Terminal 9 (37 page)

“So you don't want to see me outside of work?” Mac asked, trying to clarify her statements.

She closed her eyes. “I do, but I think it's best if we don't. At least not for a while.”

Mac frowned, not knowing what to say. His heart actually hurt. He'd miss not seeing her and Andrew. He'd already fallen for the kid and was well on his way to falling for Kristen. On the other hand, maybe she was right. She was probably having second thoughts about him. She was, after all, a doctor and he a detective. Maybe he wasn't smart enough for her. And his history had more than its share of snags. “If that's what you want.” His tone was cool and clipped.

“Mac . . .”

He stepped outside and walked to the car, not trusting himself to respond. He couldn't remember a time when his emotions had been so close to the surface.

KRISTEN CLOSED THE DOOR and headed for the sofa. Collapsing onto it, she leaned forward, dropping her head into her hands. “Idiot.” She hadn't meant to hurt Mac. She needed her head examined for sending him away.
Terror.
That's exactly what she had felt watching him act so naturally toward Andrew. He'd overcome his inhibitions about dating her and she'd . . .

“What have I done? It would serve me right if he never spoke to me again.”

Kristen Thorpe, you may be a whiz at pathology, but you're a dunce
when it comes to matters of the heart.

THIRTY-THREE

A
T 10:15 THE NEXT MORNING, Mac and Dana started for the Columbia County D.A.'s office with their return of search warrant paperwork. Allison at the lab had informed them earlier that she had suspended the time-consuming search through the hairs and fibers recovered from Shaw's car after the partial print, and the one full latent was conclusively identified as belonging to Jacob Mullins. The evidence would be retained if needed for trial. Those prints and the plastic flare cap would be golden in corroborating Tyler and Mandy's witness account.

Shaw's goose was cooked on Jacob's death, but Mac and Dana were still searching for the evidence to break open Clay's case and determine where Jacob fit and if anyone else was involved.

Kevin had been working with Dr. Kennerman at the Avalon Research Institute, who was still cooperating but who now required a subpoena from the district attorney for the employee roster he had promised the previous day. They weren't surprised at the request, as most corporations wanted to protect themselves from civil liability. Kennerman was probably receiving legal advice by this time. Mac appreciated Kevin's seasoned help on the case. It was comforting to have Kevin's input, even if he wasn't riding with him.

Mac glanced over at Dana, who was staring out the window. They hadn't talked much during the drive to St. Helens, which was not a bad thing. They had known each other long enough now that the silence wasn't uncomfortable, just an outward sign of their mental and physical exhaustion from working such a tangled web of an investigation.

“How was your date last night?” Mac asked, breaking the silence.

She turned toward him. “Terrific. How about you?”

The lack of a smile made him wonder about the authenticity of her words. “Okay. I took Kristen and her son out for pizza, then went home.” He wasn't up to talking about her.

“Who am I kidding?” Dana sighed. “It was a bust. The guy was a loser, and I ended up having to fight him off. Honestly, Mac, do I look like a woman who'd jump into bed with a guy on a first date?”

“Not to me.” But with Dana's looks, he could see how a guy could get fixated.

“Humph.” Dana folded her arms. “Well, no big deal. I fixed him. Called my friend Karon on patrol, and she'll put the word out to keep an eye on him.”

“By that you mean your pals will make his life miserable?”

“I hope so. He drinks, Mac, and I have no doubt he drives while under the influence. Just because he hasn't gotten caught . . . I'm not making this personal. Just posted the car info in the briefing folder with the DUII likelihood. Anyway, he'll get his comeuppance.”

“I almost feel sorry for the guy.”

“Don't. He's not worth it.”

Mac pulled up in front of the courthouse. “You okay?”

“Yeah. He wasn't anything more than I could handle.” She pinched her lips together for a moment then added, “Guess I'm just concerned about what he does to women who don't have police training.”

Mac nodded. “The guy sounds like a real jerk. You don't think he's a rapist, do you?”

“I've thought about following up on the idea after we wrap up our investigation.”

