“I’d like to add,” Jen said, “That I’ve only known Bart for about a week now, and he’s been nothing but kind.” She looked over at Bart. “I’ve read some of his posts, and he’s nothing like his blog persona. He really isn’t.”
“I don’t give a crap about his fucking persona,” TJ said. “Your boyfriend here called us murderers.”
Bart’s face reddened.
His flush annoyed TJ. “Why don’t you grow a pair, you little worm? Or are you only a big man online where no one can see you?”
“TJ,” Lisa pleaded, “let’s not get into this right now. We’re going to have a wonderful dinner in a few minutes. Jen’s been preparing it all afternoon.”
Bart cleared his throat. Everyone appeared to be waiting to hear what he had to say, except Donna. She’d left with JR when the angry words started.
“I never called any of you a murderer. That blog was about vigilantism. Someone killed that guy, killed him before it became known that he’d murdered and buried all those women. It seemed unlikely that he was killed for any reason other than for what he’d done to them, right? Someone knew about it and killed him as payback. Or it was a vigilante act.
“Sure, it could have been any one of dozens of people. It could have been someone who had it in for the guy for some other reason that had nothing to do with his killing hobby. But all of you were working on the case. It wasn’t a huge leap to guess that you’d figured out whodunit and couldn’t prove it. That gave every one of you, or all of you, a reason to get rid of the guy. And I wasn’t the first person to address it, was I?”
Before TJ could attack him, Lisa said, “No, you weren’t, Bart. But we all suffered when the media jumped on those insinuations. And having it all dredged up again now really stung.”
Eric said, “I think we can all agree that wasn’t pleasant. But it’s over now and can’t be undone. We’re all adults here; let’s move on. I made the decision to invite Bart and Jen to join us here even though I don’t like what he wrote, either. Whether we like it or not, we have a common bond right now, and it makes sense to join forces before this new menace strikes out at any of us. Despite how I feel about your writing, Bart, I wouldn’t want you to be hurt if there was anything I could do to prevent it.” The others were quiet, admonished. “So let’s sit down now and enjoy this wonderful meal Jen prepared.”
49
TJ left for Cedar Rapids the next morning driving the Mini. Yesterday’s snow had turned out to be nothing but flurries.
She’d been surprised the night before when Richard crawled into bed with her; she hadn’t thought he would be able to come out to Eric’s that night. He hugged her, and they exchanged a quick kiss before falling asleep. In the morning, Donna sent JR into the room so they hadn’t had any private time, which suited TJ. She wasn’t ready to share the info on Whitney’s identity—not before she made the trip to Iowa and got a crack at the ex-husband.
The drive to Iowa was long and boring, and it was noon by the time she arrived in Cedar Rapids, where inch-wide, heavy snowflakes drifted down quietly onto the roads. TJ realized she should have checked the weather before leaving town in the Mini. The little car didn’t have all-wheel drive, but it was light and would at least get through the snow easily as long as it didn’t get too deep.
The fire station where Caruthers worked was on a highway leading out of town from Marion, which adjoined Cedar Rapids. The firemen looked her over appraisingly when she wandered into the garage where they were cleaning the trucks. The air reeked of polish and testosterone. Six firefighters, all fit and trim, gathered around her.
“Any of you guys happen to be Thomas Caruthers?” she asked.
“You’re looking for Caruthers,” one of them said, inching closer to her. He was taller than the others and wore a name badge identifying himself as Lanny Grimes. “I’m jealous,” he said with a lecherous grin. “He’s not on today. What do you want with our Tommy?”
TJ pulled one of her cards from her pocket, intentionally giving the lech a glimpse of the weapon she wore holstered under her left arm. “I’m lookin’ for his wife. Anyone seen her recently?”
Grimes stepped back, sneering. “That bitch? When she took off that was the best thing that ever happened to the guy.”
“How about her relatives? They live in town?”
One of the other men answered, “Lindsey has a sister here. Her name’s Naddy Wattnem,” which got a stern look from Grimes, who apparently held position at the top of the pecking order.
“Any close girlfriends?”
No one answered until a very young-looking man walked over and joined them. He said, “Yeah, Lindsey used to hang with my cousin and some friend of hers.” TJ jotted down information on the friends and the sister and then made a quick exit.
By the time she got back in the Mini, the snow had stopped falling, so she took time to have lunch in a family restaurant in downtown Marion, where she indulged in a decadent patty melt that came with a huge order of fries.
Lindsey Caruthers’ sister Naddy lived in a house on the opposite side of Cedar Rapids, nestled halfway up a steep hill that overlooked a picturesque valley containing a colorful one-story condo complex of small bungalows. TJ had called ahead to make sure Wattnem was home. The Wattnems’ tidy bi-level sat on the edge of the valley. Naddy opened the door quickly.
“Thank you for coming,” she said after escorting TJ to a cozy kitchen where she smelled coffee brewing and saw that Wattnem had taken time to have place settings out and a plate of cookies that smelled freshly baked. Her face was anxious under dark wavy hair, and her brown eyes glistening with concern for her sister.
