Terminal 9 (11 page)

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable.”

Unfazed, Mac continued. “Do you know of anyone who might benefit from your father's death?”

She sighed. “Unfortunately, yes. My father was worth a lot of money—probably in the millions. As his daughter, I would inherit something, I suppose. Though we really don't need the money. Dad probably left something to my brother, but he's been estranged from the family for years.”

“Do you have any idea where we might find your brother?”

She wrapped her hands around one knee and looked at a spot on the rug. “Jacob isn't good about keeping in touch. Unfortunately, he's been in and out of trouble since he was a teenager. Not serious stuff. I think the worst was a drunk driving charge a few years ago.”

Mac jotted the information down. “If he's in the system, we may be able to track him.”

“He and Dad had their differences, but Jacob isn't a killer. I can't imagine him ever hurting Dad.”

“Can you think of anyone who might?”

Kelly paused for a moment. “Well, there's a real-estate developer who's been trying to buy the land. Dad refused to sell, and the developer actually came here and tried to talk me into having Dad declared incompetent so we could sell the land to her. She offered to pay us a premium.”

Dana raised her eyebrows but didn't comment.

“And what was your reaction?” Mac asked.

“We were appalled. Ray and I threatened to file a complaint against her, and we basically kicked her out. I couldn't believe it. Makes me wonder how far people will go to get what they want.”

“Can you give me her name?”

“Gladly.” She went into the kitchen and pulled open a drawer.

After rummaging around, she produced a card. “Here you go.

Reagan McCloud.”

“You kept her card? I'm surprised you didn't toss it.” Mac slipped it into his jacket pocket.

Kelly looked at Mac a moment before finally saying, “I don't know—maybe I was thinking I'd better hang on to it in case there was a problem.”

He nodded and glanced at Dana, who seemed a world away.

“Not everyone liked my father, Detective. He was always good to me, but he and my brother were like two pit bulls, always fighting. Of course, Jacob could be a handful. He was born rebellious. Not that he'd do anything to hurt Dad. Like I said before, Jacob would never hurt anyone. You've probably already heard about the guys down at the terminal. Dad was always going on about how the new guys weren't doing the job right—especially Dan Mason. I'm surprised the guy is still working there.”

“We're planning to talk with Mr. Mason later today.”

“Good.” She rubbed her hands together as if they were cold. “You should talk to Rita too. She is—she was Dad's housekeeper. I wonder if anyone has told her about Dad.”

“Housekeeper? Does she work every day?” Mac hoped the police were still maintaining the integrity of the house.

“Um—twice a week, I think.”

“Do you have Rita's last name?”

She rubbed her forehead. “It was Hispanic, um—Gonzales, I think. Rita is a very nice lady. She's been working for Dad for ten years now.”

“All right. Thanks. Shouldn't be too hard to locate her.”

Kelly glanced at her watch. “I really should be getting back to work.”

“Before you go, we'd like to get your consent to search your father's house. We're hoping that will help shed some light on what happened to him.”

“Of course.” She hesitated. “Well, on second thought, I think I'll hold up on that.”

“We can get a warrant,” Mac told her.

“I know. It's just that . . . I don't want to be too hasty. I need a chance to think.”

“I understand.”

“Was there anything else?” she asked.

“Not really,” Mac said. “At this point we're just doing a preliminary investigation and waiting on the autopsy report.”

“Oh, right.” Kelly frowned. “I should call and make arrangements with the funeral home. I'm not thinking clearly.”

“Have you been in touch with your father's lawyer?”

“You mean Addison Shaw?” She sneered. “Humph. That guy is a joke. A few years ago, I offered to take care of Dad's legal affairs, but Dad wasn't comfortable with that. He felt his legal affairs should be separate from family. He's right, I suppose, but the guy he hired is a shyster if I've ever seen one.”

“In what way?” Mac asked.

“Oh, nothing specific. He just reminds me of a snake.” She bit her lip. “I shouldn't be saying that. The poor man is probably just trying to make a living. I'm most likely being paranoid. But you know how it is—some people you trust, and some you just don't. I only met him once, so it's not really fair of me to be so negative.”

