Deadfall (36 page)

Troy leashed the dogs. “Nice shot, boss.”

The bear had been shot behind the front left leg. “Not bad, huh?” Jaycee slapped Mac on the left shoulder. “Will this do it for you?”

“Perfect.” Mac forced a smile. “He'll make a fine mount.”

“No pictures.” Jaycee cautioned. “I'm sure you understand.”

“Didn't even bring a camera. Thanks for the hunt.” Mac shook Jaycee's hand, trying to look as thrilled with the shot as Jaycee did.

“I'll start to field dress it, Troy. Why don't you go get your truck? There's a skid road not far from here. We won't have much of a drag to the truck.”

“You got it, boss.” Troy began his hike back to the cabin with the dogs.

So far, so good. Mac breathed a little easier now.

“You're okay with a my taking out the gall, right?” Jaycee pulled a large-bladed knife with a gut hook on the end from his pack.

“Sure, just be surgical about it. Don't poke around any more than you have to, or I'll hear about it from my taxidermist.”

“No problem.” Jaycee chuckled. “I've had a lot of experience.”

I'll bet.

Jaycee field dressed the bear, laying his prized inky-black gallbladder in a plastic container before placing it in his canvas bag. Troy arrived soon after Jaycee finished dressing the bear.

Mac watched as the two men used a ratcheted come-along winch and some cable to drag the bear to the pickup. He watched for any potential evidence from the carcass, not wanting a bullet falling out from the bear.

It took all three of them to lift the bear into the back of Troy's truck, even with the help of a winch.

Out of breath, Jacyee leaned against the tailgate. “Okay, Steve.

Troy will get you to where you need to go. It's best if you don't get any blood in the back of your own rig. For an extra hundred, Troy can skin the bear and flesh out the skull if you want it scored.

There's no one quicker with a skinning blade.”

“Thanks, Jaycee.” Mac shook his hand. “This was awesome. I can see us doing business for years to come.”

“Good to meet you, Steve. You can go through Troy for future hunts or contact me directly. Troy can give you the number. Just tell me you want to go hunting and I'll meet you in person. I don't set up details over the phone—I'm sure you understand.”

“Completely.”

Jaycee went back to his hounds, disappearing into the thick woods, his flashlight flickering between the shrubs and tree trunks.

“He's walking back?” Mac asked.

“Yep.” Troy jumped onto the bed and covered the bear with a blue tarp, securing it with brown twine. “He's the original mountain man.” After taking a drink of water from an old milk jug,Troy got into the driver's side and started the truck.

Mac unloaded his rifle and placed it in the back of the seat, relief washing over him. His knees started to buckle as he climbed into the truck.

Troy drove back to the cabin in just a few minutes. It had taken them over an hour to walk through the woods.

“You get what you came for?” Troy asked.

“I don't know yet. Give me my phone.”

Troy pointed to the glove box. Mac retrieved the phone and called Kevin, who was waiting at the base of the Bridge of the Gods in Cascade Locks.

“It's about time you made contact. I've been worried sick,”

Kevin said.

“You have?” Mac chuckled. “I didn't know you cared.”

“Smart-mouth.” Kevin then asked, “How was the hunt?”

“Great. We have a bear, hopefully with Jaycee's bullet inside. Hey, Kev. Meet me back in Corbett at the Grange. Bring me some coffee and a bottle of water. And bring Chris. We need a game officer to go through the carcass.”

Troy and Mac pulled into the Grange parking lot to find Kevin and Chris already there, leaning against the undercover truck. Two patrol troopers were also waiting in the lot—Mac's cover if things had gone sour. Sergeant Frank Evans pulled in moments later, covered in mud. His car reeked of hot brakes.

“You okay?” Frank asked Mac.

“Fine, Sarge. Hungry for bear?” Mac pulled back the tarp.

“Nice one.” Chris hopped into the back of the truck. “Did things go as planned?”

“By the numbers, Chris, thanks. Our guy put a round in with his revolver, and he's back in his cabin by now. I couldn't tell you how to get there, but Mr. Wilson can.”

“Our plane has a pretty good lock on the position of the cabin, thanks to the GPS you were carrying. They made note of any positions when you weren't mobile,” Kevin said.

