Trespass (23 page)

Chapter 52

I
visited Carter in the hospital and again listened to his plea to get back together. Even if I was inclined to pursue that possibility, his nearly full-time residence in Singapore would have squelched it. I had already told him I had no desire to leave America for any reason other than a vacation and it wouldn’t be fair to explore a relationship. But I always had a difficult time saying no to Carter, and today was no exception. I left when they brought in his lunch, scolding myself that I hadn’t been more direct.

I felt pulled in two directions with Taylor and Carter, although it was unlikely I would follow either path. I hadn’t decided what to do about Taylor. I didn’t share TJ’s opinion that he was obsessed with me rather than genuinely in love, but I still had the same issue with our relationship that I had all those years ago. If we did get together, sooner or later he would feel guilty about leaving his family. I’d be to blame, and he would eventually resent me. Nothing could change that.

So far I had no luck tracking down the price Taylor paid for the ruby ring, but I planned to call the jeweler later today. I was going to mention my father’s name to get me through and hope he had heard of him. If he had, then I could use that to get him to tell me how much Taylor paid for the ring. It felt like a family heirloom now and would be hard for me to give up. Reimbursing Taylor what he paid for it seemed like an excellent option. At least it did today.

When I arrived at my house the painters were still there, busy returning the living room and dining room to their original off-white shade. The cleaners had removed as much of the blood from room as they possibly could once the house had been released as a crime scene. The new security system had finally been installed, and I had an appointment with the engineer to learn how to use it.

As I opened the door for the security engineer when he arrived, I noticed Lucian out in his yard, feigning interest in a tree that was situated closest to my back door. Could he be trying to overhear my security code? Maybe it was only my paranoia making me think he was trying to eavesdrop.

I quickly steered the man from the security company into the house, away from Lucian’s prying eyes. The installer left after I had absorbed all that I could and handed me his card if I had any questions later. The painters were finished, and I found myself alone in the house. I couldn’t wait to give my notice at the hotel and move back in, even though mental visions of the attack on Carter and me permeated the house along with the paint fumes.

I didn’t want to bother Jon Engel again. I would take as many trips as I had to in order to get moved back. It seemed unfair to expect him to keep helping me out if I wasn’t interested in him as anything but a friend. Not that he ever acted like he was coming on to me. Were there actually men who enjoyed a woman’s company with no hidden motives? Other than Norman, I hadn’t come across any. I enjoyed Jon’s company, though, and intended to keep my promise to buy him dinner sometime soon.

I drove back to the hotel and saw heavy storm clouds had begun to fill the early fall sky; this had to be one of the wettest fall seasons in years. When I reached the door to my suite, my head still filled with thoughts of Norman and the looming weather, I almost didn’t notice the patch of white on the carpet just inside my door. It was a small white envelope with my name on the front, and someone had evidently shoved it under my door while I was gone.

The message inside, written in a large parochial cursive, said:

“If you want to know what happened to Norman Teschler, meet me tonight at eleven. I’ll be waiting for you in the Pewter Mug. Come alone.”

The note bore no signature.

Ignoring Clyde’s hallelujahs, which had become his version of welcome home, I quickly poured myself a glass of wine. I knew I should call TJ about the note, but for some reason, this felt personal. I needed to deal with it on my own. Whoever left the note had somehow found out my room number. TJ and Jon Engel were the only ones I had given it to, and I knew neither of them would have shared it with anyone. I imagined that a resourceful person wouldn’t have too difficult a time finding it.

I couldn’t help but wonder at the choice of meeting places. Who knew I had been at the Pewter Mug, or that I even knew it existed? Taylor came to mind first, but I knew he wouldn’t do something this cruel. But there was a connection between him and Norman; Norman knew Taylor and his father. I put it out of my mind, as if even thinking his name in the same internal thought with Norman meant I considered him suspect in what happened to my friend.

My stomach filled with acid at the thought of Taylor being involved in Norman’s murder. Could Taylor be so obsessed with me that he would get rid of Norman in order to make me vulnerable, sway me to his way of seeing things? I couldn’t imagine it, not after all the time that had passed since Taylor and I parted ways. There were the other attacks to consider, and Taylor had no connection to them.

My thoughts shifted to the attack on Carter. Taylor would have expected Carter to come back to the States after Norman died since Carter directed the agency and was a major stockholder in the business. Could he have seen Carter as a threat? Carter
had
stayed at my house that night. If Taylor’s PI had been on the job, he could have passed on that information.

My head was spinning; I needed do something active. I brought up a cart from the lobby, loaded it with as much as I could pile onto it, then stuffed it all into my car. This trip, the car was filled with my work things and the bulk of the clothes I brought with me from home. Next trip, I would round up everything else and all Clyde’s paraphernalia. The security system was in; there was no reason to stay in the hotel another night.

