Chapter Twenty-Eight

AS PROMISED, TOMAS texted me the contact information for Susan Leads’s mother. Hannah and I called Mrs. Leads from Hannah’s BMW.

Hannah performed the introductions and explained the purpose of our call. In doing so, she made sure to mention we were pursuing Mrs. Leads’s nephew as a person of interest in a murder investigation. That was more detail than we’d given others regarding the investigation, but if Susan’s mother was still bitter toward her nephew, we hoped that information might inspire her to talk. As it happened, we might have underestimated just how hostile she was.

“Every night I go to bed and wish Michael a slow, painful death. I know this isn’t the kind of thing you’re supposed to pray for, but I’ve become very Old Testament since my daughter was killed.”

“Mrs. Leads,” Hannah said, “was Michael the reason your daughter moved and changed her name?”

“You’re damn right he was. Right after she and Michael were caught together, we moved out of town, and I sent my daughter to a psychiatrist. With the doctor’s help and Michael out of her life, it looked like Susan was getting her life back together. She even applied to a few colleges to get her education degree.

“It was after Susan started going to college and living away from home that Michael started contacting her again. At first, it was phone calls. Michael began by calling Susan a few times each week, and he eventually moved to every day. Susan told us what was going on, so I called my sister, Alma. She promised Michael would stop, and for a while, that’s precisely what happened.

“Six months later, Susan began seeing Michael around campus. I figured she was imagining things, but Susan insisted it was him. I called my sister, and Alma again promised that Michael would stop. Whatever Alma said to him, Susan didn’t hear from Michael again for another five or six years. By that time, she was in her first teaching job, and it looked like Susan had found her calling. Unfortunately, Michael graduated from medical school around that same time.

“Maybe graduation made him feel less restricted by parental interference. Whatever the reason, the calls began all over again. Just like the first time, they started on a periodic basis but eventually became every day. We tried to talk Susan into applying for a restraining order, but there was nothing about the calls that sounded threatening or hostile. Susan thought if she refused to answer, Michael would eventually give up and forget about her.

“She was wrong. Michael was in the middle of his residency, but he still found time for daily phone calls. Susan didn’t talk about it much, but I could tell she was frustrated. I tried calling my sister, but Alma said Michael no longer took her calls.”

“Did Susan try changing her number?” I asked.

“Only six or seven times, but Michael managed to find her regardless. No one ever said he wasn’t smart. Then Susan got the idea of moving to Cicero and changing her name. After some research, she decided she couldn’t do it through the court system. Unless you’re getting married or divorced, Illinois insists you advertise a name change through your local newspaper. If Susan did that, she was afraid Michael would find out.”

“Did it work?” I asked. “Did Susan have any more contact with Michael after the name change?”

“To my knowledge, Michael never contacted her in Cicero. When we spoke after her move, it was the first time in years that Susan sounded happy. She liked her job at the middle school and began dating one of the teachers. We missed having her close to home, but it was worth it to know she was in such a good place emotionally.”

Hannah and I exchanged glances. “Mrs. Leads, after Susan was killed, did you contact your sister and let her know what happened?”

“I called her the day after the murder. I told Alma if it wasn’t for her son, Susan would be alive today. Thinking back, I’m not sure any of that was fair. Murders take place everywhere, and the same thing could have happened if Susan had stayed. I needed someone to blame, however, and my sister was an easy target.”

“Have you spoken to your sister since then?” Hannah asked.

“No, and that’s another relationship Michael managed to ruin. That boy was like cancer. He spoiled everything he touched. If he is guilty of the murder you’re looking into, just shoot him. He doesn’t deserve the chance to get away.”

We thanked Mrs. Leads for her time and ended the call. While there was still no direct evidence, it felt like a near certainty: Michael knew of Susan’s death, and his guilt was driving him to kill.

We needed to flush him out. I mentioned this to Hannah, and she pointed out the logistical challenges.

“You send him a message, and he replies. If you’re lucky, you get his address. Then what do you do? Keep in mind this guy’s not stupid. He might realize his mistake immediately and choose to abandon whatever house he’s in. We need a team ready to roll as soon as his location becomes available. The team should be small, so we don’t alert the neighbors, but it can’t be just you and me. Once I tell my captain all this, I’d be amazed if he lets you go at all.”

Seeing my face and realizing I was disappointed, she added, “This is a good plan. It’s certainly the closest we’ve come since we started with this thing. We just need to make sure we have a strategy in place before we get moving.”

I knew she was right, so I swallowed my frustration. We drove back to the Twelfth District to flesh out our plan.