She's Not There - Madison Marla - Страница 67
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TJ sat back. The boy looked like he was fighting back tears. It would be self-serving, but she said, “If you’re sure there’s nothing you saw that could help the police, then it doesn’t matter if you didn’t tell them, does it?” The cop in her cringed at the blatant manipulation; the tiniest detail could be important in any investigation.
Tommy released a deep breath. “I guess not. But what if I could have saved him?”
“Tommy, whoever did it made a killin’ shot, and two more to be positive he was dead. Guy probably was dead before he hit the ground, would have bled out in minutes. There was nothin’ you could have done for him.”
“Are you sure?”
Now for the big lie. “Yeah. I saw the autopsy report.”
Tommy Rennicke walked out of her apartment a short time later, standing taller. TJ relieved him of his burden, but assumed one of her own. She hadn’t done the right thing—but it was the right thing for the kid—and for Lisa.
83
Walking with Phanny on the streets next to Lake Oconomowoc, Lisa contemplated the direction her life had taken. She felt good about putting the families of the missing women at peace, assuring them the murderer wouldn’t be terrorizing any more women. But personally, for her little had changed. Busier than ever with her practice, the publicity caused by the group’s part in the discovery had made them all household names. In an attempt to smooth out the rough edges of her life, she continued seeing Bernstein. Their discussions had progressed from James Wilson to her ineffective relationships. She felt like they were making headway.
At Eric’s request she’d stayed on in his house long after TJ and Shannon had left. It had been comfortable living with him, but little changed between them. They remained friends, nothing more. On the day of Kayla’s memorial service, Kayla’s sister Dawn had clung to Eric, apologizing over and over for not believing in him. Lisa knew all about Kayla’s family, their rejection of Eric and their input to the police, spinning Eric as Kayla’s murderer, even expanding on the most trivial details to cement his conviction.
She couldn’t help but notice Eric and Dawn left the service together, or that he didn’t come home until after midnight. Eric had apparently forgiven the woman. At length.
After a few days of quickly glossed-over phone calls when in Lisa’s presence, she concluded Eric was spending time with Dawn. Not that she could blame him—the woman was striking, a tall, auburn-haired beauty like her sister.
Using Paige’s possible return as an excuse, Lisa moved back home. It would have been awkward to stay with Eric under the circumstances, and she enjoyed being back in her own home.
Lisa and Phanny wound their way back to the house. Lisa looked at it affectionately. Despite her loneliness, her home was her sanctuary.
Later that night, Lisa sat in the screened porch overlooking the lake. A half moon lit the sky while Phanny snored softly at her feet. The trees were just starting to sprout, the cool air smelled of spring, newly mown grass, and fresh earth. She heard the ripples of the shoreline lapping at the rocks.
Lighting up the yard, the glare of headlights interrupted the tranquility of the night. Lisa no longer panicked at the sound of someone approaching and knew she’d come a long way since the days she’d been stalked by a murderer. She stood to see Eric climbing the stairs to the deck.
“Glad you’re still up.”
Dressed in a tuxedo, his tie loosened, his steps weary, Lisa couldn’t imagine where he’d been or why he was here. She opened the door to him and sat back down. “I like to sit out here at night.”
Eric lowered himself into a chair next to her. “I can see why.”
Lisa’s skin tingled at his nearness while she chastised herself for interpreting his arrival so late at night as something romantic. “Would you like something to drink?”
He leaned back in the chair with his legs stretched out in front of him, his dark eyes and hair ebony in the moonlight. “No, I’ve had enough to drink. I was at a banquet put on by the hospital where I used to work. They offered me my old job back. I turned them down and it felt great.”
“Did you know before tonight you wouldn’t accept if they offered?”
“Actually, I didn’t. I thought it was what I wanted until it happened. It hit me that I’m satisfied with what I’m doing now. Along with my employees, I’ve turned a dying business around and made it profitable. I think your suggestion was a good one. I’ll do some teaching instead of going back into practice.”
Stunned by his decision, Lisa didn’t know what to say. “Let me get you a cup of tea—I just had some heating up.”
When she handed him the tea, he asked, “What’s new with the case? I haven’t heard anything about it for some time.”
“Then you don’t know about Jamie Denison?” When he raised his brows she said, “Jamie’s body wasn’t one of the women they found at Wilson’s place in Mellen.”
“I didn’t see that one coming. How did TJ take the news?”
Lisa sighed. “Not well, I’m afraid. She’s been trying to convince the Brookfield Police to change Jeff’s cause of death to foul play. Now with this unexpected twist, the Brookfield police will never believe he didn’t kill his wife—and commit suicide.”
“I’ll have to call her. See if there’s anything I can do for her.”
“She’s at Janeen’s.”
Eric put his cup down and reached for Lisa’s hand. The touch of his hand sparked her desire for him. She felt like a teenager—but he could be preparing to tell her about dating Dawn.
“I want you to come back.”
Sure he’d felt the bolt of electricity that surged through her body at his words, Lisa asked, “Are you sure that’s a good idea? It was starting to feel rather awkward for me to stay with you.” There, she’d let it out.
“Because of Dawn?”
He apparently took her silence as an affirmation. “I did spend some time with her. I think I tried to convince myself that her family really hadn’t thought I’d murdered Kayla, until it finally occurred to me what they thought didn’t matter anymore. There’s nothing between Dawn and me. When you moved out I thought you needed to have some time to yourself.”
He’d twined his fingers with hers, his thumb caressing the palm of her hand. She was speechless with wanting him, but unsure if packing up and moving back at his whim was the right thing for her. And she still hadn’t decided if getting involved with him made any sense without telling him the truth about James—that she’d been the one who’d shot him. The subject had been hashed over at length with Bernstein and TJ without resolution. Lisa remained torn; she wanted Eric to accept her despite what she’d done, but didn’t want to burden him with the truth.
“I’m sorry, Lisa. I can’t expect you to drop everything for me. Think it over. But no matter what you decide about the living arrangements, I want you in my life.”
Filled with hope for a future with him, Lisa knew what she had to do. “Eric, there’s something I have to tell you.”
Eric placed his other hand on top of hers and turned to her. “Lisa, I know who you are. Nothing from the past matters; I want you to know that.”
Lisa felt the first pangs of regret for her act. “It’s something big, Eric. I’ve been struggling with telling you for months.” She felt a lump forming in her throat.
“I know, Lisa. I figured it out a long time ago.” He reached for her and held her as she sobbed.
Epilogu e
“It’s too late to say you’re sorry . . .”
Dubai, July 4
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