Crushed

by Kate Watterson

  She’d just have to worry later about all that upcoming upheaval in her career. Santiago said, “Maybe he’ll figure it out, but maybe he’ll slip up. Once the sweep is done, we’ll have a better handle on it.”

  She wasn’t quite as confident. “How did he not trip the security system?”

  With narrowed eyes, Santiago replied, “I’ve been thinking about that. Who installed it? Male technician, tall and with brown hair?”

  That had crossed her mind as well. “I have no idea. It was there already when I rented the condo. I just made a phone call to change the code and went to the office and signed a different agreement. It’s worth looking into, except I assume any of the technicians handling those systems could disable it and then turn it back on.”

  “The same five-state dilemma again. It’s so broad. I assume the company screens carefully: Are you a serial killer/stalker? It could be part of the background check, but for some reason, I doubt they ask it.”

  She chose to ignore the sarcasm, which was the best way to handle him. They were both under pressure and more than a little stressed. “It can’t hurt to look into it. We know this can be hit and miss.”

  “We’ve been missing a lot. He hasn’t. He’s cautious. He’s careful, but I still swear he’ll trip up.”

  “So you keep saying, and your personal foibles aside, I think you’re a decent detective, so I’m willing to believe. However, I want us to be the bump in his road.” She was starting to rally a little, trying to get her anxiety under control. Between Grasso and the overt threat to her family, not to mention the damn picture, this really was getting to her.

  “Foibles? Like what?” Jason demanded, but she knew he was doing his best to lighten the mood. “And just decent? I’m getting kind of insulted here.”

  She tried too and waved a hand. “We don’t have time to go into that extensive foible list. Can we stay on topic, please?”

  “Well yeah, that list might take up the next decade or so.” He grinned, but it faded fast. “It wouldn’t be the first asshole we’ve invited to run over us. Ellie, why don’t you come to bed? It’s getting late. I’m not suggesting anything other than sleep, if you can believe that. I’m having a hard time wrapping my mind around it. You have to be at least as tired as I am. Maybe twice as much. And I’m tired.”

  She was tired, but she was also wound up. “I just talked to him on the phone.”

  “You need all the pistons firing if we are going to get him. Take it from someone who rarely indulges in it, sleep is pretty fantastic to help clear your head.”

  It was probably good advice. She switched off the lamp. True to his word, when she lay down next to him, he didn’t move to touch her. She said, “I’m really thinking about this. Despite his best efforts, I think I recognized his voice. I just can’t place it. Maybe if I just stare at the ceiling long enough it will come to me. I’m searching for it and I have to figure it out. It feels like I’m playing a game and I know the answer, but it isn’t right there on the tip of my tongue.”

  “Been there and done that.” Santiago did turn so he faced her. “If I think about something else, it usually comes to me.”

  That wasn’t bad advice.

  “How did he know we were gone? That is really bothering me. He just asked if I was ‘up north.’”

  “I know you don’t want to hear this, but maybe he has your place wired for more than just a camera and overheard or recorded something. Not to mention it would make sense to me if I was examining your life with a microscope that you’d go there.”

  He was right, because she didn’t want to hear that at all. He was also right because she was bone tired and maybe could drift off.

  * * *

  Jason had a bagel for breakfast and watched the sun come up. He’d brought up some orange juice and a croissant for Ellie, but she was still sleeping, and he figured she needed it.

  He would send Grasso a message about the phone call, but he figured the man was probably strung out on pain meds and it was still pretty early.

  So he sat and thought it all over.

  The murders linked now to the school, the phone calls, the obvious obsession …

  It first came to him as just a random thought. A glimmer of light like the glow on the horizon dawned on him as he sipped a cup of coffee from the lobby and reviewed the facts and wondered if he’d made a connection.

  About time.

  He went down and got a second cup of coffee and thought about it some more when he got back to the room. It made sense. Maybe it made too much sense.

