She's Not There - Madison Marla (книги без сокращений .txt) 📗

Maggie, her face unreadable, said, “That may be overkill. Waukesha is sure to station a car here.” She looked at David, who stood stiffly at her side, his hands in his pockets. “What do you think?”

Looking over the room and its furnishings, he said, “Judging by the looks of this place, Eric’s a wealthy man, so it wouldn’t be a stretch to say he’d act to protect his friends by hiring a guard, even with a police presence. But I’m not comfortable holding anything back that could help with the investigation of this woman’s murder.”

Maggie said, “You can tell the Waukesha police whatever you want, but if it turns out this murder is related to your investigation or ambiguous in any way, we won’t have a choice—we’ll have to contribute what we know. As officers of the law we can’t withhold anything that might be evidential.”

The detectives accepted their silence as agreement and went outside to make their presence known.

The relationships among the departments bordering Milwaukee were amicable. As a result, when Oconomowoc detectives Maggie Petersen and David Lassiter explained to the other officers that they’d come over when Lisa, a friend of Maggie’s, had called, no one objected to their presence.

As the body was carried away, the officer in charge, a short, burly detective from Waukesha PD, handed them a photo of the dead woman’s face. Neither of them recognized the woman.

TJ, who’d been allowed to remain behind the rope when one of the county sheriffs remembered her as a former Milwaukee cop, walked over to them, her rigid posture the only sign of her stress. The three of them stepped aside.

“Have they questioned you yet?” Maggie asked.

“No formal statement, but yeah, they asked me a few things. Told them I never saw the woman before and that we’re friends of Eric’s, staying here for a while.”

“We’ll give you twenty-four hours. If this isn’t wrapped up by then, we’ll have to share what we know about your interviews.”

TJ looked away. “Gotta do what you gotta do.”

When the Waukesha police came into the house to take the group’s statements, they talked to TJ first in Eric’s office.

When they called Lisa in and they passed her a photo of the dead woman, her face burned with recognition. It’s Danielle, the woman I met in Jeff’s showroom.

Seeing Lisa’s reaction, the detective asked, “Is she someone you knew?”

“I met her briefly. About a couple of weeks ago.”

“Where?”

“In the showroom at Kristy’s. Eric took me there. I saw her looking at an expensive car; I don’t remember what kind.” Lisa took a deep breath, wondering if her suspicions had been right; was this the woman Eric had been seeing? Unwilling to voice her female suspicion, she didn’t feel the need to share her thoughts. “Her name was Danielle. I can’t remember her last name, although Eric did introduce us. Sorry, I’m really upset, but I think it’ll come to me.”

The statements were brief since no one really knew the woman. They’d been in the house at the time of the murder and heard nothing. It was clear the detectives thought the housing arrangement odd, but the group’s explanation placated them for the moment.

36             

Except for a lone squad car parked in the drive, by 1:00 a.m. the police, sheriffs, and crime scene techs had all gone, the only reminder of the night’s violence the bright yellow crime scene tape encircling the trees. The media presence had rushed back to their caves to report the sensational murder.

Jeff stood at the stove stirring the nearly forgotten chili when TJ walked into the kitchen. She bent over the pot, sniffing the spicy mixture, amazed to discover she was hungry.

Jeff turned to her. “We need to talk about the possibility this woman’s murder is related to us.”

“Possibility?” she scoffed. “You kiddin’ me?”

Frowning, he put down the spoon. “It’s possible there’s another explanation,” he insisted.

“Yeah, you go on thinkin’ that, and I’ll go on thinkin’ about what I’m gonna do with my millions when I win the lottery.”

Jeff served himself chili, then sat at the island staring into his dish, poking through the food with a spoon. TJ filled a bowl and sat next to him, berating herself for her thoughtlessness. The woman’s murder had to be plaguing him with images of what might have happened to his wife. “Sorry. Just seems obvious to me, that’s all.”

An hour later, a teapot Lisa put on had just started whistling when her cell phone rang.

Eric sounded out of breath. “Is something wrong? I just got back to my room and noticed your message.”

“I don’t know how to tell you this . . . ” she started.

“Is everyone all right?”

“Yes, we’re fine.”  She blurted, “We had to get in touch with yo before the police did—a woman was murdered in the woods behind the house.”

“Did anyone get a look at her?”

“TJ and Jeff did when they found her. The police showed the rest of us her photo.”

“Can you describe her?”

There wasn’t an easy way to break the news. “I’m sorry, Eric. The woman was Danielle Ventura.”

Lisa heard him catch his breath. She carried the phone to the laundry room, shutting the door behind her.

Minutes later, she came back out to find everyone looking at her.

“So, what did he say about her?” TJ probed, following her into the kitchen.

“He can’t come back until Sunday morning. That’s the soonest he can get away and leave his manager in charge. He’ll hop a red-eye after the auction tomorrow night—tonight, actually—and get here early Sunday.”

TJ persisted. “Who is she?”

Lisa hadn’t shared her suspicions about Eric’s love life with any of the others. “She’s a divorcee he’s been dating. He told me she’d become very possessive. Whenever he told her he’d call her, she couldn’t wait and would call and pressure him. Before he left he explained to her he wasn’t looking for a relationship, but didn’t think he got through to her. He’d planned on talking to her about it again when he got back.”

“Crap. Good thing he’s in Texas. It would look bad for him—another woman in his life murdered.”

Lisa added, “He only dated her the last couple weeks. Not a lot of time to have a motive to murder someone.” Eric would be devastated. He’d feel to blame somehow no matter who was responsible for the woman’s death.

TJ’s cell phone buzzed. She walked out of the room, speaking in low tones. Lisa wondered if Eric had called TJ to ask for more details.

When TJ came back in the room, she busied herself picking up the used bowls, rinsing them out and putting them in the dishwasher. She kept her eyes down, arranging dishes on the top shelf. Finally, she turned to face Lisa and Jeff. “Eric called back. He asked me if anyone noticed the dead woman resembled one of us. Told him no. No one noticed.”

Lisa felt a tightening in her stomach. Her voice at least a pitch too high, she asked, “Who does he think she looks like?”

“You.”

Lisa stepped back, her heart pounding, a lizard of fear crawling through her. It hadn’t occurred to her—she and Danielle were about the same height. And Danielle’s hair. She’d had it pinned up when Lisa met her, but she imagined worn loose, it would look like hers. She moved to the couch and sat down hard with a loud swoosh of its overstuffed cushions.

She looked up at TJ. “That would explain it, wouldn’t it? Whoever is killing these abused women knows about us. He thinks getting rid of one of us will stop us from pursuing our inquiries. It’s time to tell the police what we’re doing.”

Lisa heard a soft knock on her door. She opened it to TJ, who walked in wearing a red plaid nightshirt with worn brown slippers.

“Got a question for you. Did you know Eric was seeing this chick?”

Lisa hadn’t really known. “He didn’t say anything about her when we were doing interviews.”