“We'll talk with him as well.” He turned to Dana. “Can you think of anything else?”

“Not right now. We may be calling you later though.” Dana stood when Mac did.

“I'm not going anywhere,” Kelly assured the detectives. “If you'll hold on a minute, I'll give you my card. It has my office and cell phone, as well as my home number.”

Kelly went into another room and came out with a card for each of them. “Let me know if there is anything I can do. I'm glad you're looking into Dad's death. He was an old man and it could have been an accident, but . . .”

“There are enough circumstances to make us take a closer look,”

Mac finished.

“Exactly.”

Dana paused on the way out. “There is one thing, Kelly. We may want to interview your husband as well.”

“Ray?” She seemed genuinely surprised. “I'm sure he wouldn't mind. Though he's extremely busy.” She frowned. “If you're thinking Ray had anything to do with my father's death, you can forget it. For one thing, he has back-to-back medical conferences out of town. He's been in Philadelphia this past week and just got home last night.”

“When is the best time to call him?”

“There really isn't a good time. I'd suggest you call his cell and leave a message.” She slipped back inside and came out with a number written on the back of his professional card.
Raymond
Cassidy, M.D. Internal Medicine, Oregon Health Sciences University.
“I'll let him know you want to talk to him.”

“Thanks.” Mac slipped the card in his pocket. “Appreciate your cooperation.”

“ WHAT'S YOUR TAKE ON HER?” Dana asked Mac as they headed back to the office.

Mac shrugged. “She seemed down to earth, nice for a lawyer.”

“A little too nice, if you ask me.” Dana chewed on the inside of her cheek. “She's hiding something, Mac.”

“And you know this because . . .”

“Intuition.” Dana tossed him a knowing grin. “Plain old intuition. That and the fact that she didn't want to okay us searching her father's house.”

“I'm sure Sergeant Evans will be thrilled to hear about your
feelings
on the matter.”

“Well, I just hope that if this is more than an accident, we come up with something soon.”

Mac agreed. He hoped the hard, fast evidence would show up before they were forced to drop the case.

ELEVEN

W
E NEED TO GET HOLD OF JACOB MLLLINS and see what he's been up to the past few days.” Mac's pager vibrated and he pulled it off his belt. Checking the digital readout, he said, “It's the medical examiner's office. Would you mind calling so I don't run us off the road?”

“Sure.” Dana pulled her phone from her purse and punched in the number to Kristen's office. While Mac mumbled about the potholes in the road, Dana pulled a notepad and pen from her briefcase. He could drive and talk just fine, regardless of the road conditions. He just didn't want to talk to Kristen.

“This is Detective Bennett with OSP. May I speak with Dr. Thorpe? I'm calling about the Mullins case.”

“Hey, Dana,” Kristen answered moments later. “Thanks for getting back to me so soon.”

“Just call us rough and ready.” Dana glanced at Mac, who seemed a little too intent on maneuvering the car. “What's up?”

“Nothing much, just some preliminary lab results on Mr. Mullins's toxicology screen. No unlawful drugs on board, just some prescription meds. We expected those from his doctor's fax.”

“So you're ruling his death accidental?” Dana chewed her lower lip, disappointed that her intuition might not be correct.

“Not yet. The initial blood work indicates some liver damage. I won't know the extent of that without more tests. There's something else bothering me too.”

“Oh yeah?”

Dana held a hand up at Mac's questioning look, indicating she'd tell him later.

“I'm concerned about the tissue around the injection sites for his insulin shots. The flesh around some of the needle marks have decayed to a degree that's accelerated far beyond what I'd expect for postmortem decay.”

“No kidding. What would cause something like that?”

“I'm not sure. I'm not overly concerned about it yet, but I want to run a few more tests before I give old Clay a clean bill of health.”

Dana chuckled at the phrase. “I'll let Mac know.”

“You do that.” She hesitated. “Dana, I was wondering . . . are you and Mac—you know, dating or anything?”