  He waited until Ellie stirred and rolled over and he thought she looked more than delicious in just his shirt as she got out of bed, but that was beside the point. He offered, “I can go get you coffee or there’s orange juice. Jody sent me a text since you didn’t answer her. They’re fine.”

  Ellie hugged him. “Thank God. That’s how I want to start my day. I gave her your number awhile ago in case she couldn’t reach me. She asked for it. I hope you don’t mind.”

  She could probably walk on him in stiletto heels and he wouldn’t mind. “Nope.”

  “Orange juice is fine. I usually want coffee, but I really slept.”

  She went into the bathroom and he got the orange juice from the minifridge and steadied himself for this conversation. Maybe he was out of his mind, but maybe he wasn’t.

  No, he wasn’t. He was sure of it, but then Ellie was better at this part than he was, and they had different angles at how they approached an investigation.

  He let her eat half her croissant before he said, “I think we might have a viable suspect.”

  “What? Like with a name?” She stared at him, poised to take another bite.

  “I don’t know. You tell me. I’ve been awake all night. I want you to look at your messages.” He didn’t mention how much he’d wanted to wake her up, but held back, sorting it all out.

  She did and scanned the list. “Oh shit!”

  Girl after his own heart. “Nichols? That’s the high school he teaches at? Fairmont?” She didn’t need all night. She sat there, just staring at the faculty list he’d brought up and texted to her. “He fits the physical profile. No wonder he flies under the radar of the surveillance team. He lives next door to me and has every reason to be right there.”

  “My thinking too. I’m not quite as quick as you. I thought we could use him, see if anyone on the teaching staff came to his mind as someone who ran and might fit the description, but I realized that he can watch you and no one would notice. There’s also that he doesn’t like me.”

  “Irrefutable proof right there.” She kept scrolling through the list, the orange juice forgotten.

  He ignored the derision. “I’m pretty serious here. Guys can tell, and he’s polite and all, but he has to work at it.”

  “I am going mention now that when I first met you I didn’t like you either.” Her brows went up. “No wonder he speaks in that voice that makes me want to go hide in a closet. I do know him.”

  “He sent that picture because he’s jealous. I bet if we look he cut a hole in your attics that share a wall and put in that camera, so no, he didn’t set off the alarm system, and the most damning is that when I was standing outside waiting for you to come out, I asked him to watch out for anyone nearby your condo but said there were going to be officers in the area. That’s how he knew. I also think we both remember him in person delivering those flowers. I bet he got a special thrill out of that one, being able to hand them straight to you. Ellie, he fits the description.”

  Her eyes were shadowed. “He’s married and has two kids.”

  “When did you become so naive? He seems nice. I looked him up online while you were asleep. He’s also the track coach at the high school. I bet he does a lot of jogging.”

  Young and personable plus the right build and coloring … he really did fit.

  “I’m blind or an idiot. If it wasn’t for Cindy’s shirt…” She rubbed her forehead. “Wait, he doesn’t
have an earring.”

  Jason had considered that too. “You don’t have to wear it all the time. If I was a teacher, I wouldn’t wear it to school. I had one for a while when I got out of the military, but when I applied to join the force, I took it out and just never really wore it again, but I could have off duty. I’ve literally been thinking this over all night.”

  “Why is it I’m not surprised? I can’t believe you don’t have a tattoo.” She started to pull on yesterday’s clothes.

  “I don’t like needles.” That was the truth. “I’m glad you’ve looked me over.”

  She said pragmatically, “Stop that. Surveillance isn’t going to do a thing to catch him, if Nichols is the one. He has every right to be there. What perfect cover. And if he is the ‘Observer,’ he has a chance to do it every single day. I wonder if he has a connection to Parkview. We can certainly check my attic, but think about it. If someone got into my neighbor’s house and went up there to cut a hole and put a camera in, a good lawyer could argue the point. I have no idea if they use their security system or not.”

  “Ellie, think about how many eyewitnesses we have.”

