The hunt, p.18
The Hunt, page 18
“Then no drug convictions.”
Marge said, “Maybe she was more of a known quantity in Baniff PD.”
McAdams said, “We talked to Baniff PD about Pauline. They weren’t helpful.”
“Territorial,” Decker said. “Elsie is their case.”
Marge said, “Pauline’s murder is in your jurisdiction. That should make them more amenable to sharing.”
Decker said, “In a perfect world, that should happen. I’ll call Baniff PD as soon as we get into Greenbury.” He checked her watch. “It’s almost six.”
Marge said, “We’ve got plenty of time to make your flight.”
“Yes, of course,” Decker said. “I was thinking that even if I wanted to call Baniff, it would be almost nine in Pennsylvania. I’ll leave it for tomorrow.”
McAdams said, “Are you sure you want to drive us back, Marge? It’s way out of your way. We could Uber.”
“I’m staying in L.A. with a friend,” Marge said. “It’s Will’s poker night, so everything works out perfectly.” She gave each man another two-ounce pour until the bottle was empty. “You’re not driving, so have fun.”
McAdams said, “Just because Pauline has a past doesn’t mean that Elsie and Bertram weren’t involved in her murder. We found her body near where Bertram disappeared and near where Elsie left her car. That’s more than just a coincidence.”
“Agreed.” Decker finished his wine.
Marge said, “You see the size of the tapas here? They’re huge.”
“Jewish tapas,” Decker said. “I think I’ll get an order of the fish and chips.”
“Make it two,” McAdams said. “I’m hungrier than I thought.”
“Marge?” Decker asked.
“I think I’ll try the ribs.”
“That sounds good also,” Decker said. “Let’s get two orders of ribs too. Why choose?”
“I like your philosophy.” Marge gave him a wide smile. “Just like old times, Rabbi.”
“Yep.” Decker finished off his slider and licked his fingers. “Only the food’s a hell of a lot better.”
I FELT ARMS go around my body as he pulled me to him and his breath on my neck. I had been asleep, but I was a light sleeper. I croaked out, “What time is it?”
“Four-thirty. Go back to sleep.”
“I have to go to the bathroom.”
“You need help?”
“No, I’m okay.” After I came back, I was more awake. He put his arms back around me. I said, “Did you get your business done?”
“What?”
“Your business in the afternoon. Whatever it was, it must have been important for you to stop in the middle of sex.”
“It was important. I don’t want to talk about it. I’m tired. Go to sleep.”
“Did it have anything to do with—”
“Stop it, Terry.” His sigh was exasperated. “Let me sleep.”
“He’s my son, Chris. I just want to know that he’s safe!”
“And when I have news, I’ll let you know.” He paused. “You’ve gotta stop, baby. All it’s doing is pissing me off!”
It was counterproductive to make him angry. He was a prime manipulator, but being with him all those years, I had learned a thing or two. “Do you want to make love?” I turned over and faced him. The blinds over the window let in slits of moonlight. I could see him staring at me. “Yes or no?”
He didn’t answer right away. Then he said, “I’ve been pestering you nonstop for over a week. Now, all of a sudden, you’re horny?”
I tucked an errant hair behind his ear and stroked his cheek. “You’re a very attractive man, Donatti.”
He smiled. “Think so?”
“I do.” I kissed his lips. “You are my silver fox.”
“More like your white fox.”
“Even rarer.”
He kissed me with passion. “I know what you’re doing and it’s not going to work.”
“What am I doing?”
“You are not going to weaken my resolve, little girl.”
“Resolve about what?”
“Terry, we fuck and then we go to sleep. No talking.”
“Okay.” I pushed his head between my legs. I closed my eyes and let him begin to work his magic.
A moment later, he picked his head up and said, “You know, I might be more loquacious if you let me do your ass.”
“No ass. And stop talking.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
When it was time, I pulled his chest to mine and let him finish both of us. Afterward, he scooped me in his arms, and within a minute, he was sleeping. His words played in my head.
You are not going to weaken my resolve.
Which meant he was doing something. And for now, that was all I cared about. I had to think that Sanjay was okay. To think anything else was way too frightening. Chris was smart. He could do this.
I turned on my other side and he pulled me deeper into his embrace, my back against his chest. His body was still lean, his arms muscular and strong. He was delicious in his toxic masculinity: tough and brutal and mean.
The men who beat me up and took away my son were also tough and brutal and mean.
Fight fire with fire.
CHAPTER 11
IT HAD BEEN great to see Margie, to be taken back to an earlier time when Decker was at the top of his game. Not that Greenbury didn’t have its crime, but mostly, it was a sleepy little college town. Pauline Corbett’s murder was the exception. It brought out the real detective in him, injecting a bit of youth and making him more determined than ever to find out what really happened. For the last hour, Decker had been on the computer, trying to dig up a current address for Blake Baer, Pauline’s second husband.
McAdams was sitting at his desk, across from Decker’s. He said, “Well, we don’t have to worry about Jerome Neisman.”
“Who?”
“Jerome Neisman, a.k.a. Jerry,” McAdams said. “Pauline’s first husband. He’s dead.”