“No.” Dana's tone came off sharper than she intended. “Why do you ask?” The question irritated her. Part of her wanted Mac to find someone, but part of her liked him too much to give him up completely. Which was totally selfish. She'd made a decision to keep her relationship with Mac strictly business, and she would stick to it. She had no business being jealous.

“I've been thinking about asking him out. Do you think he'd go?”

Dana shrugged. “Maybe. The best way to find out is to ask.”

“Humph. You're no help at all.”

Dana could almost see Kristen pouting, and the picture put her in a teasing mode. The conversation seemed out of character for the unflappable Dr. Thorpe. “Want me to ask him for you?”

“Actually, that would be great. Would you?”

“Sure, hang on a minute.” Dana covered the mouthpiece and glanced over at Mac. “Kristen wants to know if you'll have dinner with her tonight.”

“What?” Gravel crunched under the tires as Mac drifted off the road. He pulled the steering wheel to the left, moving deftly back onto the asphalt.

Dana smiled, enjoying his discomfort. Speaking into the phone again, she said, “He'll be happy to.”

Mac gave her a look that could melt the ice off a glacier.

“Really? Wow. Great. I honestly didn't think it would be that easy.”

Dana wished she could take back her flippant response. What if Mac broke the date? She didn't want Kristen to get hurt. She'd just have to make certain Mac went. “Don't worry about it.”

“Right.” Kristen cleared her throat. “Look, I need to get back to work. Tell Mac to be at my house at seven or so. If he'll call before he comes, I'll give him directions.”

“Will do. Keep us posted on Mr. Mullins.”

Mac's lips had tightened, as had his grip on the steering wheel.

Dana blew out a long breath. “Come on, Mac,” she said, hoping to soothe things over. “I know you've been wanting to go out with Kristen. I just hurried things along a little. You're supposed to be at her house at seven. She said for you to call before you come and she'll give you directions.”

“I don't need a dating service,” he growled.

“I'm sorry. I just got caught up in the moment.”

“I should make you call her back and cancel.”

“But you won't. Come on, partner.” Dana's rosy cheeks dimpled. “You like her and you know it. You don't want to hurt her feelings any more than I do.”

Mac shook his head. “Okay, I'll go, but don't set me up with anyone else. It's definitely not in your job description, and I definitely don't want it to be.”

“Duly noted.” Dana glanced at her notes, barely hiding her amusement.

“Did Doc Thorpe have anything earth-shattering to say about Mullins?” Mac asked, wanting to bridge the uncomfortable space. He wasn't sure how he felt about seeing Kristen outside of work. In a way the prospect appealed to him. Trouble was, the woman intimidated him. She was not only eccentric, but she was smart—actually, brilliant, according to Kevin. Mac dismissed his discomfort and focused on Dana's report.

Dana went over Kristen's concerns. “She's not ready to give us a cause of death. Says she wants to run a few more tests at the crime lab before she gives the guy a clean bill of health.”

Mac raised a brow at the comment.

“Her words, not mine.” Dana grinned.

“Good. That buys us more time. I really want to get into that house. Especially with what we've learned about Clay.”

“Too bad we couldn't get consent from Clay's daughter to search the house. Wouldn't that have saved us some time?”

“Not necessarily. Legally, the house isn't hers. And we have no idea whether or not Mullins left the house to her. We still have a sibling out there who's undoubtedly going to start making claims, and there may be others hiding in the bushes. There may also be property at the home that doesn't belong to Mullins or his family— the maid, for instance, may have items there.”

“Great. There's nothing like a lot of loose threads. How about I work on the missing son while we're driving? I'll call the Salem office and see if we can't get a phone number and address.”

“Go for it.”Now that the road had evened out, Mac took out his phone and dialed the D.A.'s office in St. Helens. “Anything new going on out there I should know about?”

“Not a thing,” Volk responded. “I'm still working on finding a judge to sign the warrant, but there's only one judge in today and he's got a full caseload this afternoon. I should be able to talk to him around four.”