  “This is starting to come together.” Her blond hair brushed her shoulders as she shook her head. “He could easily also argue that he’s a track coach so he runs, and of course a park trail is a good place to do it. Even if someone identified him, it doesn’t constitute proof of anything. I would think it would support his defense. The bodies are found in parks and that’s where he runs. But we have the friend. I’m so glad we told her to go somewhere safe. Nichols is a married man. If he made that date, it’s another piece of evidence. It doesn’t make him a murderer, but it adds another layer to this. Let’s talk to her again.”

  Chapter 29

  Someone had gone through the pictures.

  They were out of their usual order. He kept them meticulously hidden and stacked in just a certain way.

  It wasn’t like he didn’t know who was responsible for the infringement on his privacy. If there had been a police search with a legal warrant, his wife would have called him hysterically over it, so he was still safe in that regard, but now she knew.

  He’d met her right after the drowning incident with that other girl when he was in college, and then they’d crossed paths again when they were both student teaching. His parents had liked her, which was a miracle, because as far as he could tell, his father didn’t really like him very much. So he’d married her.

  He’d settled for what he didn’t really want to please someone else, and he was tired of it.

  * * *

  It wasn’t familiar for a moment, and when Carl tried to roll over he realized he really couldn’t and didn’t at once know where he was exactly.

  Not his own bed, that was for sure.

  He was somewhat hazy on the details of coming to Georgia’s condo. He’d opted out on pain meds for his collarbone, but they’d definitely had to use some for the surgery on his arm. He felt like a beached whale trying to get out of bed. There was just no leverage and he made a note to himself never to take sitting up for granted again. Three attempts and a true groan of pain and he managed it.

  A look in the bathroom mirror didn’t help matters. He was bandaged and casted on one side, had a sling on the other arm, and in his opinion, maybe a little old for this kind of collateral damage. He was lucky in that the tip of the bat had caught his lower jaw but not broken it, but the bruise, he’d been told by a prosaic and weary emergency department physician, was going to be quite a sight to see.

  Spot on. The young doctor had known what he was talking about. Half of Carl’s face was purple, cheekbone all the way down to his throat, and not a light purple, but the kind on a Victorian settee cloaked in velvet in an old parlor. Shaving on that side was out of the question right now, and being only half shaven seemed ridiculous, so he decided just to forget it, even though he hadn’t skipped that since he was fifteen. He also had to sit down like a woman on the toilet to relieve himself, and just the simple act of using the lever to flush it made him break out in a sweat. Washing his hands was even worse.

  When he went out to the kitchen, Georgia looked up from the paper and got up quickly. “Good morning. This might not make you happy, but I ran to the corner and got you an iced coffee with a straw. I thought holding a mug might be a challenge.”

  That was thoughtful of her. “Splash some whiskey in it and I’ll drink sewer water. I hate those pain pills. Whiskey and I are old friends.”

  “You self-medicate too much.”

  “Absolutely. No argument here.”

  “Police officers. Aren’t they always supposed to be on the alert?”

  He gingerly took a stool and managed it pretty well. “Well, not always apparently, or did I imagine you there at the hospital after I wasn’t on the alert and I hadn’t had a drop but was looking forward to it.”

  “No, you didn’t imagine it.” She looked at him with real sympathy—to him anyway—in her beautiful eyes. “But I also heard from the medical staff it might have been a lot worse.”

  He didn’t disagree. “Whoever came after me wasn’t fooling around. He made sure I couldn’t draw my weapon.”

  “I hope you don’t mind, but I called a locksmith to go repair the side garage door at your house. He just called. Whoever it was used a drill on the lock. He said he’d drop off the keys to the new one at my office.”

  He grimaced as he noticed from a clock on the wall it was past eleven. “I’m sorry if you missed appointments for me.”