Decker looked up. “Scratch him off the list and go to number three.”
“Cal Bruckner. They divorced four years ago.”
“Why can’t I find this dude?” Decker said. “I keep getting a soccer player and guys who I think are too young.”
“How young is too young?”
“In their mid-thirties.”
“Not really. Pauline was forty-three.”
“Yeah, you’re right. I’ll check them out.” Decker’s phone rang. It was Jake Quay of Baniff PD. “Hi, thanks for calling me back.”
“What’s up? Did you find Elsie Schulung?”
“Not yet, but we did find her friend, Pauline Corbett. Unfortunately, she’s dead.”
Silence. Then Quay said, “Where’d you find her?”
“Buried close to the spot where Elsie Schulung left her car. Corbett’s body is in our jurisdiction, but we know that Pauline’s blood was at Elsie’s house and that’s your jurisdiction. We need to work together on this.”
“Yeah.” A pause. “Wow. When did this happen?”
“We found the body about two, maybe three weeks ago.”
“And you’re first calling now?”
Decker forced back irritation. He was doing the man a courtesy. He didn’t need his permission to investigate his case. “I was on vacation, and it took us a while to dig her up and confirm her identity with DNA.”
“Yeah. Okay. Sure.” Quay paused. “What’s your next step?”
Decker said, “Pauline kept a studio apartment before she moved in with Elsie Schulung.”
“We checked. Nothing’s there.”
“I know that. But I’d like to canvass Pauline’s old neighborhood now that we have a body. I’ll come and bring some officers; you come and bring some officers—a joint effort.”
“I have no problem with that, Pete. I never had a problem with working together. But I have to run all operations by my captain.”
“By all means, Jake, follow your protocol,” Decker said. “I’ve got a few things to wrap up here and then I’ll come to Baniff. By then you should get your clearance.”
After he hung up, Decker turned to Tyler. “You’re coming?”
“I was planning on it.” Pause. “Okay, this is interesting. I think I might have found Cal Bruckner. He’s fifty-eight. He’s a long-distance trucker.”
“Where is home base?”
“Massachusetts.” A pause. “Right over the New York line, just east of Albany.”
“Give him a call.”
“I’ve got to get his number first.” McAdams typed into a backward directory. “It’s a 413 area code. Probably a cell phone.” He called and after two rings got voice mail. He left a message. “How many names did you pull up for husband number two?”
“I found eight Blake Baers. I think we can safely eliminate the soccer player.”
“Give me the numbers and I’ll start making calls. If that doesn’t work, I’ll start checking social media.”
Decker wrote down three phone numbers with names:
Blake R. Baer
Blake T. Baer
Blake M. Baer
He slid the paper across the desk and began calling up the remaining Blake Baers.
Two didn’t answer the phone. Decker left messages. The remaining two were the wrong Blake Baers. When McAdams finished, he said, “Two messages, and one was not the right person.”
Decker looked at the list of names of Pauline’s husbands. “I wonder if Marion Vanderberg got the name wrong.”
“Why?”
“At the end of the name Blake Baer, there’s a question mark.” Decker paused. “I could check marriage licenses. They should have the proper names.”
“Where did Pauline get married?”
“Good question.” He checked his watch. It was a little after nine PDT. Not too early. He picked up his cell and gave Marion a call. When she answered, he said, “Mrs. Vanderberg, it’s Detective Decker from Greenbury PD. How are you?”
“I’m fine, Detective. What’s up?”
“We’re in the process of contacting Pauline’s ex-husbands. I noticed you had a question mark after Blake Baer. Any reason for that?”
“Yeah, I should have called you,” Marion said. “I was blanking and I knew I got the first name wrong. It’s Brook Baer. I should have remembered his name. What I do remember was that he was a real idiot.”
“An idiot?”
“Yeah, and a dangerous one.”
“I’m going to put you on speaker so Detective McAdams can hear you.” Decker pressed the button. “Okay, Mrs. Vanderberg, we’re both here.”
McAdams said, “Hi, Mrs. Vanderberg.”
“Hi, young man, how are you?”
“Just fine,” McAdams said.
Decker said, “We can hear you perfectly. Can you tell us how Brook Baer was an idiot and a dangerous one at that?”
She said, “You know, it started coming back to me after you all left. Her history with guys. She married Jerry at around seventeen, right out of high school. He was a nice boy, but a loser. Couldn’t keep a job because he was high all the time. The marriage lasted about two years. A year later, she met the supposed love of her life—Brook. I hated him from the get-go.”
“Why was that?”
“Brook just had to be the star of the show. He talked too much and he laughed too loud. He flirted with anything in a skirt and he drank. Now, he was good-looking, I’ll give him that. Never a shortage of female admirers. But he was mean, especially when he drank.”
McAdams said, “Did he beat her?”
“Oh yes, but she only told me about the abuse around two years into their marriage.”
“Then Pauline would be about twenty-two or twenty-three?”
“Something like that. She was turning into a real good-looking woman by then. Her acne cleared up and she lost a little weight. Guys were noticing, and Brook didn’t like that. They got into an argument and he slapped her at first. Then it escalated. She left him when she was about twenty-five.”
