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was out there, we just exchanged small talk.”

“When was the last time you saw her?”

He thinks for a moment. “It’s been a while; come to think of it, I haven’t see her car either. Maybe she’s away?”

Based on what he just said, he obviously hasn’t heard that she was murdered. It has not been a huge story in the media.

“You told the nine-one-one operator that there were other incidents in her house, and you just said that it was the ‘only time you called the cops.’ Tell me about the other incidents, and why you chose to call that night.”

“Can I ask why you’re asking me this now?”

“Fair question. Lisa Yates was murdered last week.”

He reacts; obviously stunned by the news. “Holy shit.” Then, “Was that her, that thing at the restaurant?”

“Yes, it was. Now please tell me about the other incidents.”

He shakes his head in amazement; still processing the news he’s just heard. Finally, “They were arguments more than anything else. Really loud arguments, but I didn’t get the feeling it was physical. You understand, I wasn’t prying. I usually heard it when I was walking my dog.”

“I understand. Did you get a sense of what they were arguing about?”

“Not really. One time I heard him yell, ‘You’ll do it my way.’ Or, ‘You’ll do what you’re told.’ Something like that; it was hard to tell exactly.”

“But that night was different?”

He nods. “Yes. She screamed, like she was in pain, or like she had been hit. Was I right?”

“It works better if I ask the questions,” I say. Then, “You were right.”

He nods sadly. “How can guys do stuff like that?”

“That’s not something I have an answer for. Do you know if she had any close friends in the neighborhood?”

He shrugs. “I have no idea. This area isn’t like that, you know? I mean, basically we wave to each other. But that could be just me; maybe everybody is close but they shut me out.” He shakes his head. “But I don’t think so.”

“LET’S start with Gerald Kline,” Sam Willis says.

Sam is giving his report on what he has learned about Kline and Lisa Yates from his relatively quick computer search. Once again we’re having this meeting at Laurie’s house, in deference to Simon and Tara’s close relationship. Since Tara and Simon have long ago been “fixed,” as a doting parent I can be confident that their friendship will remain platonic.

Laurie has prevailed on Andy to go out and get us some pizzas. He wasn’t thrilled about it, but he certainly prefers it to being involved in our case. Andy is wealthy; I’m told it’s as a result of an inheritance, as well as some lucrative cases. Not having to work, he has become a lawyer who tries to avoid lawyering at all costs.

“Kline lives in Ridgewood,” Sam says, “house is worth two million seven. He’s a headhunter; he recruits people for jobs in the medical services industry. But he does more than that; I’m not sure how to describe it yet.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, he gives seminars. People pay to come hear him speak, sometimes for an entire weekend. They have lectures, workshops, that kind of stuff. As far as I can tell, it’s all tied in. The people are there to learn how to make themselves good prospects for jobs. How to interview, do a résumé, learn about the industry, et cetera.”

“Does he recruit from the people at his seminars?” Laurie asks.

Sam shrugs. “Not sure; no way to tell from what I’m looking at. Kline has his own firm; it’s just Kline, his partner, and one assistant.

“He seems to do very well; his net worth just from what I can find is in excess of seven million dollars. There could be a lot more that’s hidden, but I haven’t looked that deep.

“He’s forty-one … never been married. Father is deceased, mother lives in Toledo, where he grew up. No siblings. Got an undergraduate degree from Stony Brook, MBA from Marshall.

“One interesting item: in the last two months he’s cashed three checks, two for nine thousand dollars and one for seven thousand. Not sure what he did with the cash, but that’s not surprising. The main reason to use cash is to avoid records. The main reason for doing it in nine–thousand-dollar increments is that the bank is required to report ten-thousand-dollar-and-higher cash transactions to the government.”

“How do you know about the cashed checks?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

“I accessed his bank records.”

“Legally?”

“Oops. I tried to stay on this side of the line, but sometimes the line is blurred.”

“If you see a blurry line, you probably shouldn’t cross it. Anything else on Kline?”

“Not so far. You want to hear about Lisa Yates?”

“Of course.”

“She was thirty-six when she died; would have been thirty-seven today.”

Laurie shakes her head in sadness. I know that she’s feeling, in the grand scheme of life, it is utterly meaningless that today is Lisa Yates’s birthday, but it still feels extra-awful.

Sam continues, “She was born in Garfield and grew up there. She went to Rutgers and got a BA in computer science. She taught computer programming for a while and then three years ago she went to work for Ardmore Medical Systems.”

“What is that?”

“It’s apparently a firm that tracks and maintains medical records. You know how when you go to a specialist they already have your records? Ardmore facilitates that process. They probably do a lot more than that; I just haven’t gotten into it.”

“You said Kline recruited in the health-care industry. Did he place her in that job?”

“I don’t know. I would have no way to access that. Moving right along, she’s lived on Derrom Avenue in Paterson for the past two and a half years.”

“That’s where I met her,” I say.

“But strangely, it looks like she’s been living in a motel in East Rutherford for the past month.”

“What makes you say that?” Laurie asks.

“She’s paid for it for that long. I suppose she could have been paying for someone else, but it

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