“Call me Eric, please. I’m retired.”
Daphne smiled. “You know, I’d have made you for a cop on sight. You’ve got that look about you. My brother was a state trooper.”
“The look?” Eric asked. But I knew exactly what Daphne meant. Eric always seemed at attention whenever we went out. Always completely situationally aware. Vigilant.
“Whenwasthe last time you had any contact with Maisy?” I asked.
Daphne kissed her dog on the head and set it down. The dog yipped once, then dashed under the nearest end table and observed the proceedings.
“Give it a rest, Toto,” she said. A fitting name. That’s exactly who the dog reminded me of. “Maisy? Oh, it’s been almost two years. She got evicted from her apartment. She was still living back in Michigan, in Highland Park. I let her stay with me for a few weeks until she figured out a different living situation.”
“Why was she evicted?” Eric asked.
“She said her landlord was going to convert the property into a storage unit. Which might have been true. I don’t know. But Maisy pretty much got evicted from every place she’s ever lived. She’ll fall behind on rent. Or she’ll cause some sort of scene and when her lease comes up, she doesn’t get renewed.”
“Scene?” I asked.
“Look,” Daphne said. “My sister’s always been kind of a fruitcake. If I’m being kind, I’ll call her eccentric. But Maisy doesn’t have a firm grip on reality. She hasn’t for a really long time. Even when we were kids. She’d make up these stories. Once she tried to convince us she was having a sexting relationship with Brad Pitt. Another time, she said she’d been scouted by this big deal movie producer who wanted to make a movie of her life story. Or she’d written part of a book that Oprah Winfrey got a hold of and was going to make her abestseller. And those were the mild ones. She’d claim to be reincarnated. She was Catherine of Aragon or Joan of Arc. Bette Davis one time. She went through a Wonder Woman phase and went around in cosplay. That was actually the most normal and healthy phase she went through.”
“That must have been rough growing up,” I said.
“I used to be embarrassed. Kids are mean. But I got used to it. It got easier when Maisy moved out of our parents’ house. She could never hold jobs for very long. Yet somehow she always managed to land on her feet. She’d hook up with some guy who’d take care of her for a while. Then, she actually won the lottery. Half a million bucks. Can you believe that? But she blew through it in less than two years.”
Eric took out a photo of Tom Loomis and handed it to Daphne. “You understand why we’re here. You’ve read about this man’s murder.”
Daphne looked at the photo and handed it back. “Sure,” she said. “These were Maisy’s milder obsessions. She was starstruck by anybody on television. Like I told you on the phone. I don’t remember this man specifically. Over the years, I tended to ignore Maisy’s latest rabbit hole, you know? It was exhausting.”
“When she lived with you,” I said. “She never mentioned Tom Loomis?”
“She might have. I’m sorry. But this is what I mean. I let that stuff go in one ear and out the other. Do you really think she could have something to do with this man’s death?”
“Do you?” Eric asked.
Daphne looked wistfully out of her front window. “I don’t know. That would be hard for me to believe. Maisy’swhackadoo. But she’s harmless. She would cross boundaries. I’m not saying she didn’t. When she went to that newsman’s mother’s funeral, that was horrifying. But she didn’t hurt anybody. In her own, weird way, she thought she was being kind.”
“At one point, the station tried to pursue a protection order.”
“I’m not surprised. I’m only surprised there aren’t more of them.”
“No one but us has ever come to talk to you about Maisy’s behavior?” I asked. “In connection with any criminal case anyway.”
“No. Sure, when we were kids, my parents were always called into meetings with her teachers and stuff. My parents were infuriating though. Never took her to a doctor. Got her medication. They were kind of hokey. They only believed in holistic treatments. I didn’t get vaccinated until I was seventeen and got emancipated. My dad died of colon cancer at forty-two because he ignored symptoms and refused medical care. My mom died at sixty from complications of diabetes and she refused to get treated. That’s what I’ve been dealing with my whole life.”
“You’re a strong woman,” Eric said.
“I guess. And I really am sorry. I don’t know where Maisy is. It’s possible she could have escalated after she left my house the last time. She usually reaches out to me when she’s in trouble. And she has asked for help. Professional help. She knows when she’s starting to spiral. But she never sticks to anything. My mom and dad’s influence has extended beyond the grave,unfortunately.”
“Is it out of her normal pattern to have tried to reconnect with someone like Tom Loomis after she’d moved on to someone else? We know that she emailed Tom as recently as a year ago. There was a several-year gap from her last contact with him. And we know she became obsessed with Asher Davis in between.”
“Yes,” Daphne said. “That I can say. It wouldn’t be Maisy’s typical pattern to go back to a previous obsession. Whatever the reason, when she fell out of love, if that’s what you call it, with one public figure, she’d actually go to the opposite extreme. Like when she got over Brad Pitt and moved on to Keanu Reeves, I think it was … she’d throw a fit if a Brad Pitt movie came on. That sort of thing. I really am sorry. That is all I can tell you. I don’t know where she was when this man was murdered.”
“It’s okay,” I said as Eric and I rose to leave. We’d bothered this woman enough. “But I’d like you to keep my card. If you hear from Maisy or can think of anything else, please give me a call.”
She took the card but shrugged. I expected her to toss it into a pile and promptly forget about it after we left. We thanked her again and said our goodbyes.
As Eric climbed behind the wheel, he had a scowl on his face.
“What is it?” I asked. “What’s bothering you?”
