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She's Not There - Madison Marla (читаем книги онлайн TXT) 📗

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TJ found praise and criticism equally difficult to accept. “No thanks necessary.”

Lisa called Eric and told him the news about the girl.

“We’ll just have to add them to our little commune until we know it’s safe to send them home.” He didn’t ask her how TJ managed to pull it off. Or maybe he didn’t want to know.

“How about if I put them in the guest room where TJ’s been staying and have TJ move downstairs?”

“I’ll let you handle it. Is the mother willing to stay?”

“We haven’t asked her yet, but I’m sure she will be. She’s terrified of her husband and that he might try to take Tina again. Are you coming home right after you close?”

“I’m planning on it, why?”

“I’m making a pot roast. I thought we could all use some comfort food.”

After dinner, Eric drove Lisa home to pick up some things she wanted for the preparation of their Thanksgiving dinner.

Lisa had lost much of her enthusiasm for the event. Maggie had called earlier to let them know the police had no bead on Wysecki and it would be at least a few days before they identified the bodies. Maggie admitted she couldn’t see Wysecki as being able to carry out the complex plot hatched by the person the group sought. With TJ still insisting Eddie Wysecki probably didn’t know how to do anything more complex than mix a dry martini or read a racing form, Lisa finally had to admit he wasn’t their killer.

Eddie was, however, being sought as Danielle’s murderer, and Maggie warned them it wouldn’t be long before the police would be around again to interview the group, especially TJ. She reminded them they would have to be open with the police about their investigation into the missing women.

Eric interrupted Lisa’s thoughts. “You’re awfully quiet. Problems other than the obvious?”

“Other than the fact someone wants to kill me?” Lisa was terrified Danielle’s murderer would find her and finish the job. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you. You’re right; there are other things I’m wrestling with.”

When they arrived at her house, Eric opened the car door for her. At his insistence, she’d added timers to her outdoor lights, and the place was lit up like a going-out-of-business sale. At the entrance to her house, a plastic bag containing a gift-wrapped package hung suspended from the doorknob. Its unexpected appearance stopped them where they stood.

“Maybe we should call Maggie,” said Eric, stepping protectively in front of Lisa.

“No. Let’s take it in first and see if I can tell where it’s from. Paige could have arranged to have something sent.”

Carefully, they carried the package into the house and set it on the kitchen table. As they edged the box from the plastic, the logo of a local florist became visible next to a large, red bow. Eric handed Lisa a card that had been attached to the bow.

Lisa, I’m feeling terrible about the way we left things. Please, let’s meet for a drink and talk. Love, Tyler

Lisa hadn’t heard from Tyler since the night he called to tell her he’d broken off his engagement. She’d told him it was over between them and knew she’d done the right thing. But at this moment, she’d have given anything to be with him, wrapped in the sanctuary of his embrace if only for one night.

“I assume we don’t have to call the bomb squad?”

Lisa shook her head, mortified to find she couldn’t speak around the lump rising in her throat.

Eric placed a hand on her shoulder. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.” She reached into the box and lifted out a small crystal bowl filled with a bouquet of pink tea roses and babies’ breath.

Eric gave her a handkerchief to catch the tear rolling down her cheek at the sight of the flowers. He led her to the sofa, and after locating a bottle of wine, poured her a drink. Lisa cradled the glass in her hands, wishing she were alone to have a good cry.

He sat down across from her.  “All right, I’ll play the shrink, you can be the patient.”

Confiding in Eric was the last thing she wanted to do, but absent the opportunity to be alone for a good cry, his presence would have to do.

“It’s everything. All of this couldn’t have come at a worse time for me. My daughter’s not coming home for the holiday, and a relationship I enjoyed just ended, and even though the parting was inevitable, it’s left a void in my life. And this fear—it’s almost more than I can handle.”

“This is the first time I’ve seen you show any sign of weakness.  But I know you’re a strong woman.”

“I’m a strong person in a lot of ways, but there’s been too much all at once. Maybe it’s time for me to have some therapy of my own. I’ve been putting it off since my therapist cut me loose.”

Eric leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “A therapist would do that?”

“Therapy only works if the patient is willing to make the changes necessary to improve their life—I wasn’t.” She took a deep breath. “But I’m also feeling a little guilty talking about me when you’re feeling bad about Danielle.”

“Forget about me. I’m intrigued—tell me the rest.“

She’d opened Pandora’s box; she might as well tell him everything. “I don’t do well with relationships—mature ones, anyway. I like the excitement of meeting someone new, the challenge of the hunt, the highs. If it starts resembling stability, I leave. I gravitate toward men who are unattainable. The latest, the one who sent the roses, is fifteen years younger than I am. We ended when he became engaged. Then, after his engagement didn’t work out he called and said he’d like to pick up where we left off. I turned him down. The flowers are an attempt to change my mind.”

He chuckled softly. “I think we actually have something in common.”

44             

It was after eleven when Maggie and David left the Waukesha station. Their differences of the evening before had been forgotten in the day’s events, and David asked to spend the night with her. Too wired for sleep, they had a beer in front of the TV, neither of them paying much attention to the old movie playing on the set.

David, still angry that Waukesha had let Wysecki out of their sight long enough to run, still complained about it. “We don’t have enough manpower to be sure every possible route out of town is covered. Crap, it’s impossible, anyway. If Wysecki has an alternate ID, we’re screwed.”

Maggie sighed. “They didn’t have anything to hold him on, and he didn’t seem important enough to put on a tail.”

She leaned back, her head on David’s shoulder, and closed her eyes. She should get some sleep, close down her mind for a few hours. She heard David flipping through the channels, finding the usual late night drivel, stopping at a poker tournament.

He said, “Wysecki doesn’t have much of a life outside of his bar. He’s a gambler. If he gets his ass to Vegas, he might as well be on the moon; any idiot could disappear there.”

Maggie opened her eyes and sat up. “Didn’t someone say he liked to play the horses? Wouldn’t a guy like him head somewhere with a track?”

“Might be a place to look. Most of the tracks in the Midwest close for winter, but isn’t there a track in Florida that’s open all year?”

“Florida and California, I think. It’s worth a shot. We could call the tracks and get his picture circulated, have them keep an eye out for the guy.” Excited, Maggie had a burst of renewed energy and went for her computer.

David groaned. “Not now.”

“It’ll only take a minute. I’ll find out which tracks are open this time of year, and we can alert them in the morning.” Maggie already had her computer open, quickly tapping keys.

“You do that. I’m going to take a shower. I’ll keep the bed warm for you.”

After fifteen minutes online, Maggie discovered a lot of racetracks open during the winter months. She thought it best to go with the big ones and decided on Hialeah in Florida and Aqueduct in New York. She didn’t think the smaller tracks would be as attractive to a gambler, but she liked Arizona and New Mexico for their proximity to the border, and selected three from those states. She settled on a list of five to contact first thing in the morning.

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