“Speaking of which, do you have the evidence list?” Dana had secured a list of the evidence seized during the search of Shaw's car to the return of warrant form. Oregon law required the police officer applying for a warrant to return a list of evidence seized during the search to the issuing judge for review. The procedure was the formal notification to the judge that the warrant had been served in good faith and there was actually evidence located at the residence or vehicle.

“If you don't mind, I'll wait in the car while you run up.” Mac yawned the latter part of the statement.

“Sure, anything else for Darren except the subpoena issuance on the Avalon records?”

“No, I think that's it. On second thought, ask about Shaw's bail and see if he's retained counsel yet. While you're returning the warrant, I'll get us a to-go cup. What will you have?”

“Bless you, Mac. Straight coffee—black.”

“Yeah, me too. I don't think my stomach could take anything sweet.”

She tossed him a smile and patted the car top, then turned to jog up the courthouse steps while Mac took a moment to update his police notebook.
Good month for overtime,
Mac thought as he recapped his hours this past week.
Too bad I never get the chance to
spend any of the extra money.
He thought briefly about Kristen and Andrew as he tucked the notebook in the glove box and stepped out of the car. Kristen had wanted to cool it, but he wondered if that meant he couldn't see her at all. Maybe he'd take her and Andrew somewhere special—like the mountains or the beach. Andrew would love a ride on a carousel. Or they could go to a game or a movie.

Mac stretched, glanced at his watch, then headed for the coffee shop on the corner, two doors down from Addison Shaw's law office. A “Closed” sign was affixed to the front door. Mac felt bad for Shaw's secretary, who was probably out of a job by now.

As Mac started across the street, he spotted a familiar face—the acting police chief, Harry Spalding. He hadn't seen Spalding since he'd let him have it over releasing the engine that killed Clay Mullins. The guy had been way out of line letting the train go without checking with Mac. The emotions Mac felt when he'd learned a key piece of evidence was being steam cleaned returned as he quickened his pace toward the man. He took a deep breath to settle his angst.

Spalding was standing in front of the coffee shop smoking a cigarette.

He took a long draw then tossed the butt into the street. The fact that a police officer would litter said it all in Mac's book. Spalding oozed of entitlement and dishonesty. Mac thought about his own father and felt his disgust grow even more.

In light of his actions regarding the release of the rail car and his drive for expediency, Mac wondered if Spalding's dishonesty included making some kind of deal with Shaw. Maybe Tyler's 9-1-1 call had been the reason for the guard leaving the scene, but Mac couldn't help but wonder if Spalding hadn't also made certain there'd be no officer at the house.

“Well, well, look who's here.” Spalding took out a pack of cigarettes for another fix. “You still milking that train accident? You trying to get your picture in the paper or something?”

Mac stepped up onto the sidewalk and closed in, letting his height advantage intimidate without words. Looking down at the weasel, Mac would have taken great pleasure in telling him that Clay Mullins had been murdered. He wouldn't mention it—at least not at this point. Mac wasn't about to share crucial information with a big mouth like Spalding.

The gold stars, formerly displayed on Spalding's collar, had been replaced by sergeant chevrons. “You been demoted since the last time we spoke.” Mac made a point to stare at the collar brass longer than necessary.

With a dour look, he said, “The chief returned from the FBI Academy and decided to make a change in the agency, thanks to a certain lieutenant in your department who pitched a gripe about that train engine. Guess I owe you.”

“Glad I could help. You could reward me by buying my partner and me some coffee. I was just about to get us some.” Mac felt a modicum of pleasure in upping him in the sarcasm department.

Spalding took a long draw from the cigarette, never taking his eyes off Mac. “You be careful while you're in town, Detective. Try not to mess up too many lives in your hunt for fame and fortune.” Spalding blew the smoke in Mac's direction.

“Thanks for the advice. If your police career doesn't work out, you can always get a job at the rail terminal. I'm betting you're already on the payroll,” Mac said, amused at how he'd managed to handle this situation compared to what he might have done or said in years past.