“I can give you directions,” Troy added. “Or draw a map.”

“Thanks, Troy,” Mac said. “That would be a big help.”

They really didn't need the map, but Mac appreciated the man's efforts. He retrieved a blank sheet of paper from his briefcase in the clunker truck he'd driven out. “Directions and a map would be great.”

Troy seemed relieved to have something to do.

Mac turned his attention back to the bear. Chris waved a metal detector over the carcass. “There's something in the right shoulder. That's the only read I get. Is that where you shot, Mac?”

“It was.” Mac frowned.

“Let's take a look, I'll tell you if it was one of my bullets right here.” Chris pulled a folding knife from his duty belt and began skinning the bear's shoulder hide. “Here's our entrance behind the left front.” Chris pointed. “Hopefully it's not a through and through, and the detector was just getting a bullet jacket or a fragment.” Chris skinned the bear's other shoulder after the others helped him roll the animal over in the truck. “Shoot. There's an exit wound in the other shoulder.”

“Oh, no.” Mac rubbed a hand over his head.
All that work for
nothing?

“Hand me that metal detector back,” Chris said to Kevin. He waved the handheld device over the bear one more time, this time with no tone. “That's odd.”

“Wave it over the hide that would have been by the exit wound,” Troy suggested as he handed the directions to Mac.

Chris placed the round head of the machine over the bear hide that was lying flat on the truck bed. “Bingo!” Chris yelled as the detector chimed. “Give me some light right here.”

A patrol trooper shined his light on the spot Chris was pointing to while he examined the thick black hide. “There's a bullet lodged in the hide; grab an evidence bag!”

Kevin produced a paper evidence bag from his pocket. Mac grinned at his optimism. Chris pulled a large-caliber bullet from the hide, bloodied by its course. “That's not one of mine, so it must be from the other shooter.”

Mac released the breath he'd been holding as Chris placed the bullet in the evidence bag and handed it back to Kevin.

“Mac and I will be waiting on the front steps of the crime lab when it opens in, what . . .” Kevin looked at his watch. “Seven hours.”

“I'll accompany the bear to our wildlife-evidence freezer at Bonneville,” Chris said, “just in case we need to look it over again.

I'm not getting any other hits and don't see any more wounds. Looks like your round bounced off as planned, Mac.”

“He probably missed,” Frank grumbled.

“Thanks for the confidence, Sarge.” Mac laughed, more from relief than from anything humorous.

“Don't mention it.”

“It gets better. The suspect actually grabbed my rifle after it jammed and wrapped his meat hooks over the top of the barrel and the action. I made sure I didn't touch that part of the gun on the way back, so hopefully latents can lift some prints off it.”

“Good. Now get your rears home and get some sleep. You guys have soaked me for enough overtime already.” Frank slapped Mac on the back as they walked to their vehicles. “You better get working with the D.A. on the phone records for Jaycee's cell phone, Mac. Let them subpoena the cell company so we can find out who this character is.”

Kevin gave Mac a thumbs-up. “See you in the morning, partner.”

On the way home Mac reviewed everything that had transpired, from his first interview with Troy to Chris discovering the bullet. He felt certain Jaycee had killed Brad, but something else niggled at his mind. He thought about the unsolved murder case out at the sawmill and the animal carcasses they'd found buried out there. They figured the ex-con had been poaching. Had he been working for Jaycee? The idea wasn't that farfetched. One thing for certain, he planned to check the fingerprint they'd found on the tape at that scene against Jaycee's.

Maybe he was being too optimistic that the two cases might be related. The chances were slim, but if they were, it meant two successful cases with him as lead detective. He shook his head as he pulled into his driveway. Stranger things had happened. Mac opted not to mention his harebrained scheme to anyone just now. He'd bide his time and let the evidence speak for itself.

32

K
EVIN WAS WAITING in their car in the front of the Justice Center in downtown Portland with the manila evidence bag containing the bullet. Mac had walked across the street for coffee and scones. He returned to the car holding two cups of coffee in his hands and the bag of scones in his teeth.

Kevin rolled the passenger side window down a few inches, making Mac wait in the rain. “You got a pumpkin scone in there?”

