You Fit the Pattern

by Jane Haseldine

  “Are you Margaret Needleman?” Navarro asked.

  She gave Navarro and Prejean a quick once-over, but then her eyes turned into slits when she saw Julia.

  “I go by Sophiah. What’s going on here?”

  “We spoke on the phone last night. We need to ask you a few more questions about your friend Charlotte Fisher,” Navarro said.

  “She hasn’t shown up yet? Maybe Charlotte met somebody. I don’t see what the big deal is.”

  “The big deal is that she was likely picked up by a killer,” Prejean said.

  “Are you serious? If you’re cops, why is that woman from the basketball team here?” Sophiah asked, and pointed a long, manicured finger in Julia’s direction.

  “Julia’s a reporter and she’s been covering stories about a recent series of killings in the city. All the victims were female runners. The killer has been in contact with Julia,” Navarro said. “May we come in?”

  “You really think Charlotte is in trouble?”

  “She may already be dead,” Julia said. “We’re running out of time, so you need to let us in. Now.”

  “Okay, okay. I just need to let Khloe out back. She’s been cooped up in the house all night,” Sophiah answered.

  Sophiah led the group to a living room. It was decorated with white leather furniture and a giant framed photograph that held prime real estate in the center of the main wall. The picture was a shot of the backside of a long-haired blond woman’s legs and torso in a short black dress.

  “Is that you?” Russell asked.

  “Yes. Dustin Murphy took the picture. He’s a celebrity photographer and takes pictures of all the ‘who’s who’ in Detroit. It cost me a thousand dollars for the shots, but it was so worth it. Do you gentlemen like it?” Sophiah asked the male cops.

  “Are you serious? Charlotte is missing and you’re honestly fishing for compliments right now?” Julia said.

  “Julia’s worried about her friend, as I’m sure you are, too,” Navarro answered, trying not to inflame the situation so Sophiah wouldn’t clam up. “Who knew about your plans with Charlotte last night?”

  “Well, anyone who follows me on social media.” Sophiah let her dog out the back door and then took a seat in the center of the leather couch. “Charlotte and I belong to a Facebook group. It’s called ‘Motor City Mommies.’ It’s a select group of single women with kids. We share information about the best bars and restaurants, cosmetic dermatologists, nail and hair salons, anything that’s important. I got invited to join the group a year ago and Charlotte piggybacked on after me. The group just voted the Standby as the city’s best new bar. I saw it and called Charlotte. We agreed to meet there instead of the Sugar House. I posted on my Instagram and Facebook accounts that Charlotte and I were going to be there last night at eight-thirty. I also posted it on the moms’ Facebook page, too. Sometimes other women from the Facebook group show up. It’s a good way to meet like-minded females with the same ideals. But no one else confirmed that they’d join us. So it was just going to be Charlotte and me.”

  “Is this Facebook group public?” Prejean asked.

  “It’s not private. Anyone can see the posts. I know that as a fact because one time, a couple girls showed up who hadn’t been officially invited to join. It was awkward to say the least.”

  “So you were set to meet Charlotte last night, but out of the blue, your tire suddenly goes flat?” Julia asked.

  “Yes. I don’t know what you’re implying, but that’s exactly what happened. I left the basketball game and dropped Jared off at a friend’s house, where he was going to have a sleepover. I came back home to change, and when I went back out to my car, the tire was flat. So I called AAA.”

  “Do you still have the tire?” Russell asked.

  “It’s in my garage.”

  “What time did you notice the tire was flat?” Navarro asked.

  “I left the house at eight-thirty, the time I was supposed to meet Charlotte, but you never want to be right on time for something like that. It was dark, and I didn’t see the tire at first, but when I tried to back out of the driveway, I heard this terrible thumping sound. I got out and saw the tire was flat. I was pissed because I thought it was going to ruin my night.”

  Navarro gave a subtle nod in the direction of Russell and Prejean.

  “You mind if we have a look at the tire?” Russell asked.

