Trespass (26 page)

Chapter 60

W
hen TJ arrived at Froedtert Hospital the next day, the nurses gave her directions to Tasha’s room. The door, guarded by a uniform from Tosa, was closed. After showing him her license and waiting while he called Haymaker to verify who she was, she went into the room. Clutching a TV remote, Tasha’s eyes were fixed on a set mounted high on the opposite wall. Channels flew past.

“Find yourself on there yet?” TJ asked, but doubted the attack at the hospital would have made the news this soon.

“Did they get her?”

“The one who knifed you?”

She grimaced. “Who else?”

“Not yet. Drucilla’s probably the one you ran into. Did you get a look at her face?”

“No. The room was dark and it all happened too fast. Damn, I really screwed up.”

“Don’t blame yourself. They should have had a uniform at Jackson’s door.”

“I have big news,” Tasha said.

“About what?”

“I just got a call. One of the techs at the state lab got creative and developed a print he pulled off Sondra Jackson’s shoulder.”

TJ was impressed. One of three state labs, Milwaukee was as swamped as the others and seldom had time to do anything but the basics except in high-profile cases. Getting a decent print from skin was tricky. “Don’t make me guess, spill it.”

“You were right about the Krause kids. One of them, anyway. The print on Sondra Jackson was Drucilla’s. She was printed last summer when she had a part-time job with the park service.”

So Drucilla had been part of the orgy with Sondra Jackson the night she was murdered. Gemma may have been right about Drucilla and Lucian, but TJ couldn’t rely on her strange revelation. They would have to connect Lucian with the crimes some other way. “Gonna bring her in?”

“I have to call Lukaszewski first. Brian found out he has pneumonia, and he was told to take more sick days. I’m kind of hanging out here on my own with this.”

“Guess the question is, round them up or try to catch them doin’ something illegal? One fingerprint won’t be enough to nail the sick fucks,” TJ said.

Tasha hesitated. “I don’t know, TJ. I can’t sit on this very long.”

“I’ll keep an eye on them tonight. We gotta hope they screw up while we’re watchin’.”

Chapter 61

A
t ten that night, TJ decided to risk checking the Krauses’s garage to see if the sibs were at home. No use staking out the place if they were already gone for the night. Entering from around the back like she had before, she crept through Gemma’s yard and squeezed through the nearly bare-of-leaves lilac bushes to peer into the garage’s side window.

The garage was empty. She had to check the house or there would be no way of knowing whether one of the kids was still there. She had better things to do if they were both out. Luckily, it was a dark night. She rushed to the side of the house and flattened herself under the kitchen window. It was too high to see in. She edged up the small back porch to look inside the door’s window and saw a small light on over the sink. She could see into part of the living room where a TV played, but she had a feeling no one was watching it.

The door opened in her hand when she tried it. She debated whether to go in, but all she needed was to find out if Lucian or Drucilla was there. It would be a challenge to sneak in without being heard, but she could always run out if she had to. After a stealthy trip through the house, she determined no one was there. Not good. That meant they had left the TV on deliberately in an effort to keep their whereabouts unknown or had taken off in such a rush that they had forgotten.

Were they going after someone? Braun, as far as she knew, was still in Manitowish Waters trying to locate his wife, the missing Victoria. They would never get to Jackson; he had a guard at the door who checked everyone who entered, including any hospital personnel. When she got back to the kitchen to leave the house, she saw headlights turn into the driveway. At least one of the Krauses had returned. TJ ran back to the living room to escape through the front door. When she got there, she noticed a shadow outside it, visible through three small oblong windows high on the door. Had they suspected someone was inside? TJ squeezed between the sofa and the wall, hoping if the figure she had seen came into the room she could sneak behind him and run out the front door.

Suddenly the TV went off, leaving the room in darkness. TJ peeked out from behind the sofa. Two shapes wearing dark clothes and masks loomed above her.