“Uh-huh,” Mac mumbled around the paper bag.

“You may enter then.” Kevin smiled and rolled the window all the way down, taking the cups and bag from his partner.

Mac was in too good of a mood to complain.

“Might as well make yourself comfy.” Kevin set the bag on his lap. “The lab doesn't open for a few minutes yet. The crew is probably inside, but the doors don't open up until eight sharp.”

Mac took a sip of hot coffee, staring out the window at the parking lot full of Portland Police Bureau cars. The sub floor of the Justice Center served as the Multnomah County jail, while the first floor was the Bureau's Central Precinct office for their agency.

“Did you get hold of anyone on that cell phone number Troy Wilson gave us for Jaycee?”

“Yep, taken care of.” Mac had dealt with the phone as soon as he'd come into his office at seven that morning. “We'll see what name is on the contract for the phone number he gave. Hopefully it isn't stolen and we can get an idea who this guy is. It was a 541 area code, so I got one of the detectives at Hood River County on one of their contacts, to save us time on getting a grand jury subpoena or writing a warrant.”

“Good work, Mac. I appreciate your being a jump ahead of me.”

Mac wasn't sure what to say. He checked his watch. “We could go in now. It'll be about eight by the time we get to the twelfth floor.”

“Yeah, you're right, but I haven't eaten my scone yet.” Kevin opened the sack and sniffed appreciatively. “Ah. Something to be savored. Not eaten in a rush.”

“So, you want to talk or something?” Mac asked, hoping that wasn't the case. He wanted to get the bullet into ballistics. Now.

“Yeah, that might be good. I kind of dumped a load on you the other night—telling you about the cancer thing.”

Mac shrugged. He really didn't want to deal with that issue. He had efficiently shoved it into a corner of his mind. “Did you have a chance to tell the others?”

“No. With this case breaking loose, I haven't brought it up. Which was why I wanted to talk to you. I'd rather you didn't mention it to anyone. I'd like to tell them myself.”

“Right. My lips are sealed.” Mac grabbed the envelope containing the bullet from the dashboard. “You can go ahead and savor your scone, Kev. I gotta know if this is the winning bullet. I'll meet you up there.” He opened the door, tossing Kevin an expectant grin.

“Oh, all right then.” Kevin sighed. Taking the sack and his coffee, he joined Mac on the sidewalk.

Security passed them through, and they took the elevator to the crime lab on the twelfth floor. Mac had left a message so that Wain would be expecting them. The receptionist was just coming in to work.

“Hi, Kevin, Mac. Wain said to go right back.”

“Thanks.” Mac hurried to the criminalist's office, with Kevin trailing behind.

“Morning, Wain,” Mac said as he entered. He held up the envelope. “I've got a present for you.”

“So I heard.” Wain was standing in front of his microscope, booting up his computer and monitor. “Do you have the gun also so I can compare barrels?”

“Sorry, not yet.” Mac frowned. “You don't need it to compare bullets, do you?”

“I don't need it. Helps if I have a bullet from a gun taken in a clinical environment. How'd you get this one?”

“Pulled it out of a bear.” He chuckled at Wain's expression.

“Comparing bullets from bears and humans. Interesting.”Wain took the bullet from Mac and, after removing it from the evidence envelope, placed it under his microscope. He examined the bullet for several seconds before photographing it with a camera attached to the microscope. He then removed it and set it in a solution. After cleaning the blood and bone from the bullet, he placed it back on the microscope and peered into the eyepiece. “It has the right twist to the barrel imprinted on the sample and appears to be made of the same material. Let me bring up the image of the bullet taken out of Mr.Gaynes on the split screen.” Mac held his breath as both bullets sat side by side in the enlarged-image screen. They appeared to match, but Mac waited for Wain's expert opinion.

Wain peered through the microscope for what seemed like an eternity. “Gents, my professional opinion, based on the lateral striations I see here . . .” Wain paused for several more seconds and raised his eyes to look at the screen.

“Your professional opinion is . . .?” Mac repeated.

“These bullets were fired through the same gun. That's prima facie evidence. If the barrel is from the same gun, you have your murder suspect.”