  “No, no problem, everyone rescheduled. People want to talk to me, but they don’t usually die if they can’t.” She made a face. “Not always true. No suicidal patients on for today. A man who believes his parents were foreign spies and three different patients battling marital problems that need to hash it out with someone who won’t condemn them if they decide to just stay or do the alternative, and one patient who is very afraid maybe he is gay but has yet to say it out loud. He and I aren’t working on his sexual orientation—I wouldn’t even pretend to be able to help him with that, he is who he is—but he needs to be able to say it to me first apparently before he tells his family. I’m the dry run. He’s probably relieved to put it off, so you did him a favor.”

  “I’ll tell him to inform the man with the bat he did a good deed then.”

  “The coffee?”

  “With whiskey, please. I’m not going to take more pills, and since I can’t even scratch my chin, it is clear I won’t be driving anywhere.”

  “You haven’t eaten anything.” She moved to the refrigerator.

  “I’ll have a piece of toast or something. I’m not sure I can chew anything else. I keep trying to decide what hurts the most, my face or my shoulder or my arm. Not complaining, just making an observation that there seems to be a hung jury on the winner.”

  “I’ll kiss you in effort to make it all better.”

  She set down the cup and fulfilled the promise, and if it wasn’t all better, it was certainly some better. He wasn’t used to sharing with anyone—not his personal space and not his feelings—and especially not used to being dependent like this. In the course of his career he’d never been really injured, and it was a good thing, since no one would have stepped into the breach.

  That was a wakeup call.

  “I’m going to have to owe Santiago for introducing me to you.” Carl said it and expelled a breath. “And I’ve never wanted to thank him for anything.”

  Georgia said, “Not true. I really think that if Chief Metzger of the Milwaukee Police Department didn’t think both Santiago and MacIntosh needed your level of experience to help them along, he would never have sent you back to homicide, where you’ve always belonged. Ellie is smart and intuitive, and Santiago could run with the bulls in a street in Spain. However, you balance them. He’s also always wanted you there.”

  She could be right. He was transferred to vice for a while after the Internal Affairs investigation couldn’t prove anyt
hing, but he’d known Metzger had done it because he felt like he had to send out a message to everyone.

  Carl smiled, which he learned hurt his face quite a lot. “Psych 101?”

  She smiled back. “I’m thinking at least a sophomore course. Give me some credit.”

  * * *

  The sharp knock on the condo door came when Ellie was changing. Even though she’d showered at the hotel, wearing the same clothes for two days made her feel like she’d pulled an all-nighter at the library studying for a college test. Those days were over, and she was happy to have left them behind.

  Jason was in her living room, so she’d just let him answer it, since it was probably the sweep team. She actually had chosen the walk-in closet to change, assuming whoever had done it with the camera just targeted the bedroom and wouldn’t film her picking out what she going to wear in the morning. She felt beyond outraged and vulnerable if she really thought about it, so she tried to ignore the thought and plucked a shirt at random off a hanger.

  “Ellie.”

  She was still slipping on her blouse when Jason came into the bedroom. She said hurriedly, “I know the sweep team is here. I’m going as fast as possible so we can get out of their way.”

  Santiago’s voice sounded not at all normal. “Um, no, not them. I checked and they’ll be here soon. But there is someone to see you and I can’t wait to hear this conversation.”

  That seemed like a strange thing for him to say coupled with the look on his face. She swiftly buttoned her blouse. “Who is it?”

  “Mrs. Nichols. She asked me if I was aware you were having an affair with her husband. Apparently she believes I’m your boyfriend. She isn’t a happy camper at the moment.”

  “Interesting. Why on this earth would she think that?”

  “Let’s find out.”

  This was not a blip she saw coming on the horizon, so Ellie said under her breath, “I meant that you were my boyfriend.”

  “I’m not?”

  “We’ll discuss that later.”

  “She’s pretty upset.”

  He was right there.

  The woman looked … distraught when Ellie walked into the living room. The word applied. Her eyes were red like she’d been crying and her mouth pressed into a very firm line. Ellie certainly didn’t need this in her day, but it might prove helpful. “I would say something polite but I don’t get the impression this is a neighborly visit. Why on earth do you think I’m having an affair with your husband?”