“Then what happened?” Decker asked.
“Brook was crazy. After she left him, he started stalking her. He called her a million times a day. He followed her home from work and followed her around on weekends. She had a couple of break-ins that we think he did. She finally did get a restraining order, but you know what that’s worth.”
“Not much,” McAdams said. “How long did the stalking last?”
“About three years after they divorced. It would stop for a few months, then it would pick up again. Back and forth. She finally got so nervous, she moved out of state.”
“Where was she living at the time of the stalking?” Decker asked.
“Denver, I believe. Anyway, she finally had enough. She picked up and left for Texas. I forget where. She moved around a lot.”
“Did the stalking persist after she moved?”
“I don’t know. She stopped complaining, though. A few years later, she met Cal. That marriage lasted longer than it should have.”
“Meaning?”
“Same old, same old. They’d get high or drunk and start arguing. But they were married a while. She divorced him about four years ago.”
“Did he stalk her?”
“Cal? Nah. He remarried as soon as the ink was dry on the divorce papers.”
“And she never heard from Brook again?” Decker said.
“If she did, she didn’t tell me,” Marion said. “Like I said, we lost touch except for a few cursory texts.” A pause. “I hope this helped.”
“It does help,” Decker told her. “Would you happen to know where Brook is living now?”
“Don’t know and don’t care.”
“But she was living in Denver when she was married to him?”
“Around those parts, yes.”
“Let me just repeat a few things. She was living in Denver with Brook. Then she moved to Texas with Cal.”
“No, she moved to Texas first and there she met Cal. She and Cal moved a few times. They settled somewhere in the Midwest—Kansas or Iowa. Some farm place. After they divorced, she moved to Philadelphia.”
“How did she meet Elsie?”
“I’m not exactly sure. Pauline worked as an aide at a nursing home. Elsie was a nurse. Maybe they met in a work situation or something.”
McAdams said, “Do you know where Pauline worked?”
“Just somewhere in Philadelphia. No names come to mind.”
Decker said, “We might call you again for information. Would that be okay?”
“Call as often as you’d like, Detective,” Marion said. “Do you know when the body is going to be released? We’d like to bury her.”
“I’ll let you know when we’re done. Do you have a mortuary in mind?”
“Jeez, no, I don’t.” A pause. “I’ll call my brother and sister, and we’ll call you back when we’ve made a decision.”
“I’ll wait to hear from you,” Decker said.
“Keep me updated,” Marion said. “She was my sister, and even though we weren’t close, family is family.” Her voice had turned tearful. “Call any time.”
“Thank you.” Decker hung up.
McAdams said, “I’m already on Brook Baer.”
A moment later, the station’s phone rang. It was Cal Bruckner.
“Hello, sir, thank you for calling me back.”
His voice was deep. “No problem, Detective. What’s going on?”
“I’m going to put you on speaker so Detective Decker, my partner, can hear the conversation.” He pushed the button.
Decker said, “Hi, Mr. Bruckner, thanks for talking to us.”
“No problem.”
McAdams said, “We’re calling about your former wife, Pauline Corbett.”
“Pauline?” A sigh. “What’s she done this time?”
“I’m sorry to tell you this, especially over the phone, but she is deceased.”
“Deceased.” A pause. “You mean dead?”
“Yes, sir. We think she died about a month ago. Murdered.” Bruckner didn’t speak. Decker said, “When did you last have contact with her?”
“Years ago.”
“Two, three, four?”
“Last time I saw her was in court four years ago. And that was fine with me. Haven’t heard from her—except maybe two years ago, it was … She sent me a Christmas card. I don’t even know how she found my address. I can tell you one thing, though. My wife wasn’t too happy that my ex was still sending me a Christmas card.”
“How long have you been currently married?” McAdams asked.
“I married Rayette as soon as I divorced Pauline. It wasn’t what you think. I didn’t meet Rayette until after the marriage blew apart.”
Decker said, “Then the last time you had contact with your ex, other than a Christmas card, was when you both were in court four years ago.”
“That is the truth.”
“What did she say on the Christmas card?” Decker asked.
“Is that important?”
“I don’t know,” Decker said. “Is it?”
“I don’t know,” Cal said. “I think she said that she was happy but she missed me. That’s what pissed off the wife.” A pause. “I have no idea how she found me. I moved to Kenenntock so my wife could be with her family. It’s a small town. But that was Pauline. She was good with a computer. I’ll give her that.”
“How did you meet?” McAdams asked.
“Online,” Bruckner said. “I’m a long-distance trucker. We used to text a lot and it helped pass the time. Eventually we met up. She was coming off a bad relationship with her crazy ex. I think she was happy to keep me at a distance for a while.”
“What was she like?” Decker asked.
“Pauline?” A pause. “She was hot. But she smoked a lot of weed and was a meth head. Now, I’m not passing judgment. As a trucker, I’ve been known to take some pills. But her behavior went wacky. I didn’t want to be married to that.”
“How long were you married?”
“Seven years, although we were together longer than that. I gave it my best shot, but you can’t control everything. Why are you calling me? There must have been someone more recent in her life.”
“There was,” Decker said. “She’s missing as well.”