  “If you want to waste your time, feel free. My garage is open. Like I said, AAA came and fixed it, so I didn’t get to the Standby until around nine-thirty. Charlotte wasn’t there, so I thought she took off, but then I ran into some other friends at the bar, so it wasn’t a total loss. We went to a few after-parties. I just got home,” Sophiah said, and gave Navarro a smile as if that was something to be proud of.

  “Did Charlotte mention anyone who might have been bothering her, or someone who asked her out recently? Maybe a man she met during one of your bar runs?” Navarro asked.

  “They aren’t bar runs. We’re socially active. There’s a big difference.”

  “Charlotte met someone, a man, a few nights ago at the Sugar House. Were you with her?”

  “I was there. Sure. He was good-looking. Light brown hair, well dressed, and really intense.”

  “Did you get a name?”

  “I can’t remember. But he did mention he’s a doctor.”

  Julia shot Navarro a quick glance of shared recognition. “Did he say anything about living in Florida?”

  “Now that you mention it, yes. I think he said he used to live in Miami. He said he works at Harper University Hospital now. He seemed interested in Charlotte, but I don’t know why she didn’t jump on him. She told me later she thought she saw him take his wedding ring off when we first got there. Charlotte won’t date married guys. I think that’s admirable. If anything happened to her, it would just break my heart. She is so amazing,” Sophiah answered, stringing out the last word.

  “Was the man’s name Alex Tillerman?” Navarro asked.

  “It could’ve been. Honestly, when he seemed more interested in Charlotte, I stopped paying attention. I mean, his time wouldn’t be worth my while. When you socialize as much as I do, you have to prioritize.”

  Julia grabbed her phone from her bag and punched Tillerman’s name into Safari. The first hit was his bio page from the hospital, including his headshot.

  “Is this the man you saw talking to Charlotte?” Julia asked.

  “Yes. That’s him. I’m sure of it. I remember the cleft in his chin. A good-looking doctor like that must make well into the six figures. Married or not married, Charlotte should’ve pounced.”

  Russell came back inside and hooked a finger at Navarro and Julia.

  “Thank you for your time, Ms. Needleman. If you think of anything else, please give me a call,” Navarro said, and handed Sophiah his card.

  “I hope Charlotte’s okay. I really do,” Sophiah said. “We had plans tonight.”

  Russell led the way out of the house and to a path that took them to an open side door of Sophiah’s garage, where Prejean was bent down next to a tire that was leaning up against a concrete wall.

  “The tire was slashed deliberately. It’s as flat as a pancake, and the cut isn’t on the tread,” Prejean said, and pointed his index finger to the inside top wall of the tire. “There’s a two-inch clean slice there. Someone wanted to be sure Charlotte was alone at the bar last night.”

  Prejean stood up to his full height and brushed the dirt from the garage floor off his hands.

  “You’re going to want to bring your crime scene guys down here to see if you can lift a print from the tire or the car, and you should canvass the street to see if any neighbors saw a suspicious person or vehicle hanging around last night,” Prejean said.

  “I’ve already got that covered. And we’ll send Christy King a picture of Alex Tillerman to see if she can identify him,” Navarro said.

  “Alex Tillerman?” Prejean asked. “The guy I ran off in New Orlean
s who was bothering Julia?”

  “Right, Julia’s old boyfriend. He was popped once on a domestic, but the charge was dropped, and he met Charlotte at a bar two nights ago. He’s looking good for this. Russell, make a call and see if any of the bar receipts from the Standby you pulled had Tillerman’s name on them,” Navarro said, and then turned to Julia. “Gooden, I don’t want to risk having Tillerman make a run for it if he knows we’re onto him. If he’s still got Charlotte, we need to find him fast. I need you to call him and set up a time to meet. We’ll be in a public space. Are you okay with that?”

  “You’re going to hang Julia out to try and grab Tillerman? I don’t like it. Julia told me Tillerman used to have a drug problem,” Prejean said.

  “I’d never let anything happen to Julia. And we don’t have the time to wait around. Washington would agree. I’ll brief her, but she already liked the idea of Julia baiting Tillerman when we suspected Charlotte might have run into him a few nights ago. Now we’ve got confirmation. Are you still good with this, Julia?”