Chapter 62

A
fter leaving Lisa’s office, I returned home. It was a lovely autumn day for a change, the sun brightening the neighborhood that had appeared dark and sinister a day ago. I spent the rest of the day getting my house in order, and had even taken a trip to a furniture store in the village and ordered a new sofa. After a stop at the grocery store, I made myself a home-cooked meal of chicken and pasta and then spent the evening relaxing with a good book and a bubble bath.

Clyde, happy to be back in his favorite spot at the side of the kitchen, recited his entire repertoire of prayers, biblical quotes, and the few new words I had taught him. I’d just sat down next to him after my bath when my phone chimed. I checked the screen, but didn’t recognize the name of the caller.

“Ms. Rosenthal?” The voice sounded young.

“Yes.”

“This is Michael Branowicz. You called me about Norman Teschler’s computer?”

I had forgotten about Norman’s home computer since searching the one from his office. “Yes, I remember. We talked a while back, and you said you didn’t know any details about the book he was writing.”

“Right, I didn’t. But I came across something I thought you’d want. I knew he was working on a book, so I started checking out the online sites for authors. I found one for writers looking for critiques of their work. He had a few chapters from the book posted on it and also a one-page synopsis. The book wasn’t a true story, he said, but was based on something that had happened where he lived.”

I knew this would be the key to what had happened to Norman. Michael gave me the name of the site and how to gain access to the information. I logged on to the site and became a member so I could read Norman’s work. Michael had given me Norman’s username, so it didn’t take long to find his chapters.

His writing was impressive and his characters compelling. I realized quickly that the chapters he submitted here weren’t in sequence. I brought up his author profile where he had posted the synopsis for the book, titled
Thy Neighbor’s Wife
. Everything made sense after I read it. Norman’s book was based on what had happened with the swingers’ group sixteen years ago.

I was wrong about Norman being killed because he found out about Lucian and Drucilla’s sexual relationship; he’d been killed because someone didn’t want him publishing his book. I tried to call TJ, but her phone kept going directly to voice mail. It was after ten. She probably wouldn’t call me back until the next day. I tried again a half hour later, got no response, and then went to bed.

I’m in sleep paralysis once more and I find myself in a dark room. My unconscious has taken me to another place. As I lie on the floor in a corner, I can barely make out shapes. Then I notice a movement across the room. Someone darts behind the couch and crouches down, the shape familiar. It’s TJ. I become aware of the room and realize I’ve traveled to the Krauses’ living room again. Why is TJ here? I see two masked figures enter the room and face the couch. TJ is in danger.

I have to wake up.

Chapter 63

T
he masked figures came closer. TJ could see the outline of a gun in the hand of one of them. This was new; a knife had been their weapon of choice. She pulled out her gun.

“You can come out from behind the couch, Peacock. We know you’re there.”

Shit. The damn gun changed everything. If these two were who she thought they were, they were frickin’ teenagers, for God’s sake. She could have taken them easily without the gun. TJ edged out from behind the couch, trying to think of a way to control the situation.

“Drop your gun on the floor.”

She stood and dropped her gun as ordered. The voice, familiar now, sounded like Lucian Krause. The height was about right. What she couldn’t figure out was what they thought they would accomplish by getting rid of her. The cops would be moving in on them as soon as they wised up, which hopefully, shouldn’t be long now.

Lucian muttered something to his masked accomplice who TJ had determined was a woman by the shape of her body below the mask. Not Drucilla, though. She was too short. In a voice that sounded young and uncertain of what she was doing, she came over to TJ and told her to put her hands behind her back. She grabbed TJ’s wrists, and when TJ felt her fumbling to put tape around them, she struck. In one rapid move, she grabbed the girl and twisted her around, her arm up behind her back, her body protecting TJ like a shield.

“Shoot me now, you kill your little friend here,” she warned.

Lucian didn’t drop the gun. “Let her go.”

“Why would I do that, Lucian?”