Wattnem said, “I’m so glad you’re looking for my sister. The police aren’t doing a thing.”
TJ took a seat and reached for a cookie. “What do they think happened to her?”
“The police think she left him.” Wattnem scoffed. “The idiots. She wouldn’t have left without telling me. We were close.” She wiped her eyes. “Her husband, Tom . . . I’m pretty sure he was abusing her. I think he did something to her.”
TJ didn’t point out the obvious, that if the sisters were all that close, then she would have known for sure if the husband were abusive. But Lindsey could have hidden the fact. “She ever call the cops on him?”
“If she had, it wouldn’t have done any good. It’s funny, you know. Despite the rivalry that’s always been there between the police and the firefighters, when it comes to something like this, they stick together.”
“Right.” TJ knew how it worked from her years on the force. The two groups hated each other’s guts but saw women as a common enemy—except when they wanted something from a woman. Thankfully, Richard wasn’t like that. He carried his own brand of chauvinism, but when it came to women getting hurt, he championed their cause. “So you think the cops would cover for the guy even if they knew what he was doin’.”
“I think the ones who took the call minimized their report.”
“Did your sister ever talk about leavin’ him?”
“Only when I brought it up. And I did, many times. Her roots are here, though, and she didn’t want to leave. Lindsey believed if she left, she would have to go somewhere far away. She was afraid of him.”
“But she still loved the guy, right?” They always did. TJ never had understood why it was that no matter how badly their men treated them, many women hung around, often until it was too late to save them.
Wattnem sighed. “I suppose so. She met him when one of her roommates left a roast in the oven too long. The apartment filled with smoke and one of the other tenants called the fire department. A few of the firefighters inspected the place to be sure everything was all right. The girls thought the men looked sexy in those big suits they wear, and the guys got turned on by checking out a possible apartment fire where three pretty, single women lived. Tom asked her for her phone number, that’s how it started. They were married six months later.”
“So, what do you th
ink happened to her?”
“I want to believe she ran away from him. But like I said, I’m terrified that he did something to her.”
“Do you know if she took anything with her?”
“She didn’t take her car. Tom said her purse and all her things were still there, but he never offered to give me any of them or even let me see them. He didn’t even let me in their house after she went missing.”
TJ recalled Turner’s report and asked, “Did your sister have kids?”
Wattnem’s eyes misted over. “I’m pretty sure that when she left here she was pregnant. I told the police about it, told them that Tom didn’t want kids, that he might have been so angry about her getting pregnant that he killed her. But I had no proof. Her doctor wouldn’t tell me for sure if she was pregnant because of the privacy rules and she never really said, just kind of hinted.”
“I can tell you this much; your sister was safe. She was livin’ in Madison, workin’ as a waitress. Accordin’ to a friend she worked with, your sister had a miscarriage shortly after she moved to Madison.”
“Oh, no. Poor Lindsey. I just wish she had confided in me. I would have helped her.”
“She was probably protectin’ you from him. Sometimes guys like him strike out at anybody who gets in their way.”
“I thought about that. But it seemed like she would have found a way to at least let me know she was safe.”
“Were the cops ever lookin’ at her husband as a suspect?”
“One of the detectives kind of agreed with me that Tom could have done something to her, but when I tried to call him he was always busy. I even went there in person one day and cornered him. He said there wasn’t enough evidence to look at her disappearance as a murder. And if I was right about the abuse and the pregnancy, she probably took off to protect the baby.” She paused. “Wait a minute—you said she was living in Madison—where is she now?”
TJ had to tell the woman what she knew. “She left her job and her apartment in Madison. No one’s seen her for about a week now.”
“I don’t understand. Why are you looking for my sister?”
“She’s involved in a case I’m workin’ on.”
“Is she in some kind of trouble?”
“Don’t know. But she was romantically involved with a doctor who did some shady things to my client.”
TJ couldn’t tell her that she thought Wattnem’s sister had been murdered—not when that was only speculation on her part. “Is there anybody she might have confided in?”
“Lindsey didn’t really have a best friend.”
She pulled out a small notepad and wrote two names on it. “These are two women she spent time with. She knew them from work and did things with them sometimes.” She grimaced. “At least she did when Tom ‘let’ her.”
“Thanks. I’ll talk to them. You have a cell number for Tom?”
Wattnem grabbed the note and added a number, then looked over at TJ. “Please. Tell me whatever you can about my sister.”
On the spot, TJ said, “I saw her a couple weeks ago. She looked good, healthy an’ all that. Said she didn’t have a boyfriend, but I found out later she had somethin’ goin’ on with this doctor I was investigatin’.’”
“Did you ask him about her, if he knew where she was?”
“By the time I knew enough about it to ask him, it was too late. Someone killed him.”
Her face drained of color. “Oh my God. You don’t think Lindsey killed him, do you?”
TJ hesitated, considering how much to tell the woman. But before she could answer, Wattnem said, “You think she’s been murdered, too.”
TJ said softly, “Don’t know anything yet. I won’t lie to you—it’s possible, but right now I’m just tryin’ to find her.” TJ stood to leave and handed her a card.