  “Tell me when and where. I’m ready to set a trap. One of the things about Tillerman that’s not adding up to me, though, is the voodoo-occult angle,” Julia said.

  “Maybe he got into it after you broke up,” Russell suggested. “We’re looking for a connection between you and these women, and right now, this is a clear path.”

  “I want you to call Tillerman from my car. Put the call on speaker and tell him you’ll meet at the Great Lakes coffeehouse on Woodward in thirty minutes,” Navarro said. “I know the owner. He won’t be happy missing the early-morning crowd, but we’ll clear the place out and it will just be me, Russell, and Prejean posing as customers. I’ll call Washington and suggest putting a couple other cops in the coffee shop, in case he tries to run. You sure you’re okay with this?”

  “Let’s make the call,” Julia said.

  Navarro called Washington for the green light. After he explained the plan, he listened on the line and responded, “Are you sure, Chief? Yeah, send me the pictures.”

  Navarro hung up and addressed the group. “Washington did some more digging into Tillerman. Apparently, the domestic against his wife wasn’t his first encounter with his beating up women. He had an incident in Miami with a nurse who was his girlfriend at the time. Same thing. He beat her up, but the girlfriend wouldn’t press charges. The Miami cops told Washington the doctor got run out of the hospital down there, even though he wasn’t charged, because of bad PR. One more thing. Washington saw the pictures of both the women in the initial reports. They both have dark hair and blue eyes.”

  “Tillerman’s got a type,” Prejean said. “From what Julia told me, he sounded like a sociopath, but why would Tillerman surface after so many years?”

  “Maybe he thought Julia was the perfect girl who got away. His ex-wife and his girlfriend, who he beat on, look like Julia, and he’s dressing up his victims now to look like her, too,” Navarro said. “It’s go time, Gooden.”

  Navarro got in the back of his Tahoe with Julia, and Prejean and Russell took the seats up front. “I’m going to put this on speaker. Russell and Prejean, not a word.”

  Julia listened to the phone ring and tried to create a script in her head of what she planned to say when Tillerman answered.

  “This is Alex.”

  “It’s Julia, Julia Gooden. I got your flowers,” Julia answered, trying her best to sound engaged and actually happy to talk to him.

  “I can’t believe it. The one and only Julia Marie Gooden. I’m not trying to feed you a line, beautiful, but I never forgot about you.”

  Julia felt her cheeks get hot at the sound of Tillerman’s voice, and his use of Navarro’s personal term of endearment repulsed her and treaded on sacred ground. Navarro, sensing her discomfort, put his hand on Julia’s shoulder and nodded his head, letting her know she was okay and needed to continue with the call.

  “I hope you didn’t take the flowers I sent you as being too forward. I’ve just been thinking about you nonstop since I saw you in the restaurant. You shouldn’t make a man wait for you to call him. You were always a tease, Julia.”

  “How about we get together for coffee like you suggested. I’m pretty busy, but I could meet you this morning.”

  “I’m out right now looking at apartments, and I have to go back to the hospital. Why don’t we meet for drinks tonight? How about we meet at the Sugar House, say, around seven-thirty? I want to hit the gym after work. I do triathlon training now. You know, I came in first at a recent meet. Not to brag, but I beat out guys who were half my age.”

  Julia made a fake gun with her thumb and forefinger, put it against her temple and pretended to pull the trigger.

  “I can meet you in thirty minutes at Great Lakes Coffee on Woodward. Come on, Alex. Don’t make me wait all day to see you. I’ve been thinking about you, too,” Julia said, and rolled her eyes in disgust over her suggestion.

  “Forceful little Julia Gooden. What a turn on. You know, you were pretty cold not letting me see you in New Orleans. Maybe you could make it up to me.”

  “Where are you staying?” Julia asked, knowing the police would want to search Tillerman’s room, and she realized she was right when Navarro gave her a thumbs-up.

  “The Marriott downtown. Room 323. What are you suggesting, Julia?”

  “Just coffee for now. We’ll see how it goes.”

