanted, but wouldn’t unless it became necessary.

“No problem, just curious. Not sure I can tell you very much, TJ. Swinging was pretty much a seventies and eighties thing, you know?”

“Well, it ain’t dead, I can tell you that much.”

“I suppose it isn’t. There was a pretty active group around here, maybe fifteen, twenty years ago. I had a client whose husband wanted her to try it, that’s how I heard about it. You wouldn’t believe what women tell me.”

“Did they get into it?”

“No, not that I know of. That was right before the big scandal. And anyway, after all that hit the fan I never heard any more about swinging going on around here.”

“What scandal?” she asked, trying to keep the annoyance out of her voice.
It sounded like just the kind of thing she wanted and he had glossed right over it.

The storm raged while she waited for his answer, and after the next clap of thunder, the lights flickered before the power went totally out. “Hey, Larry, my power just went out. I’ll call you back, okay?”

Irritated that she hadn’t found out about the “scandal,” she left the room to find a flashlight. After locating it, she went back upstairs and lit some jar candles. Her phone rang and she hurried to grab it. It was probably Richard.

“TJ, this is Jon. Is Richard with you?”

“No, he’s working cause of the storm and all.”

“I thought he might be. Uh, listen—I have some bad news. I’m at the hospital in West Bend—St. Joseph’s. Bill Denison had a heart attack. It’s serious. They’re doing tests, but he’ll probably need surgery.”

“Damn. I’d go over there, but I’m here alone with JR tonight.”

Bill and Donna Denison’s son, Jeff, already dead when TJ first learned she was pregnant, had been their only child. She had included them in their grandson’s life from day one and couldn’t have asked for better grandparents for JR. JR was their only tie to their son. “I know it’ll be inconvenient to come,” Jon added, “but Donna needs you.”

The freaking storm sounded like it would bring the house down any second now. Torn, TJ said, “I hate wakin’ JR up and takin’ him out in this shit.”

“Do you want me to drive in and pick you up?”

She was about to say she didn’t need his help, then reconsidered as she thought about making the round trip from West Bend in the driving rain in addition to dropping off JR at Janeen’s. “Sure. Come on over. I’ll call Janeen.”

Later, when she arrived at the hospital with Jon, Donna got up and came over to TJ. Wearing a damp jogging suit with a pair of too-white trainers, her eyes were puffy from crying; she clung to TJ like she was her long-lost daughter.

Chapter 37

I
awaken, startled, the book I’ve been reading lying heavily on my chest. When I try to remove it, I realize I’m in sleep paralysis mode. Amazingly, I remember to make an effort to overcome my fear. I do this by forcing my thoughts in another direction: on Clyde, asleep in his new cage near my bed, on Carter sleeping in the guest room, on the rain still doing its relentless Morse code against the roof above my room. This works until I become aware that, once again, I’m no longer in my room. I lie on the kitchen floor against the cupboards, looking out into the middle of the room. It’s difficult, but I manage not to panic. Until I notice them. Three dark figures are moving into the room through the patio doors. Nothing about them is clear, but their presence in the house I thought I had locked is terrifying. I burst awake, gasping for breath.

Fully awake, I laid the book on the nightstand and got out of my bed. My body trembled from the vision I had seen while I was in paralysis. I double-checked the lock I had engaged on my bedroom door, wary even with my ex-husband sleeping downstairs. It was secure. I put my ear to the door and heard nothing.

The electricity was still off, and the bedroom bathed in radiant flashes from the lightning beyond the window, my small bungalow threatened by the storm’s intensity.

Something crashed downstairs. It didn’t sound like thunder. Maybe Carter had gotten up and bumped into something unfamiliar, or was that simply wishful thinking? It couldn’t be happening again, someone breaking in again so soon after the other time. I told myself that what I had seen while in paralysis wasn’t real. There were no intruders here tonight.

My heart raced while my mind pictured horrible things. It was probably just that vision messing with my imagination, but I picked up my gun and walked to the door. With my ear pressed against its cool surface, I heard footsteps downstairs, definitely more than one set of them.

Was what I had seen actually happening? Could Carter be resisting an intruder while trying to keep me safe or was my imagination pulling me along in a current of bogeymen? Either way, I had to go down there. I couldn’t decide if I should call 9-1-1. I didn’t want to turn into the woman who cried intruder at the least little noise, but what if Carter needed help?

I quietly opened the door and edged out onto the landing above the stairs. I heard sounds that left no question about what was happening. I moved back where I couldn’t be heard, dialed 9-1-1, and identified myself. “Please,” I begged, “someone’s broken into my house again. Tell the police to hurry.” I spouted the address, knowing that with the conditions outside there would be many emergencies tonight and help might be slow getting here. It was up to me to do something immediately to help Carter. Holding the gun out in front of me with both hands, I descended the stairs, desperately trying to control the tremors of fear shooting through my body.

