“I think she would have felt that Kenny deserved a special kind of demise, of torture, compared to the others. He loved her, at least in a physical sense, and then abandoned her and her child. Plus, he succeeded dramatically in the NFL, which in her eyes made him the most guilty of nonsupport.”
“But he provided support,” I say. “He made sure her husband was employed, and gave her money to raise the child.”
Carlotta shakes her head. “Not enough. In her eyes not nearly enough. She wanted to be married to a star, and instead in her eyes she thought she was living with a cripple.”
“Why now? Why would she wait and then choose to go after Kenny now?”
She shrugs. “That’s beyond my range of knowledge. Did anything significant happen in Kenny’s football career recently? Any special achievement?”
There it is; I can’t believe I hadn’t seen it. “He just signed a fourteen-million-dollar, three-year deal, plus incentives.”
She smiles. “That might be rather significant, don’t you think?”
I nod. “What is she likely to do next?”
“It’s hard to say. She could continue to try to exact her revenge on Kenny, and that desire could be increased by her husband’s death, even if she is the one that killed him. Or she could try to win him over, in the misguided notion that her husband stood between them. She might think that Kenny will now love her and they can ride off into the sunset together. One thing you can be sure of, though: She will do something. This doesn’t end here.”
On that ominous note I head down to the police station to meet with Pete Stanton. He is a very good friend of Laurie’s, and I have to resist a strong temptation to ask if he’s heard from her. Instead, I repeat the saga of Teri Pollard.
Since he’s a good cop, his first reaction is skepticism that someone like Teri Pollard could have pulled off all these killings.
“Think about it,” I say. “Most of them were heart attacks, and I’ll bet she used potassium, or something just like it. As a nurse she would have had even greater access to it than Bobby. As for the other deaths, Kenny told me she grew up in Kentucky and as a girl went hunting with her father, so she could handle a rifle. And a hit-and-run, anybody could do that.”
“Have you established that she was present in the cities where the deaths took place?” he asks.
I shake my head. “Not yet. But Bobby said she went on all the road trips with him. That’s why she couldn’t hold down a full-time nursing job. She had the same access he did.”
He’s looking doubtful, so I add, “And there was evidence that a woman called a taxi from the convenience store near where Kenny’s car was found. No one made the connection until now.”
“What about her husband’s suicide?” Pete asks. “He fired the weapon that killed him; there was gun residue all over his hands.”
“I’d be willing to bet she had given him a drug to knock him out… probably potassium as well. She held the gun to his head with his own hand.”
He still doesn’t fully believe me but is cautious enough to be alarmed by Kenny’s plan to visit her tomorrow night. He also knows that if I’m right, then Kenny’s canceling the visit is not going to solve the problem. She’d keep coming after him.
We come up with a plan, but one that requires Kenny’s participation. Pete comes with me to Kenny’s house to present it, and Tanya joins us as we do so. Basically, we want Kenny to go to Teri’s wearing a wire, and with a contingent of police secretly stationed right outside the house. If she makes a threatening or incriminating move, they will rush in and arrest her.
It’s obviously dangerous, and Tanya predictably is against it. “If you’re so sure she’s the one, why don’t you just arrest her now?” she asks.
“Because there’s not enough evidence to make it stick,” I say, and Pete voices his agreement. I go on, “Tanya, if we’re right, she’s going to keep coming after Kenny. We can either wait for her to do it on her terms or get her to do it on ours, when we’re ready.”
Kenny, who has been silent, considering this is his life we’ve been talking about, nods. “Let’s do it. I want this over with.”
* * * * *
PETE ALLOWS ME TO sit in the police communications van, situated just around the corner from Teri’s house. Small cameras and microphones have been surreptitiously placed to monitor everything that goes on inside, and it’s all in front of us on screens.
In the van are two technicians, plus Pete and I. The armed units are stationed near the house, out of sight from the street because, although it’s seven-forty-five, Teri isn’t home yet. Kenny is due in fifteen minutes, and we’ve told him to be right on time.
I’m vaguely uncomfortable with Teri’s late arrival. If we’re right, and she’s going to make an attempt on Kenny’s life, it’s the type of thing you’d think she’d want to prepare for. You wouldn’t expect her to be somewhere looking at her watch and thinking to herself, “Gee, I’m running late. I’m supposed to be killing Kenny Schilling in fifteen minutes.”
“She might have made us somehow,” Pete says. “She may know we’re here. Or maybe something happened with her kid.”
“She told Kenny that the son was at his grandmother’s and wasn’t coming back until next week.” I don’t mention that the boy is Kenny’s biological son; it’s not something that Pete needs to know.
At eight o’clock sharp, Kenny arrives. He rings the bell and gets no answer, then seems confused as to what to do. He looks around at the street, possibly hoping that we’ll show up and tell him what the hell is going on, but of course we can’t do so, since Teri might arrive at any time. Kenny does the proper thing: He sits on the porch and waits.
Another five minutes go by, and still no Teri. Kenny just sits there on the porch, completely and rightfully confused. Pete says, “Poor guy is getting stood up by the person supposed to kill him. You can’t get much lower than that.”
One of the technicians laughs and says, “Maybe she changed her mind and wants to date him. My dates stand me up all the time.”
I don’t share in the laughter, because what he has just said triggers a recollection of Carlotta saying that Teri might no longer want to kill Kenny, that with Bobby out of the way, she might want to win Kenny back. And that recollection sends a cold chill down my spine.
“Come on!” I yell. I open the door and jump out of the van. Pete is behind me, asking what the hell is going on. I rush to his car and say, “Hurry up! I’ll tell you on the way!”
I tell him how to get to Kenny’s house and that he should get backup to follow us. Once he’s done so, I say, “Teri invited Kenny over to get him out of the house. Tanya’s the target.”
“Why?”
“To get her out of the way. Teri’s nuts enough to think that Tanya is the only reason she can’t have Kenny to herself. If she gets Tanya out of the way, she would think the coast is clear.”
“Shit,” Pete says, a sentiment I share completely.
We’re a block away from the Schilling house when I see Teri’s car.
Pete pulls up in front of the house, and I’m out of the car before he is. I run to the front door, which is fortunately but ominously open. I rush in, Pete right behind me.
We hear a woman’s voice, a frightening sound somewhere between a scream and a plea. It’s a large house, and impossible to be sure where the noise is coming from, but I realize where it must be.
“Pete!” I call out, hoping he can hear me but Teri can’t. I run for the room I was in months ago, the room where Troy Preston’s body was in the closet. I push open the door, and Tanya is huddled in a corner. Teri faces her, holding a handgun, but turns to me when she hears me coming in. Unfortunately, the gun turns along with her. “How nice you could join us,” she says.