  “You’ve been a very bad girl. You might need to be punished,” Alex said. “Do you just want to meet at my hotel? From our conversation, I think that’s what you really want.”

  “Thirty minutes and I’ll meet you at the Great Lakes Coffee shop. Don’t be late. I promise, you’re never going to forget this day for the rest of your life.”

  Julia ended the call and then gave her cell phone the finger.

  “You did good, Julia,” Navarro said. “If Tillerman has Charlotte, we’re going to find her.”

  “And then I’m going to beat the crap out of him,” Prejean said.

  CHAPTER 26

  Julia sat at a table for two in the back of Great Lakes Coffee Roasting Company, a popular coffee shop located in a 130-year-old building on the corner of Woodward and Alexandrine in Midtown. The place had an open floor plan and distressed brick walls, environmentally conscious reclaimed wood from demolished homes in Hamtramck, and bookend chalkboards listing the latest coffee specials between shelves of wine and beer for the evening crowd.

  Julia’s carefully orchestrated position faced the street, with half a dozen cops who would run interference strategically placed between her and the door.

  Julia wanted to get her encounter over as quickly as possible, but she also knew she had to play her role and not let emotions get the best of her if Tillerman was the killer. And especially if there was a slim chance Charlotte was still alive.

  “Hey, Gooden. Don’t beat this guy up before we get him in for questioning,” Russell said. He was planted in a seat at the bar and gave Julia a big wink when she looked his way.

  “I promise I’ll be on my best behavior.”

  “We’re all set, Julia,” Washington said as she approached with Navarro. “Just so we’re clear, you’re still fine with this setup?”

  “Thanks for asking, but I’m ready.”

  “That’s the answer I want to hear. Calm and cool should be your mantra,” Washington said. “I have a unit out on the street if Tillerman tries to run. But you need to check your worry about Charlotte and whatever past business you had with Tillerman if this is going to work. Tillerman has a history of domestic violence and we can’t rule out that he’s armed. I don’t want to endanger my men, or you, if you can’t keep your cool.”

  “I can handle this, Beth. Where’s Prejean?”

  “He wanted to help out canvassing the churches,” Navarro answered. “That was his preference.”

  “It’s better he’s there, looking for Charlotte,” Julia answered. “Beth, I want to be sure we still have a deal. I’m embedded one hundred
percent in this case with the department, right? I’m hanging myself out for you. When you bring Tillerman in for questioning, I want to be there.”

  “No go, Gooden,” Washington said. “You don’t get to watch the interview.”

  “What if I refuse to meet Tillerman then? It seems to me I’m your bait with him and MMK, so I shouldn’t have to bargain just to get access to the case.”

  “You wouldn’t do that. Like the chief said, keep your emotions in check,” Navarro interjected. “You need to be engaging when you first see Tillerman. We don’t want him to suspect something’s up and then he tries to run. I’ll be sitting at a table in front. Don’t make eye contact with me or any of the other officers. Once Tillerman walks in, smile, but stay seated. I don’t want him to try to grab you when we make our move.”

  LaBeau, who was standing next to the front glass window pretending to drink a coffee and looking at his phone, called out discreetly to Washington.

  “Tillerman just parked across the street. He’s getting out of his car now.”

  Navarro leaned in and whispered in Julia’s ear, “I’ve got you.”

  Julia sat up as straight as she could in her chair and watched the entrance until the possessive man she had once dated, who’d possibly graduated to killing at least two women, strode into the coffee shop. Tillerman wore a pair of sunglasses, and took them off for dramatic effect when he spotted Julia.

  “Julia Gooden,” Tillerman said. He spread his arms out to embrace Julia, but when she stayed seated, he lifted up her hand and gave it a kiss. “Aren’t you coy, but still lovely.”

  “It’s good to see you, Alex.”

  “Are you sure you want to stay here? We could just go back to my hotel room and order room service. I think that’s what you really want to do. Tell me, Julia. Tell me what I want to hear.”

  Julia forced herself to smile back as she saw Navarro move fluidly in their direction out of the corner of her eye.

  She kept her focus on Tillerman as he edged in close, invading her space. He then spoke softly so no one could hear.