I entered a scene from a nightmare. Carter lay sprawled on the sofa in only his underwear. His white T-shirt was soaked in blood and his upper body rested against the floral cushions. His hips were balanced on the edge on the cushions and his bare feet touched the floor. The soft light from the lantern gave the room an eerie glow and just enough light to make the words scrawled on the wall stand out. Or were they even words? Horrifically, they appeared to be written in blood, and the downward flow from the letters made them nearly illegible. It looked like the writer had been interrupted. I didn’t have time to think about them. I had to help my ex-husband.

I needed to find the source of the blood and staunch the flow until the EMTs arrived, but I hated to put my gun down. Still gripping it, I hit redial for 9-1-1 and told the operator to send an ambulance. Then I looked around the room to be sure the intruders were gone.

One of the French doors to the patio was open, and rain swept into the room. They must have left that way. I felt the coldness of the wood floor on my bare feet and moved carefully through the water so I wouldn’t fall. I slammed the door shut and locked it, then hurried back to Carter and felt for a pulse. It was there. Weak, but steady. I lifted his T-shirt and saw a jagged wound above his abdomen. He must have been stabbed. I grabbed a throw from the back of the sofa and pressed it to his chest, applying as much pressure as I was capable of in my panicked state.

I never knew what hit me. A shadow passing across the wall became the last thing I saw out of the corner of my eye. I felt a shattering blow to my head and everything went black.

When I regained consciousness, I looked up and expected to see the paramedics, but instead, Detective Haymaker’s face cleared in my vision. I tried to ask him about Carter, but found I couldn’t speak. I realized I must be in shock, so overwhelmed by what had happened that my throat constricted. I was lying on the floor next to the sofa where I must have fallen after receiving the blow to my head. Haymaker knelt beside me, applying pressure to Carter’s chest. With his other hand, he covered me with a blanket and placed a pillow from the sofa beneath my head. For once I welcomed his presence.

I found of my voice. “Is he. . . Will he be all right?”

The detective held his position over Carter. “I don’t know. He’s still alive, though. You’re lucky you weren’t stabbed too.”

Using the coffee table for leverage, I pulled up to a sitting position. I wasn’t feeling lucky. “I have to check on Clyde,” I squeaked out.

“You’re worried about the bird?” he asked. “This guy is hanging by a thread, you probably have a concussion, and you want to look in on the freaking bird?”

There was nothing I could do for Carter right now, or for myself. These animals that had broken in tonight had messed with Clyde the last time they invaded my house. My head pounded with pain and I reeled with dizziness, but I shuffled slowly to the bottom of the stairs where I clung to the railing for support. From upstairs, I heard, “Amen! Amen! Amen!” until the litany became drowned out by another burst of thunder. Clyde, ken to something amiss in his world, had retreated to repetition. I couldn’t even pull myself up the stairs to comfort him; he would have to wait. The dizziness overcame me, and I sank heavily to the bottom step.

Chapter 38

A
n hour passed with no word from the doctors about Bill Denison’s surgery. TJ, her nerves on edge, held Donna while they waited. When Donna’s sister arrived, TJ left for the cafeteria.

Luckily, she reached Richard before he got to her house and discovered that she and JR were gone. He was pulling an all-nighter but thanked her for letting him know what was happening. He would pick JR up for her in the morning.

Although TJ was eager to hear what the big scandal was that involved swingers, it was too early in the morning to call Larry back. He said it had happened a long time ago, but you never knew what could be important. Just as she returned her phone to her bag, it chimed.

“TJ?”

She didn’t recognize the voice. “Yeah?”

“It’s Gemma.”

The woman’s voice was barely recognizable. “What’s wrong?”

“The intruders broke in again. They stabbed Carter.”

Her ex? Stabbed? TJ didn’t even know what the guy was doing in the picture. Last she had heard about Carter from Gemma, she wasn’t interested in seeing him and had been avoiding him. “Is he alive?”

“He’s in surgery now, and the doctor would only tell me that his condition is critical.”

“You okay?”

“I got hit on the head. They say I have a mild concussion. I’m sorry to call you at this hour. I hope I didn’t wake your son up.”

“No problem. Which hospital are you at?”

“We’re at the medical complex in Wauwatosa.”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can. Might take a while with this storm.”

“Thank you. Listen, I don’t know what to do about Clyde. I hate to leave him there alone.”

TJ didn’t like birds very much, and she had no idea how to transfer him somewhere else. She saw Jon approaching her, a questioning look on his face; she would pass the bird problem on to him.

TJ made it to Gemma’s room in the medical complex an hour later in spite of the outages and streets littered with tree branches. A man wearing a brown distressed-leather jacket, jeans, and sporting day-old stubble paced in front of Gemma’s room. He looked familiar. As TJ got closer, she realized it was Taylor Harcourt, the man she suspected was Gemma’s lover. He looked hot even in his casual clothes and in need of a shave. She saw why Gemma fell for the guy. She approached him as he walked by Gemma’s room.