With his affliction, he would be comfortable behind a mask, a mask that made it impossible to gauge if he was surprised that she knew who he was.

“Maybe I don’t give a damn about her,” he said.

TJ didn’t doubt it. Loyalty among thieves was one thing, but among murderers? Unlikely. She wouldn’t put it past this freak not to put a bullet through both of them. At least if the worst happened, she’d had the foresight to lock the purloined diary in the trunk of her car.

Out of nowhere, a figure carrying a gun appeared behind Lucian, the gun pointed at his head. Covered now by the gunman, TJ shoved the girl into Lucian hard enough to topple him. His gun spiraled to the floor.

“Don’t move, you freak,” TJ shouted and leapt for the guns. She landed on top of Lucian’s. Gun confiscated, she rolled over in time to see Lucian coming at her with a knife in his hand. The person behind him with the gun kept it trained on him.

“Drop it!” TJ yelled. “We have you covered.” But Lucian kept moving closer. A shot rang out and the knife flew out of Lucian’s hand as the force of the bullet dropped him to knees. His partner edged toward the door. TJ grabbed her.

“TJ, are you all right?”

The voice, familiar, was Gemma’s. “Yeah. What are you doing here?”

Gemma stood frozen in place, her gun still pointed at Lucian who lay on the floor, blood oozing from a wound in his arm. “I knew you needed help.”

Before TJ could ask for an explanation, she saw headlights moving into the driveway. Heavy footsteps pounded into the house as the lights burst on.

“In here,” TJ called, praying it was the police coming in. Gemma relaxed, her arm dropping to her side. She picked up her gun and put it back in her pocket.

Lucian’s friend tried again to make a break for the front door. These two had a frickin’ death wish. TJ grabbed her by her long hair and taped her wrists with the same tape the girl had tried to put on her. She was about to ask Gemma how she had managed to come to her rescue, when two detectives stepped into the room. TJ recognized one of them as the dreaded Lukaszewski; Gemma must have called 9-1-1 before she came over here. They took over with Lucian, tying off his arm before cuffing him. TJ pulled off his cohort’s mask. Crap, the girl was barely a teenager. It was the chick from behind the counter in the music store. TJ didn’t even remember her name.

After Gemma explained to the detectives she had just happened to notice TJ go into the Krauses’ house and then saw the sibs go in after her wearing masks, the detectives verified her gun registry, confiscated it for evidence, and took her statement. Before dismissing her from the scene, they told her she’d have to come to the station the next day for a formal statement. TJ’s presence took a little more explaining, and she was taken to the station for questioning.

Too wired to go home when they finished with her, TJ went to the hospital to tell Tasha what had gone down.

“Are they questioning them now?” Tasha asked.

“Nah, not yet. Lucian’s getting his arm fixed first. He’s down in the ER. Then they’ll bring him in. Mama Krause is hanging around, pitching a fit and threatening to call their lawyer, but I haven’t seen a mouthpiece yet. The girl ain’t sayin’ much. She’s kinda in shock, I guess. I don’t think she’ll be hard to crack if Lucian won’t talk.”

Tasha’s mouth turned down at the corners. “I need to be there. Would you go tell the nurses I need my clothes?”

TJ sympathized with the detective, but she had seen Tasha’s interview style and believed even Lukaszewski could get more out of the kid. “Can’t just leave. They gotta release you first. Have your husband bring you fresh clothes. Yours will be in evidence, don’t forget.”

“Where do you think Drucilla is?” Tasha asked.

“Not a clue,” TJ answered. The Tosa police would be looking for her.

In all the excitement at the Krause’s place, TJ hadn’t thought about Drucilla’s whereabouts. Would she run or would she still be looking for unfinished business?

The third creeper had turned out to be the girl from the music store, which could implicate Kane Diermeyer. She would have to find out if Tabitha was also in Martin’s youth group. But Drucilla spent a lot of her spare time working with Martin at the church. Would she turn to him now? Craig Jackson would have been Drucilla’s primary target, but she would never be able to get at him. The hospital staff had moved him to another wing and there were guards inside and outside his room. No one went in or out without his doctor’s approval or visited without supervision.