When I returned to the hotel, I stopped in the restaurant and ordered a plate of food to take upstairs. I would eat and then pack up the rest of my things. No way would I let a cryptic note lure me to the Pewter Mug. The note had specifically asked to meet there. I recalled that the reason I suggested meeting Taylor there was because of a flyer I had received. I quickly rose to see if I still had it and found it tucked into a telephone book. The flyer had no postmark, but had been in with the rest of my mail. If it hadn’t been mailed, then it had to have been dropped off at the desk for me. If so, tonight wasn’t the first time someone had wanted to see me at that particular place. But thinking about it a little more, it was possible the hotel had some kind of reciprocal arrangement with the restaurant and gave out their flyers to all the hotel guests.

With a call to the front desk, I discovered that one of the day shift desk clerks handled all mail and deliveries. They told me the hotel did not pass out any advertising to their guests.

If the first flyer had been hand-delivered, it most likely would have been added to the mail I was having transferred to the hotel during my stay. Interesting. Had the note writer sent that flyer?

I made the last trip home with Clyde, got him situated, and took a warm shower. Even with the heavy odor of paint, it was good to be home. I started to get ready for bed when I felt a sudden temptation to go to the Pewter Mug and find out what it was that someone wanted to tell me. I knew I should consult TJ before I left home, but it hardly seemed dangerous since it was a public place.

Still, why the secrecy?

Chapter 53

T
J spent the morning bringing their things back home from Richard’s apartment. When she finished, she checked in with Tasha Wade.

The detective answered quickly. In response to TJ’s immediate question of whether she was alone, she answered, “I’m on my own today. Brian has the flu. It must be really bad. I don’t remember him ever taking a sick day.”

“How come you’re not with the rest of the team workin’ the case?”

“Got the coffee on?” Tasha asked. When TJ said she did, Tasha told her she would stop over on her way to the station.

When Tasha arrived, TJ had mugs set out next to a plate of chocolate cookies she had just baked. JR was in a playpen next to the kitchen table, happily surrounded by a circle of his favorite toys, a cookie in his hand, with crumbs scattered around him on the floor of the pen.

Tasha took a minute to talk to him, laughing when he grabbed for her badge. “Most people don’t use playpens these days. They think it inhibits kids’ discovery of the world or some garbage like that.”

“I’d never get anything done if I didn’t use it once in a while. That letting-the-kid-roam-free shit might work for moms who are home twenty-four seven, but if you got a job? Impossible.”

Tasha agreed and sat across from TJ, who poured coffee from a carafe and offered the cookies. “Really appreciate you comin’ over again. I was gonna go over what to do next, and I hate to spin my wheels. Comparing notes with you really helps.”

“You can’t tell anybody about our meetings, you know. Especially your detective boyfriend,” Tasha warned.

“That goes without sayin’. I can usually get what I need from him, only this is a lot easier and won’t make me owe him anything.”

“Yeah, it’s tough to be beholden,” Tasha said, grinning. “You asked about the team working this. It’s headed by a guy named Lukaszewski. He’s a real jerk, one of those cops who thinks he knows it all and thinks the rest of us are just peons who are there to help him out. He’s been on another case for a few days, one that’ll make him look like a big shot.”

“I met a few like that in my day.”

“Haymaker and I work well together because we’re both outcasts in a way. Me, because I’m a woman, and a black one at that, and Brian because he’s new and comes from a small town. I know you two don’t hit it off, but he’s a good guy and a bright detective. I only made detective about ten months ago and he’s helped me a lot.

“Anyway, Lukaszewski and his crew went back to the beginning and questioned some of the high school kids again. They think creeping has to be at the root of everything. Brian and I agree with that to a degree, but Lukaszewski is convinced Teschler’s not related to the other crimes, and he believes the Krauses’ alibis. They do have them, but you know how that goes; their alibis aren’t exactly cast in stone.”

“How about the folks from the swingers’ group? Did you alibi all of them?”

This information could save TJ a lot of work if the detective was willing to share.

“Yeah. Donald Braun’s cleared, and so are Sam Diermeyer and Barbara Krause. Anna Krause was working on the nights in question. I don’t know if they’ve talked to any of the swingers’ kids.”

TJ let it all sink in for a minute while she checked on JR, who reached out for another cookie. They were small, so she handed him one more. “I’m likin’ Kane Diermeyer or Martin Krause for bein’ the one pullin’ the strings. Martin Krause has a young peoples’ support group for that church they all belong to, and Kane teaches music. Drucilla has ties to both of them. She’s in the church group and takes music lessons from Kane. If she an’ her brother are doin’ the nasty, then wouldn’t they be weird enough to take another person with them and do it in houses?”

Tasha added coffee to her mug, nodding agreement. “What if this leader wasn’t always just pulling strings? Maybe he started doing the trespassing with the other two and only quit when a third person joined in.”

“Possible, but doesn’t change anything.”

“I’m with you on this mastermind theory, but I think it’ll save a lot of time if we nail the doers first. That’s how we’ll get him—when a follower gives him up,” Tasha said.

“I was thinkin’ that, too. We need to get enough on the Krause kids to support a search warrant for their house.”

“I won’t be able to get a warrant on my own, even if we can get more evidence. I’ll have to wait until Brian comes back because Lukaszewski won’t listen to me.” She sighed at TJ’s disapproving look and grabbed another cookie. “Guess I have to grow a pair, right? I’ll talk to Lukaszewski.”