“Have we met?” he asked, holding out his hand. “Taylor Harcourt.”

His handshake was firm and masculine. “TJ Peacock. I work for Gemma.” She handed him one of her cards.

“Right. She told me she hired you to find out about Norman Teschler’s house explosion. Are you going to be protecting her now?”

“Wasn’t planning on it. Should be a cop here.”

“I’ve been here quite a while. I haven’t seen any police yet.”

“Strange. I’ll check it out when I see the detective assigned to her case.” It had to be Haymaker, and TJ was surprised not to see him there. He should have had a uniform at the door, the asshole. Shit, now she was even swearing in her thoughts.

“You goin’ in to see her?” TJ asked.

“Ah, no. I’ll just wait here until you get a cop assigned.”

TJ started for the door to Gemma’s room. Harcourt stopped her, his hand on her arm. “Do you mind not telling her I’m out here?”

What’s going on with these two?
“Sorry, no promises.”

He folded his arms across his chest. “Fine. I’ll be out here.”

She entered the room. Gemma lay in the bed sleeping, her auburn hair tousled, her features at rest. There were no visible bruises or bandages on her face or her head. TJ slipped back out and opened her phone to call Haymaker.

“Haymaker here.”

“How come you aren’t at the hospital?” TJ asked.

“I assume that’s where you’re calling from, Ms. Peacock?”

“Should be a uniform at Rosenthal’s door.”

“There isn’t?” He sounded genuinely surprised.

“Nope. Just got here, and I’m it. Heard there hasn’t been anyone here either.”

“I’ll take care of it,” he said.

“Did you get the guy who stabbed the ex?”

“We have someone in custody, yes.” Having someone in custody and having the person who did the deed could be two different things. He must not be certain that he had the right perp.

“Don’t s’pose you’d share if it’s Lucian Krause?”

“It’s not Lucian Krause.” He hung up, leaving TJ with her mouth open to ask who it was.

When she stepped back into the room, Gemma stirred and opened her eyes. “Did they tell you anything about Carter?”

“Nah. Didn’t see anybody around to ask. They need to have a cop guardin’ your room. Haymaker said he’d get someone on it right away.”

“They think I’m still in danger?”

“It wasn’t your ex they were after. You’re lucky the cops got there so fast or you could have ended up like him. Or worse. Probably sending you a message to back off.”

“That doesn’t make sense. The police are investigating too, so why come after me?”

“Good question. My guess? Your friend Norman’s murder is at the heart of all this. We find out who made the house blow up, we find out everything.”

“I suppose that’s a small comfort. At least this will convince the police that Norman was murdered.”

Yeah, in a perfect world, TJ thought.

Gemma asked TJ to pour her a glass of water from a pitcher next to the bed. When she reached for it, she noticed a gorgeous arrangement of fall flowers decorated the nightstand. TJ handed Gemma the water and then poked through the flowers for a card. “Nice. Didn’t know they delivered in the middle of the night.” Harcourt, of course, would have been able to make it happen. “No card.”

Gemma turned to look at the flowers. “I hadn’t noticed them. You’re right, that’s strange.”

TJ didn’t owe Harcourt any favors. “There’s a guy outside, says he’s worried about you. Name’s Harcourt, probably from him.”

Gemma grimaced. “He promised to stay away.”

Stay away?
“Pretty hot guy. I wouldn’t turn him away.”

“It’s a long story. I’ll tell you about it sometime when I’m not so tired.”

Good, TJ thought. They had more important things to discuss. “Why was your ex in the house?”

“We had dinner together last night because he brought me Norman’s work computer. Carter was concerned about me being alone and offered to stay the night. He was sleeping in the guest room when they broke in. He must have heard them. They forced one of the patio doors open.”

“Haymaker said they had someone in custody. Did he tell you who it is?” TJ asked.

“I haven’t talked to him since the paramedics brought me here from the house. Would you please find out if Carter’s going to be all right?”

She answered, “Sure,” and left the room, thinking it would be unusual for hospital personnel to give her any information. Harcourt still lingered in the hallway. As she expected, they only told her that Carter was still in surgery. When TJ returned and saw that Gemma had fallen asleep, she nodded to Harcourt again on her way out and left for the cafeteria.

With a cup of coffee in hand, she dialed Richard and told him what had happened. “Have you heard anything? Haymaker said they have a guy in custody, but wouldn’t tell me who it is.”

“We’re pretty busy, but I’ll see what I can find out.”

“Thanks. I have to go back to the other hospital and see how Bill Denison is doing.”

“You should go home and get some sleep.”

“I should do a lotta things. Stay safe.”