Burnt River (15 page)

“You’ve done worse.”

“Yeah, but that was because I was taking orders. No one carries that stuff on their back if they have a choice.” He held up a cylinder. “These bad boys weigh less and are a hell of a lot more reliable. Plus I can slip them right down in the existing cracks in the cliff. No need to drill bore holes.”

“You ever heard of some hot springs about twenty miles north of town?”

“That’s a new one on me. Why?”

“Jessie found a map in her mother’s room.”

“Seems like Jessie has more important things to think about.”

“That’s what I said.”

“What’s your read on her?”

“She’s going through hell.”

“Did you ask her about Ethan?”

“Yeah, but she’s still saying she doesn’t remember anything.”

“At this point I just want to know that she’s going to keep her mouth shut.”

“That’s not a problem. She doesn’t want to drag us down with her. I get the impression she’ll be relieved once the cliff is blown.”

“You seeing her today?”

“Yeah, I think half of Wilmington Creek is heading up to the ranch. You coming?”

“My mom wants us to go as a family, so I’ll wait until my dad gets off work.”

“How’s Connor taking it?”

“I have no idea. He’s gone quiet like he’s thinking it over. I’m not sure how much he understands.”

13

Aiden yawned. “Hey, you want more coffee?”

Macy threw Charlie Lott’s photo on the table. He was heavyset, with long dark hair that was parted in the middle. A beard covered half his face. There was really no telling what he looked like without it.

“At this point the only thing that’s going to help is going back to sleep.”

“Sorry. The whiskey was my idea.”

“It’s not like I needed much convincing.” She looked at her phone. “I’m surprised there’s been no word on the DNA.”

“Given the state of John’s truck and number of cigarette butts in that alleyway, I’d say they’ve got their hands full. It might be a few days yet.”

Macy flipped through the case file again. “Lana wasn’t exaggerating.”

“I have to admit that I was dubious, but it seems she had just cause to be alarmed.”

“I might be reaching here but I’ve just had a thought. Mr. Walker’s dog died the day John was murdered. He said it had a tendency to bark.”

“You’re thinking it could have been poisoned, too?”

“If Charlie Lott was willing to poison his girlfriend’s dog, it stands to reason he wouldn’t hesitate to kill one he had no attachment to. It’s buried in the side yard.”

“Are you thinking we should dig it up and run some tests?”

“I’m not sure. Dogs die all the time from natural causes. It doesn’t seem right to distress Mr. Walker unless we have more reason to believe it’s related.”

“Well, let’s say you’re right about the dogs. There are no other parallels. No one got shot in Georgia.”

“Lana wasn’t seeing anyone new then, so maybe Charlie was content with following her and leaving little gifts so she knew she was being watched.”

“But then it suddenly escalates. Within a week of vandalizing her car and setting fire to her porch, he poisons her dog. No wonder she ran. That’s some scary shit.”

“She’s probably still scared. That sort of fear never really goes away.”

He tapped the photo of Charlie Lott. “We need to find him.”

Macy pushed her chair away from the table. “You know, looking through these reports, I’m kind of surprised she was granted a restraining order. There’s nothing in these files that ties her ex-boyfriend directly to the incidents. The night her house was set on fire, his friends say he was out with them.”

“All the more reason to track him down and eliminate him as a possibility. When is your phone call with Lana’s case officer?”

Macy checked the time. “In ten minutes. I’ll take it back at the office. Do you mind giving the lab a shout? You’ll want to speak to Priscilla Jones. She may have something preliminary to tell us. Also chase up the sketch artist. Robert’s been with Jean and Lana for the past hour.”

“Will do.”

“Has the state sent over a list of firefighters who’ve been working in the area?”

“A preliminary one. There are a few guys named Nick. Given the number of fires, there’s been a lot of influx from other states. They’re compiling various lists.”

She stood. “When I’ve finished on the phone I want to talk to Bob Crawley.”

“I spoke to him this morning. He has an alibi for the night John was killed. A certain Ms. Angela Hutton will vouch for his whereabouts.”

“That needs to be followed up. Given his resources he can afford to create a pretty sound alibi.”