TJ promised to keep Tasha updated on the case and left the room. It wouldn’t hurt to take a drive past Martin Krause’s house again.

TJ left the hospital and drove to Martin Krause’s place, ignoring the little voice that told her she should be letting the cops do their job now. The house, with all the windows dark, looked much like it had the last time she was here but without the threat of a storm. Krause’s car sat in the driveway. She tried the bell, could hear it chiming inside the house, but Krause didn’t come to the door. When she knocked the door moved under her knuckles.

Deciding to play it safe, she made a call to Lukaszewski. He told her not to go in the house, and said he would be right over. TJ waited impatiently on the front porch. He had told her not to go in but hadn’t said she shouldn’t look around. She circled the house, peered in windows, and checked the other two entrances. The back door and the cellar door she had found open on her previous visit were locked.

It occurred to her this would be an ideal time to replace the diary she removed from Martin’s closet. She figured she had at least ten minutes before the Tosa police arrived.

Gun in hand, she snuck into the house with the diary.

The house, as on her last visit, had everything in order. It wasn’t until she reached Martin’s bedroom that she discovered something out of place. Martin Krause lay on the bedroom floor in a pool of blood, his right hand reaching toward a small handgun located about two feet from his body. The blood, beginning to darken at the edges, revealed Martin had been in place for at least a few hours. About five feet from his body lay Drucilla Krause, who appeared to have met the same fate as Martin.

The room was in shambles: furniture was upended, books were lying on the floor, and lamps were overturned. This wasn’t a dual suicide; Martin and Drucilla had battled it out to the last breath. The evidence techs would have to unravel what happened here tonight. TJ could only guess.

TJ made another call to Tosa, informing them what had happened, then figured she only had a few minutes left before anyone arrived.

She didn’t dare cross the room to return the diary and backed out of the bedroom. The rest of the house looked like nothing had been disturbed. The bodies stood out like a tableau of bloody madness, and she thought of Lucian. She didn’t think the time frame would have allowed him to be here to perform this killing and then be back at his house when he and Tabitha had confronted her there. Otherwise, he could have shot Martin and Drucilla with his newly acquired gun.

The first sirens sounded and were drawing nearer. Her heart raced when she heard a car door slam in the driveway; Lukaszewski had gotten here sooner than she had expected. With the diary inside her jacket burning against her chest, TJ went out to meet him. She would finish reading the diary and worry about the consequences later.

Once the Tosa police and crime scene employees descended on the scene, TJ became an unnecessary cog in the machinery of the investigation. She left as soon as she could. The diary likely had nothing to do with the murders, TJ kept telling herself. She wished she had managed to stay awake the night before to read the entire thing instead of just the first few chapters. The small missal might at least tell them more about the suicides of Lilly Diermeyer and Arthur Krause and possibly reveal what had spiked old emotions surrounding a sixteen-year-old incident.

There was more than enough evidence now to put the perpetrators behind bars for a long time. Any revelations in the diary could only serve to explain what had accelerated their actions.

Maybe she would go to the Tosa station later, but she knew her presence wouldn’t be welcome. Her appearance there might only aggravate Lukaszewski and make it less likely he would tell her what transpired when they questioned Lucian.

Questioning the bastard should have been TJ’s job. In her mind, anyway. When she was a cop, she had been damn good at interrogation. Everyone had expected TJ would stay on the fast track to becoming a detective, but circumstances had changed that direction for her. Not that she couldn’t still go back to life as a cop—leaving the force had been her choice. This case had shown her where her heart remained, in investigatory work. Maybe Richard was right. She should invite Donna to live with them. These last few weeks had been hard on JR, and as much as he loved staying at Janeen’s and playing with all the kids, he was starting to cling to her when she dropped him off. Decisions. TJ hated them.