When Jeff came back, the three of them had coffee with brandy. After he saw her nodding off, Eric picked TJ up and carried her to the guest room.
He came back and poured himself another brandy.
Jeff asked, “Do you think we should call Detective Conlin?”
“No. She’s not seriously hurt. She can tell him herself if she wants to.”
“Don’t you think it’s time to get the police involved?”
Eric had mixed feelings. “This incident could have nothing to do with our interviews.” Jeff tried to object. “Let me finish. Do I think it’s related? Of course, but proving it would be impossible. All we’ll have to show for it is TJ’s wound. Neither of you saw anything. I’m worried about everyone’s safety. And we still aren’t free of that psycho, Fischer. I’d suspect him except he never met TJ.”
Jeff said, “That policewoman who’s trying to get something on him—you said she sounded sympathetic. Maybe Lisa could have a talk with her.”
“That might be the best way to test the waters. We’ll have to talk about it.”
Later, Eric emptied the coffee pot and checked the fire before stepping out on the patio for his last cigar of the day. Afterward, he looked in on TJ, sleeping peacefully, the butt of her gun sticking out from under her pillow. He’d never seen her looking so serene.
The call from Eric, reporting what had happened to TJ, had stoked Lisa’s fears. She checked the windows and doors for the second time, glad she had Phanny close by. If anyone actually broke in, the dog would probably lick him to death, but Phanny had a huge warning bark that would deter most prowlers.
Lying in bed with her mind spinning, she worried about TJ, about all of them, and tried to focus on something pleasant. She thought about Thanksgiving, usually one of her favorite holidays. It was only two weeks away, and she hadn’t heard from her daughter.
And Tyler kept calling, trying to persuade Lisa to keep seeing him. His engagement hadn’t worked out. But Lisa knew things wouldn’t be any different. Exciting, yes. Great sex, sure. But beyond that, she’d be waiting for the next nubile young thing to lure him away from her. But tonight his warm body lying next to her would have done wonders for her troubled soul, despite her determination to move on.
26
Eddie Wysecki had no luck finding an address for Teal J. Peacock. After giving it a lot of thought, he called the number on the business card the guy had given him. He pretended to be a storeowner in need of security. Good thing he always kept a throwaway cell phone for emergencies. Like calling his bookie.
With no intention of showing up, he arranged a fake meeting so he could check out her car and license plate. He’d follow her when she gave up on the new ”client.” With a little luck he’d get her address. He hadn’t thought any further ahead. Eddie wasn’t sure she posed a threat to him, but he wanted to find out as much as he could about her. Just in case. He couldn’t afford to have anyone snooping around the bar.
The ruse worked, and she agreed to meet him at a restaurant on the outskirts of West Allis. He only had the guy’s description of her as a mixed-breed babe who dressed like a slut. When he saw a woman getting out of a small red car, one of those weird, fast little things, a mini-something, he wasn’t sure it was her. As she walked to the door, he noticed her security guard’s uniform, and knew he’d spotted the right woman. Parked in the back of the lot between cars, Eddie waited.
A mere twenty minutes later, she gave up on the fictitious client, left the restaurant, and drove out of the parking lot. Eddie followed at a discreet distance to a bank across from the shopping center in Brookfield. She parked in the back, entering the bank by a rear door after waiting a few seconds. Someone inside must have let her in. Now that he knew where she worked, it’d be easy to follow her home.
When Peacock left at five, heavy traffic made it easy for him to follow unnoticed. In downtown Milwaukee, he watched as she pulled into underground parking beneath a high-rise apartment building. She might just be visiting someone, so he hung around for a while.
He got lucky at six when she left the building on foot. She’d changed clothes, so he knew he had her address. Eddie left his car and followed her. There was a lot of activity in the area so he wasn’t concerned about standing out. But suddenly she stopped and looked around, as if she sensed him following her. Crap. All he could do was keep walking and act normal; being five-ten, brown hair, gray eyes, medium build—maybe a bit overweight—conservatively dressed, wearing glasses, and, as they said on the cop shows, no distinguishing scars or characteristics, all allowed him to blend in on the busy street.
Peacock’s movements made no sense. After she went into Vinnie’s, he got in his car and parked nearby. He tailed her when she left the area in an SUV driven by a skinny young guy wearing a brown leather jacket. He followed them across town to a Mexican joint on the south side, then followed them into the restaurant. After a minute or two, he saw her walk through the restaurant, heading toward the restrooms.
When he heard the screams, he rushed over to the hallway, and saw her running out the back door into an alley. Eddie nearly dumped in his drawers when he heard a gunshot. Ears ringing and heart pounding, he slithered out, trying to look casual. The last thing he needed was attention drawn to him anywhere near violence.
He couldn’t believe his luck when he entered the side street where he’d parked and saw her moving down the sidewalk, leaning on the guy he’d seen her with. When they got to their car, the guy opened the trunk and handed her something, then they got into the car and drove off.
Was she hurt? They’d be heading to the nearest hospital, but why hadn’t they waited for the cops to show? Odd, he thought, odd enough to keep following them.
Mystified, he followed them all the way out to Waukesha, then outside of town, where they pulled into a huge estate. The house sat far back on a wooded lot, barely visible from the street. Shit. Who are these people?
The best course of action would be to forget about them. Unless something else happened close to home, he was probably off the hook. This chick has bigger problems than me.
27
After they finished their interviews on Saturday, Eric and Lisa drove out to Eric’s to check on TJ. Lisa approached TJ, relieved to see her sitting by the fire wearing a headset and weaving to music only she could hear.
She pulled off the headphones. “How’d it go?”
Lisa, knowing TJ wouldn’t want a fuss made over her, didn’t inquire about her health. “Good. I think we’re almost at the halfway mark.”
Wearing a pair of black jeans and a sweatshirt hanging nearly to her knees—no doubt belonging to Eric—TJ got up off the floor with a grimace. “Got skewered like a frickin’ pig at a luau.”
“I think we should report it.”
“Nothin’ to report. Didn’t see nothin’. No way to tell if it’s connected to all this.”
The ensuing argument ended when Jeff came in and asked how she was doing. TJ replied, “I’m good. Eric’s taking me back to my place tomorrow as long as I’m not infected.” She wrinkled her face, looking over at Eric.
Jeff asked, “Do you think you’ll be safe by yourself?”
TJ gave him a glowering look.
Lisa said, “TJ, on Monday, Maggie’s coming in to give me an update on Steven Fischer, so I’m thinking I’ll broach the topic of what we’re really working on here. If she seems sympathetic, we can try to enlist her help.”
They continued to discuss whether to get the police involved until pizzas arrived. When only a few corner pieces sat untouched, Lisa said, “What about Thanksgiving week? I think we should skip the Saturday after the holiday. I’ll have time to set up some appointments for the following week.”
Jeff groaned. “My folks are in Florida, and Jamie’ parents invited me to have dinner with them. I’m not sure I can handle that.”