“His wife and kids are out of town, so I said we’d come see him up at his place.”

“And here I was thinking you were going to haul him downtown and be tough on him.”

“I’m telling you now he’s not our guy.”

“You might miss something important if you don’t keep an open mind.”

He picked up his hat and slid it back on his head. “I could say the same thing about you.”

*   *   *

Aiden offered to drive and Macy let him have his way. He was the local police chief. Traveling in the passenger seat probably didn’t suit his image, but she balked when he tried to open the door for her.

“Seriously, it feels like the 1950s around here.”

“Nothing wrong with good manners.”

“How long is the drive?”

“It’s about a half hour east of town.”

It was over a hundred degrees in the interior of his car. Macy started pushing buttons on the dashboard. “Which one of these turns on the air conditioner?”

Aiden reached over and adjusted a dial. “It will cool off in a few minutes. Quit acting like a child.”

“If that were the case I’d report you to social services. I could die in here.”

“Keep it up and I’ll make you walk.”

“So, now you’re all tough.”

He shuffled through some papers on the seat between them. “I tracked down the sketch artist. His handiwork is somewhere in this mess.”

Macy held up the composite sketch of the firefighter who’d been harassing Lana. “I need to speak to Robert. Lately he’s making all my suspects look like evil geniuses. Beady-eyed, bald, and sporting a goatee. Hardly original.”

“I sent a PDF over to the Forestry Service. He should be easy to pick out.”

“Any luck with the lab?”

“Nothing so far. That woman Priscilla practically bit my head off.”

“That’s why I had you call. Any idea when she’ll get back to us?”

“She was pretty stressed. I didn’t want to press her.”

“Anything on ballistics?”

“They didn’t return my call.”

Macy adjusted the vent to the air conditioner so it was blowing away from her. “Great, now it’s freezing.”

“How was the phone call with Lana’s case officer back in Georgia?”

“Brief.”

“Why’s that?”

“There wasn’t much to say that wasn’t in the report. When I pressed him he did agree that the evidence on the ex-boyfriend was flimsy, but given that Lott had publically threatened Lana in the past they had just cause to suspect it was him. Just so you know, there’s also a history of prescription drug abuse.”

“That’s no surprise. It seems to be the scourge of rural America at the moment. Did he give you any ideas as to where we might find Mr. Lott?”

“It turns out he has a paternal grandmother who lives out near Spokane. A few years back he listed her as an emergency contact on an employment application.”

“That’s only a couple hours’ drive.”

“It does bring him within a comfortable range. I still find it weird that he’s been off the radar for so long. Lana’s case officer did a quick follow-up. No one has been in contact with him for a couple of months.”

“Time to call Granny.”

“I tried. There was no answer. I’ve contacted the authorities in Spokane. They’re sending over a couple of uniforms.”

“Very efficient use of your time.” He pointed out the front window. “You see that lake down there?”

“Yep, what am I looking at?”

“Well, Bob Crawley owns it and pretty much everything else between here and the Idaho border.”

“Lots of places to hide a body down there.”

“Well, I guess that’s one way to look at a beautiful view.”

*   *   *

A restored railroad car served as a gatehouse at the entrance of the Crawley property. Three security cameras were visible and there were two guards on duty. A long, poplar-lined driveway led to a house designed to blend into the sage green hills behind it. Hazy reflections of the Whitefish Range were reflected in the three-story front windows. In places Macy could see straight through to the swimming pool in the backyard. Unlike the rest of the landscape it sparkled an unnatural emerald blue. Bob Crawley answered the door in a pair of swimming trunks and a T-shirt. Slim and surprisingly young-looking considering he was fifty-six, he had bare feet and he held tight to the collar of a large yellow mastiff that tried to jump up on Aiden.

He shook Aiden’s hand. “I think Buster must have taken a liking to you when you came out to the barbecue last month.”

“May have been that hamburger I fed him.”

“That will do the trick.”

“Bob, this is Detective Macy Greeley. She’s been put in charge of the homicide investigation.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Detective Greeley. I’m just sorry it wasn’t under better circumstances.”

