to be honest with himself, he was curious what it would feel like to plunge his razor-sharp knife into Cheryl’s heart. See how long she twitched at the end of the metal blade. Every time he thought about her snide comments, sneers, and generally smug demeanor, he got so mad he could feel his face flush. And that made him believe he’d enjoy sticking her like a marshmallow about to go over a campfire.
He had no idea where Cheryl was going, but was surprised when she pulled over quickly into a large strip mall with a Home Depot at one end and a Sports Authority at the other. He eased into the parking lot and caught a glimpse of her walking near the Sports Authority. All he was really trying to accomplish today was to get an idea of where he could deal with her since he knew he couldn’t do it at her house or his apartment. Maybe his best bet was to follow her out of her parents’ development like he had today.
He pulled the van into a spot where he could see her walk from her car toward Sports Authority. She was wearing jeans and a tight blouse showing off the big, fake boobs she was so proud of. Then, as she pushed through the front door, she stopped and looked back like she was checking to see if anyone was watching her. She didn’t look directly back at the van, but her suspicious movements made him very uncomfortable.
The sooner she was dead the better off he would be.
SEVENTEEN
Patty Levine and John Stallings waited in the car at the end of the long driveway to the Tischler house. As soon as Mrs. Tischler pulled in and parked her Jag, they were out of the car and meeting her at the front door.
Just the sight of the two police officers approaching her made Mrs. Tischler gasp and start to cry.
Patty knew Stallings had been through this and was amazed how quickly he got to her to say, “We don’t have any news, Mrs. Tischler. Just a few more questions.” He firmly grasped both of Mrs. Tischler’s arms until she looked at him and seemed to acknowledge his comment.
Stallings said, “Do you understand me? We don’t have any information about Leah yet. I promise you we’re looking very hard.”
Mrs. Tischler nodded her head and ushered the detectives inside the opulent home.
Patty noticed the two younger boys nestled in front of the TV watching an older Jackie Chan movie. When they settled in the den, Patty sat close to Mrs. Tischler. That’s when she noticed the telltale signs of someone strung out on prescription drugs. It looked like she was moving in slow motion, she was clearly lethargic, her tongue worked its way around her lips as if she was thirsty, and her pupils looked like pinpricks even in the low light.
Patty said, “Have you heard anything at all about Leah from anyone else since we spoke?” It was more a habit than a real question.
Mrs. Tischler shook her head.
Patty asked a couple more questions, all of them receiving slow, negative responses. She paused and said, “I have one question that, um, could be a little sensitive.”
Mrs. Tischler looked at her with those pale eyes, waiting for the question.
“Did you or your husband have any intense discussions with Leah last week before she disappeared?”
“I told you we hadn’t really had a serious fight.”
“I’m not talking about an argument, so much as a disclosure. Perhaps Leah told you something that upset you or your husband. Anything like that at all?”
Mrs. Tischler’s eyes seemed to focus all at once; then in a low voice she said, “Who have you been talking to?”
“Everyone.”
“Leah …” Mrs. Tischler took a very long pause, using the time to breathe deeply several times. “… said that she and another girl at the school had a relationship.”
Patty was very careful when she said, “A romantic relationship?”
Mrs. Tischler nodded her head and mumbled, “Why would that matter?”
“What matters is how Leah perceived your response to her admission. It matters because it’s very important to know whether she ran away or if something else happened. It’s important because we need to know the whole truth.”
Mrs. Tischler started to cry and reached for a Kleenex.
Patty said, “Do you have any idea where she might’ve gone?”
She shook her head.
“Did she ever mention a girl from Tennessee?”
Mrs. Tischler shook her head.
Mrs. Tischler murmured, “She was just so confused.”
Patty didn’t know how many times she’d heard that exact phrase the past two years and knew that in this case it really meant
Patty said, “So she did run away.”
Mrs. Tischler nodded her head and a barely audible “Yes” escaped her.
“It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
“It was Bob. He was the one who couldn’t take it. He was being so unreasonable and he didn’t even realize it. He drove her away from us.” The woman started to cry uncontrollably.
Patty sat there for a second, looked at her partner, and could see in his face he was wondering if he had somehow chased away Jeanie.
Stallings was shaken by the meeting with Leah Tischler’s mother. After he dropped Patty off at the PMB so she could check with the computer techs to see if they had any e-mails or indicators pointing toward Tennessee, he swung by the community center where his father would be working on a Thursday evening. As always, he was careful to park his car across the street in the church parking lot so as not to scare anyone participating in any of the classes or support groups in the giant community center.
He was surprised when he walked in the front door and saw how many people were making use of the facility. In the far corner, the single basketball court was being used by a dozen young men. Scattered in front of the court were eight tables, each filled to capacity with people in support groups or learning some new craft.
There were three priests from the church across the street who supervised the busy community center and wandered around with their collars on more casual, short-sleeved shirts.
After Stallings had been standing there a few minutes, one of the priests approached him. He looked to be about Stallings’s age or maybe a little younger, like his late thirties, but he still had a paternal air about him.
“Can I help you with something?”
Stallings pointed at the table where he saw his father was leading a discussion and said, “I’m James Stallings’s son.”
A smile spread across the priest’s face as he said, “You must be the policeman, Johnny. I’ve heard a great deal about you and your wonderful family.”
Stallings didn’t know what to say so he smiled and nodded.
The priest said, “You should be very proud of your father. Not only has he been able to overcome his alcoholism, but he’s obviously working hard to help others. He and I have gotten very close over the last few years as he’s worked more and more around here.”
Stallings nodded again, realizing he didn’t have to go into the history he had with his father. There was no need to detail the beatings or the rantings that had driven his sister to run away, then come back, never quite the same. He let the priest have his saintly view of his imperfect father.
The group sitting around his father’s table broke up and the priest led Stallings over. He could hear his father say good night to each of the men by name, offering them some little encouragement.
His father looked over, smiled, and stood, saying, “Hello, Johnny, what a nice surprise to see you over here.” He looked at the priest, whom he’d known for several years, then back to Stallings. “Are you going to introduce me to your friend, Johnny?”
Now Stallings knew there was a problem.
