Every Move You Make by M. William Phelps Page A

Lisa’s to explain to her that she needed to come with him to Bureau headquarters to give a formal written statement. Their relationship the past six weeks had been building. They were beginning to trust each other. Horton wasn’t denying that. Still, he needed to have most of what they had talked about down on paper in case Evans was picked up. There was no way to know what kind of spell Evans had cast on Lisa and how it would play out if Evans was ever arrested. Moreover, Horton wasn’t all that sure Lisa hadn’t been in contact with Evans all along. Once the courts got involved and lawyered Evans up, Lisa would be considered a witness. Getting her to agree to give a written statement now would secure her testimony, or at least get her to admit to some things on paper so prosecutors could call her on them later.
    There were times when Lisa had been picked up by the local police for getting drunk and harassing old boyfriends with threatening phone calls. Horton had used his pull to bail her out of trouble a number of times. He had even been giving her money out of his own pocket when she had little food in the house for Christina. But those days were over. It was time she came clean with exactly what she knew—no more excuses, no more playing stupid, no more acting as though she were the innocent girlfriend. She knew more than she was saying, a cop with Horton’s experience and nearly two decades of service knew better.
    Late in the day on December 4, 1997, Horton picked Lisa up at her apartment and drove her to Bureau headquarters. “Trust me on this, Lisa,” he said as they made their way. “This will be liberating for you. You’ll feel better.”
    When they arrived, Sully and Horton sat Lisa down in the interrogation room, read her her Miranda rights to her, and began to ask what she knew about Evans. She was fragile and scared, no doubt feeling like she was about to betray Evans.
    Horton sat across from her during certain parts of the interview, but would get up occasionally and pace the floor in front of her, while Sully sat directly next to her and wrote down everything she said.
    Lisa took sips of water in between talking about her relationship with Evans, and, surprisingly, everything she knew about his “business partnership” with Tim.
    “So, you told me you last saw Gary,” Horton asked at one point, “on Sunday, October 5, 1997…right?”
    Lisa looked away for a moment, paused and took out a cigarette. “I didn’t tell you everything I know about Gary,” she said. “I said I didn’t know Tim Rysedorph.”
    “Go on.”
    “I do know Tim.”
    As Lisa spoke, it became apparent that Evans had given her just enough information regarding his latest string of burglaries to flavor what Horton and the Bureau already knew. For instance, they had suspected Evans of a break-in at Jennifer House Commons, an antique-store barn in Great Barrington, Massachusetts. Sure enough, Lisa confirmed that Evans had done the job, but also, she said, burned the place to the ground before he left.
    “Gary told me he did that job with his ‘partner,’” Lisa said, unwavering in her tone, “who I believe to be Tim Rysedorph.”
    She was a bit angry with Evans, she continued, for burning the place down because she loved to go shopping there with him. They had frequently taken drives to Great Barrington to scope out antiques Evans would later steal for her. In what sounded like a scene out of a Hollywood movie, Evans told Lisa he simply burglarized the place, poured a few gallons of gasoline on the wooden floor of the barn, dropped a match, and walked away laughing. In minutes, it was engulfed in flames, burning like dry hay.
    There was another job Evans admitted he had done by himself. In back of Jennifer House was a green building, sort of a secured storage area where antique dealers kept valuables they were either holding for a particular customer or didn’t want to sell. Evans had cased the place for months,