“We appreciate your cooperation.” Macy looked past him toward the pool. A woman was sunbathing topless in one of the deck chairs. “Is that Ms. Hutton?”

“The one and only. She’s an old family friend.”

“We need to speak to her as well.”

“She’s leaving for New York in the morning so you’ll have to be quick.”

“Aiden, do you mind?”

Aiden slipped his sunglasses back on and headed for the sliding glass doors with Buster trailing behind him. “Not at all.”

“You and Ms. Hutton were together on Thursday night?”

“Yes, we had dinner here. I never left the property that evening. I’ll make sure my assistant gives you access to the security tapes.”

“That’s very helpful. As you can imagine, we need to follow every lead. Is there somewhere we can talk?”

“We’ll go to my office.”

Bob Crawley had a youthful complexion and a mane of blond hair that he was constantly flipping back with one hand, yet he had both the money and the manners of someone considerably older. She took a chair opposite him and tried not to be distracted by the beautiful view and the exquisite furnishings. She’d spotted a Picasso as they walked in. She doubted it was a print.

“Mr. Crawley—”

He held up a hand. “My father is Mr. Crawley. Please just call me Bob.”

“I understand you’ve been in a extramarital relationship with Lana Clark since April of this year.”

“Am I really a suspect? I can prove that I was here.”

“You have resources most people can only dream of. I have to consider it’s a possibility, regardless of how remote, that you arranged John’s murder.”

“Money, yes. Motive, no. My relationship with Lana wasn’t serious. She’s a beautiful girl who likes to have a good time. End of story. Ask Lana if you don’t believe me.”

“I did ask Lana.”

“So you know.”

“Maybe you grew a little too fond of her?”

Bob Crawley stared at Macy from the other side of the desk. The ready-made smile slid south, along with his youthful features. He suddenly looked very tired. There was strain in his eyes she hadn’t noticed before.

“I had nothing to do with John Dalton’s death. I admired the man. I was hoping he’d run in the upcoming election. Shake things up a bit.”

“I’m sure you of all people will appreciate that it’s my job to check everything thoroughly. I need to look at the security footage and speak to your staff.”

“Do whatever it takes. I just want this to be cleared up as soon as possible.”

“We’ll arrange for a video technician to come up this afternoon. We can interview your staff today as well. Do you keep guns on the property?”

“Yes, but they’re under lock and key. To my knowledge, none have been fired for months. You are welcome to have a look.”

“Thank you for cooperating. What are your security arrangements?”

“Aside from the alarm and video surveillance, I always have someone on site. Why?”

“If John Dalton was murdered because of his involvement with Lana, it follows that you may be a target as well.”

“But we’ve been very discreet.”

“I’m sure you have, but like it or not your name is out there now. It worries me. Therefore it should worry you.”

He rubbed his temples. “And I thought I just had my wife to deal with.”

“I’m afraid it might not be that easy.”

“You’ve never met my wife.”

Macy paused. “Do you mind if I ask you a personal question? I mean no disrespect and it’s completely off the record. Feel free to tell me to go to hell.”

“Shoot.”

“If you’re so unhappy why don’t you just end your marriage? I’m sure there are plenty of other girls like Lana out there.”

“Do you want the long answer or the short answer?”

“The short answer is fine.”

“I love my wife. I’d be lost without her.”

“And yet you’re willing to risk losing her by seeing other women.”

“If I really believed there was a risk I’d never take it.”

“So, she’ll forgive you?”

“It’s bumpy for a bit but she always comes around.”

“You’re a lucky man.”

“I know I am.” He paused. “But having an affair doesn’t make me a murderer.”

Macy fiddled with her pen. “When are your wife and children returning home?”

“On Saturday.”

“Can they prolong their trip until this is cleared up?”

“Yes, I’m sure that’s possible.”

“In the meantime you may also want to take extra security precautions.”

“Of course.”

“Have you noticed anything unusual? It could be as simple as feeling like you’re being followed.”

He sat back and folded his hands in his lap. “There may have been an attempted break-in a couple weeks back.”

“Aiden didn’t mention it.”

“It wasn’t reported.”

“Tell me what happened?”