She's Not There, стр. 32

TJ arrived next, her arms full of Chinese takeout. The rich, spicy odor of ginger and soy filled the room as they busied themselves getting out napkins and plates. A call from Maggie interrupted the preparations. Lisa put the phone on speaker.

Maggie told them about the suspect, Eddie Wysecki. “We haven’t found him yet, but he may be your killer. We searched his bar and found an old coal chute in the cellar. We found the bodies of three women inside. This will be a field day for the media and take you folks out of the spotlight.”

“Do you think they’ll find more bodies?” Lisa asked.

“They’re still looking. If he’s your killer, he’ll have more bodies stashed somewhere else. Three wouldn’t account for the stats on missing women.”

Lisa, disappointed, rubbed the back of her neck. “No, they wouldn’t.” She’d been hoping with this discovery, it would all be over. But a second killer?

“Do you know who any of them are?” Jeff asked.

“No. And identification could take some time.”

TJ asked, “Do they know if he’s the one who killed Danielle?”

“His car was seen in the area two nights running. Everything points to him, but we don’t have a motive.”

After they ended the call, TJ said, “We’re off the hook. Won’t matter if this Wysecki isn’t our guy. The cops will put it all on him whether they find more bodies or not.”

41             

The security guard sat quietly in the back seat as Jeff drove to a late-night appointment, an extra safeguard insisted on by Lisa since there was still a squad stationed in front of the house. The address, on a street southwest of downtown Milwaukee, was in a neighborhood past its prime—if it ever had one. Now mostly Hispanic and transient, the houses were shabby and ill-kept, a far cry from its beginnings as an oasis for Polish immigrants. Known as a high crime area, the guard asked why the need to go there so late.

“We gotta go when we gotta go,” said TJ, offering no explanation. “Hope this dude shows.”

Jeff asked, “What’s his name?”

TJ turned on the reading light to get a look at the note Lisa had given her. “The guy is Raoul Lopez. This says he’s a friend of the missing woman’s brother and the only person Lisa could reach. Note says don’t expect much of this one.” She turned off the light. “Great. A wild goose chase in a crappy neighborhood. Way to ruin a Saturday night.”

Because of the late interview, TJ had been forced to tell Richard she already had plans with her sister. She hadn’t told him just what those plans were, but promised to meet him the next day. He hadn’t sounded upset with her, but she could tell he was getting suspicious.

At their destination, a dark street lined with aged, two-family homes, TJ and Jeff walked up to a worn-out duplex, its siding painted a hideously brilliant shade of blue. No lights appeared in the lower flat as they walked around the side of the house to the entrance of the upper where they’d seen a faint light coming from the front window.

With no operable lighting on the stairs leading to the upper flat, they had to rely on the small flashlight TJ carried. At the top of the stairs, TJ knocked on the door. No one answered. They hadn’t seen Raoul enter, so he might already be inside. She spoke the man’s name loudly, knocked again, and tried the door. It wasn’t locked.

“Maybe we’d better get the guard,” said Jeff before TJ could open the door any further.

“Nah, it’s okay, nobody’s here.” But she handed him the flashlight and pulled out her gun as she walked through the door. “Or maybe not,” she whispered.

A dim light from a TV broke the darkness as the sound of a laugh track came from a small living room to the right of the kitchen where TJ and Jeff stood next to a yellow, Formica-topped table.

TJ called, “Hello, anyone home? We’re here to meet Raoul.”

No answer. They edged carefully into the living room. Still holding the gun, TJ reached over and turned on a lamp perched on a packing carton next to a ratty sofa. In its dim light they saw a small child, maybe four or five years old, curled up on the sofa, knees bent up to the chin, staring at them with fearful, dark eyes. TJ couldn’t tell if it was a boy or a girl. The kid wore blue jeans and an oversized sweatshirt; its dark hair covered most of his or her face.

Jeff squatted down to make himself eye level with the child. “What’s your name?”

The child didn’t answer, just stared up at them through dark, stringy hair, something gripped tightly under its arm, as if trying to keep it hidden from them.

“Can I see what you have?” Jeff asked softly. Clutching it with both hands, the child reluctantly pulled out a baby doll wearing a tattered pink dress.

He sat down next to her. “She’s real pretty. What’s her name?” The girl hugged the doll to her chest, silent.

TJ left the room to make sure the child was the only occupant of the apartment. The kitchen’s cupboards were empty and the refrigerator held nothing but a few cans of beer. The only edible thing TJ found was a package of elbow macaroni. An open garbage can overflowed and the table in the middle of the room sat under a layer of grime and fast food wrappers. A look in the two small bedrooms revealed more squalor: the beds unmade, sheets gray and unwashed. Some moron had left the kid alone in this cesspool.

TJ walked back to the sofa where Jeff offered the girl a granola bar. The child reached for the bar slowly, her gaze never leaving Jeff. She looked as if she feared he might snatch it away from her.

Jeff looked up at TJ while the girl ripped open the pitiful offering. “We have to get her out of here. Someone left this poor kid alone with no food and the door unlocked, for God’s sake!” His face was stiff with anger.

“Seen worse in my time.”

“Call Lisa. She’ll know what to do about her.”

TJ’s sympathy for the girl conflicted with her annoyance at having yet another distraction. “Go out and tell the guard what’s going on. Don’t want to have a problem if Raoul shows up. The bastard.” She sat next to the girl, wondering what to do next. She knew they couldn’t call Lisa. Lisa’s answer would have to follow procedure. And at midnight on a weekend before a holiday, TJ knew what would happen to the kid if they had to do things by the book.

Jeff came back in with Robo, aka Chad, in tow and asked, “What did Lisa say?”

TJ diverted the question. “Tell you about it later. We gotta get her out before Raoul shines around.”

The girl still wasn’t talking but had eaten the granola bar in record time. She stared at Jeff, silently asking for more food. He explained to her they had to leave and they would like it if she would come with them. He promised to get her something to eat, offering her his hand. The girl stayed put, burrowing further into the sofa.

TJ bent down to the girl’s level and whispered in her ear. Her eyes widened. She followed TJ, hand-in-hand, out to the car. Chad got behind the wheel. “I saw some activity down the block. We need to put some distance between us and this dump.”

TJ and Jeff got in the back with the girl. The car moved quickly from the curb.

TJ leaned over to Chad, “Take us to 27th and National.”

On the corner of 27th sat a brightly lit McDonald’s. TJ saw Jeff grin as he figured out what TJ had whispered in the kid’s ear.

“Pull in the drive-thru,” said TJ. “I’m cravin’ a Big Mac.”

They ordered food—Big Macs and sodas for the adults, and a cheeseburger, French fries and chocolate shake for the girl. TJ hoped the kid wouldn’t puke after eating all the greasy food. They drove away, the girl eager for the food TJ handed her. The fries went first. She’d eaten nearly half of it all before she fell asleep, the milkshake still clutched in her hands.