“Please, let me know anything you find out, no matter what, okay?”
“Sure. Gotta talk to her husband next, see what he has to say for himself. Does he have some kind of business that he does when he’s off, like the rest of those guys?” TJ knew the regular off days firefighters received were conducive to side businesses. Most all of them had one, things like painting, wall-papering, or any other kind of service that could be conveniently scheduled on their days off.
Wattnem snickered. “I’m not sure you could call what Tom does a business. He does online technical ‘jobs’ on a site called Fiverr.”
“Fiverr?”
“Yes. It’s a site that lines up techies who’ll do online stuff for only five dollars for people who need that kind of help. The catch is any little thing you add to the five-dollar service that’s listed makes the price go up and as a result, very few jobs are ever really done for five dollars. And if I know Tom, he’ll find a way to gouge anyone who doesn’t know better. It’s funny, you know? The guy spends hours working out, but he has a sideline that lets him sit on his lazy ass all day.”
TJ couldn’t help but think of Bart Kosik. He claimed he made daily trips to the gym, but his physique sure didn’t show it. His personality had been a surprise too, disappointing since she had been prepared to hate the guy. “Yeah, I’ve met guys like that.”
50
The house where Whitney had lived as Caruthers’ bride sat on the western edge of Cedar Rapids, a two-story, side-by-side condo near an interstate highway. TJ parked in the driveway and approached the front door where dried-up plants in colorful containers lined the front steps. Whitney must have been the plant person and Tom obviously didn’t give a damn.
Caruthers answered, opening the door and peering at her through the glass panel of the storm door. “Whaddya want?” He was unshaven, at least a day beyond making a fashion statement. Even home alone he was dressed to show off his body in a pair of ass-hugging jeans and a T-shirt a size too small.
TJ held up her license, hoping he didn’t know it only covered her in Wisconsin. “Got a few questions for you about your wife.”
“What the fuck business is it of yours?”
“She’s got somethin’ to do with a case of mine. I need to talk to her.”
He visibly relaxed, and his gaze travelled the length of her body, lingering on her breasts even though a short leather jacket covered them. “Good luck with that. I haven’t seen Lindsey in almost a year. She ran out on me.” He added the last sentence with a touch of wonder, as if no woman in her right mind would leave a hunk like him.
“Mind if I ask you a few questions about her?”
Caruthers opened the door.
The inside of the house definitely lacked a woman’s touch. The small foyer had a stairway leading to an upper level on the right and the banister’s finial was piled with a layer of discarded outerwear. The area rug TJ stepped onto hadn’t been washed in so long that it was hard to tell what color it was underneath the grime. He took her into a living room whose main attraction was a half-circle green leather sofa, the kind with footrests at every seat and cup holders in between. It faced a huge flat-screen television that blocked most of the view through a pair of French doors leading to a patio. The patio displayed more pots containing dead vegetation.
“Sorry about the mess. Guess I need a woman around,” he said, his gaze clearly expressing an invitation
“That happens,” she said, wanting to keep him happy but not lead him on. In case he wasn’t getting the message, when she opened her jacket to take out her notebook, she gave him a look at her gun.
“You carry,” he said. “Are you licensed in this state?”
She wanted to tell him that was none of his business but opted to remain polite. “Sure am,” she lied, figuring he could check it all he wanted once she had what she came for. “Now, about your wife—when was the last time you saw her?”
He flashed her a look of disappointment as he took a seat on the end of the sofa and flipped up the footrest. “It’s like I told the cops when they were here—they always think the husband did something to the wife, right? I saw Linds the day before she went missing. We h
ad supper together that night and everything was normal.”
“You weren’t fighting?”
He folded his arms across his chest. “Hey, everybody fights. We had our differences, yeah, but there wasn’t anything going on that night. All was good.”
Despite a lack of obvious tells, TJ knew he was lying. Caruthers was too damn cool about his wife leaving. She had expected him to show at least some concern, even fake it, and she wanted to clock him just for the fun of it. “An’ you haven’t heard anything from her since then.”
“Nope. Not a word, phone call, email, text, nothing.”
She decided to put him on the spot. “You don’t seem too broke up about it.”
“Broke up?” His face reddened with anger. “That bitch left me. I was a good husband to her. I worked my ass off, turned over my paycheck. She had a good life.”
Right, TJ thought. As if that was all it took to make a woman happy. She decided to wrap it up; the guy wasn’t gonna tell her squat.
“Did she take her clothes with her when she left?”
“No.”
“Her purse?”
“Yeah, that was gone.” TJ made a note, recalling that he had told Wattnem that he had the purse.
“Anything else?”
“No. I guess she left in a hurry. Didn’t even take that piece-o’-shit car she drives.” He sneered. “She was too tight to buy anything decent.”
“How about money? Any money missin’ from your accounts?”
“Not unless she managed to squirrel some away. And she sure could have done that, you know? I told you she handled the money.”
Girl Undone (TJ Peacock & Lisa Rayburn Mysteries Book 3) Page 16