Spalding's face contorted in rage. A group of elderly women exiting the coffee shop kept him from releasing a string of vulgar expletives. Instead, he forced a smile and said, “It's been great working with you. Be sure to stop by if I can do anything to help your case, Detective McAllister.” He tossed another cigarette butt on the sidewalk next to Mac's feet.

“Count on it.” Mac brushed by him and stepped into the coffee shop.

That went well.
Mac could almost hear Kevin's voice. Actually, the meeting had gone extremely well. Before his days with the department, a physical challenge like that might have been rewarded with a fistfight. But Mac had matured to the point where he could brush more things off. Too bad Kevin hadn't been there to witness the encounter.

Mac purchased two sixteen-ounce cups of coffee and a giant cinnamon roll, for he and Dana to split. He had the gal behind the register cut it and place it into two boxes and put them in a bag so he could carry them.

Mac waited in the car for nearly twenty minutes for Dana to return. He'd consumed his half of the roll and was about to start in on hers when his partner pushed open the giant front doors.

“I was just coming in to get you; what took so long? Your coffee's getting cold.”

Dana's cheeks were flushed, her dimples deepening as she grinned. “Better head for the office, Mac.” She paused to take a sip of coffee.

“Why, what's up?”

“I got a page from Kelly Cassidy while I was waiting on the subpoena.” Dana held up the paperwork. “I called her back and had quite an interesting conversation.”

“Well?”

“Kelly apologized about yesterday and said she wanted to talk to us right away. I told her we could swing by her house, but she wanted to come to our office.” Dana paused to take another drink.

“No way. When?”

“As soon as you stop gabbing and start driving.”

“Better call the office and let Kevin know so they can be on the lookout for her.”

“Already done.” She opened her bag and sniffed appreciatively. “Thanks, Mac, but I thought you didn't want anything sweet.”

“Changed my mind.” Mac pulled out into the street and went on to tell her about his run-in with the ex-acting chief of police.

“He threatened you?” Dana seemed much more concerned about Spalding's confrontation than Mac was.

“I doubt he'll try anything. He was just blowing smoke.” Mac chuckled. “Literally as well as figuratively.”

“Maybe so, but I think he might be someone to keep an eye on.”

“I agree with you there. I'm wondering if he figures into any of this. Spalding's been playing games with us from the beginning. Releasing the engine that killed Clay, not taking the watch on the house seriously . . .”

Dana frowned. “You think he had something to do with the lousy watch?”

“Think about it. There's a burglary and a fire. Who's to say he wasn't in cahoots with Shaw in getting the officer guarding the house to turn his back? Even with Tyler's 9-1-1 call, the officer would have had time to get back to the house before Shaw got there to do his dirty work.”

THIRTY-
FOUR

A
S THEY PLLLED INTO THE BACK LOT, they both caught a glimpse of Kelly's white BMW in the visitor parking area.

“Good, she's here.” Dana released her seat belt and reached for the door.

“You ready to take the lead on this interview?” Mac asked as they hurried to the door.

Dana stopped in her tracks. “Sure, if you think I'm up to it.”

“I don't want there to be any surprises when we sit down with her. This may be our last chance with her. She obviously trusts you enough to engage in a conversation; it was you she paged, after all. She had my number too.”

“Okay, let's see what she has to say first. Who knows where she's headed with this.”

When they entered the detectives' office,Kevin was entertaining Kelly in their small reception area. Mac was glad Dana had called.

“And here they are now,” Kevin said with his business smile that Mac had grown to recognize, the one where he kept his mouth closed.

“Hello, Kelly.” Dana offered her hand. “We came as quickly as we could. We had some traffic delays through that construction zone in the industrial area.”

“No problem. I just arrived myself.” Kelly stood up and adjusted the visitor badge that was clipped to the front pocket of her jeans. “Detective Bledsoe made sure I was comfortable, although he could use a little help with his coffee.” She motioned toward the Styrofoam cup on the table next to her, three-quarters full of inky black brew.