“Good. I’ll see if I can get you more proof. I can do things you guys can’t.” She picked up a sandwich bag, filled it with cookies, and handed it to Tasha when she stood to leave.

“For the road.”

TJ, once more using her sister’s nondescript car, drove past the Krause’s place looking for either of the sibs. The two Krause cars were registered to Anna Krause. She had seen Lucian and Drucilla both use one of the cars, an old Ford sedan. Their mother drove an even older Buick. The garage door was open, and the Ford sat in the driveway.

She noticed Lucian across the street, mowing the lawn in Rosemary Haynes’s yard. Haynes had probably called him to come over and get it done before it rained. The forecast predicted they were in for yet another stormy night.

As usual, Lucian wore an old gray hoodie that served to cover his freakish face. He paused to drink from a bottle of water he pulled from a pocket of his hoodie. The bottle would make an excellent source of DNA. The trick would be finding where he deposited the empty bottle and then whether it would be possible to snatch it.

It looked like Lucian had just begun his task, so TJ decided to swing past again later. When she arrived at the church, there were only two cars in the lot. Were they about to close for the day? She parked on a side street and walked to the entrance. The cars looked like the same two she had seen on her last visit, which meant Martin Krause was there. She could hardly ask him for an alibi but if she asked the right questions it could serve the same purpose.

Irene Abendoth sat vigil at the front desk.

She said, “I didn’t expect to see you again. I’ve told you everything I know.”

TJ doubted that. “I didn’t come here to see you, Irene. Is Martin around?”

“He’s in the pastor’s office.” She rose from her chair. “I’ll get him for you.”

TJ watched as she went down a narrow hallway, surprised that Abendoth had agreed to find Martin so quickly. Probably thought that got her off the hook. When she came back, she gestured for TJ to go to the office to meet Krause.

She followed the hallway to the only open office, where Martin Krause sat behind an old mahogany desk that had been polished to a bright sheen. The office was simply decorated. The only color that relieved the neutral décor was a portrait of Jesus, his hair in long, flowing tresses, his face beatific, his gaze to the heavens.

TJ entered the room and sat in a chair in front of the desk.

“Pastor not back from vacation yet?” she asked.

“What brings you here again, Ms. Peacock?” Martin Krause sat back with his fingers tented in front of him, apparently not rattled by her visit. “I’m still acting pastor,” he said with no further explanation.

She wanted him off his game. “Thought you’d like to know what I saw the other night.”

“All right, I’ll bite. What did you see that made you feel you had to come here and tell me about it?”

“Came across a cemetery way out in the sticks. It was kinda’ hidden in a big stand of pine trees.”

“And this would interest me, because. . .?”

Krause would make a skilled poker player. Nothing about his body language or expression revealed any knowledge of the cemetery where she had seen Drucilla Krause the night she followed her. As assistant pastor, Martin would be privy to everything the church did and had to know about it. TJ wasn’t sure what it was about the cemetery, but something wasn’t kosher. She wished she had taken time to talk to Richard’s contact.

“Struck me that cemetery had to be hidden away for a reason. One of your flock was visiting there late at night. I haven’t got around to calling the County yet,” she said, hoping that would be the place governing the operation of cemeteries.

Martin Krause lowered his hands to the arms of his chair. She struck a soft spot. “Go ahead. Call them. We have nothing to hide.”

Sure as shit, they did have somethin’ to hide.
He would have lost the poker game at this point. Krause’s words of denial, obvious lies, convinced TJ the cemetery did belong to The New Followers of Christ. His tense body language now opposed his words; the last thing he wanted was to have TJ call the County. What else was he covering up? She had to keep at him while she had him on the ropes.

“You know, some folks are sayin’ these murders here in Tosa all have somethin’ to do with a swingers’ club from sixteen years ago. You know, the one your parents belonged to before your father and Lillian Diermeyer committed suicide?”

“I don’t have to listen to your insinuations.” Krause stood quickly and ushered TJ out the door and down the hallway to the entrance. “And don’t come back,” he added as he opened the door.

She went back to the car and opened her phone, intending to call Richard. He hadn’t complained about her going out again tonight, but she had sensed his disapproval. TJ wondered for at least the hundredth time how she would ever be able to juggle being a good mom with being a good investigator, and doing the kind of work she wanted to do. It shouldn’t be impossible. Other women managed to have careers but they had normal nine to five jobs. Maybe she and Richard should get married. It would certainly give JR more stability.

While TJ pondered her situation she noticed Martin leave the building followed by Abendoth, who locked the door behind them. She wondered if a look through the Church’s premises would be helpful. She could get in easily enough if she needed to. The locks hadn’t looked too complicated.

Martin Krause drove east toward the city. It was nearly dark, and although it hadn’t rained yet, the air was heavy with ozone. Torn between driving back to find Lucian’s water bottle and following Martin, TJ opted to follow Martin. Then as his route continued eastward, away from the cemetery, she decided the better plan would be to check out his house while he was gone. She turned the car around.