Terry Odell - Mapleton 02 - Deadly Bones (30 page)

Gordon hooked the glasses over his ears and picked up one of the pieces of paper. The words sharpened. He handed them back to Colfax. Much as he hated to admit it, Colfax had the right attitude. If he needed readers, so be it.

“They’re one point five,” Colfax said. “There’s a chart on the rack where you buy them. You can find the strength that works best for you.” He stood. “Now, time to go grill the suspect.” Colfax left, closing the door behind him.

Gordon leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. The silent room seemed to recede into a surreal world, detached from planet Earth. He drifted, floated, let his mind go where it would. Fires, bones, dogs, hospitals. Cell phones. Car crashes. Everything swirled in a fuzzy mist, slowly converging, separating, and reassembling. Gordon pinched the bridge of his nose and returned to the reality of a triple investigation. Or was it quadruple? Or a single investigation with multiple prongs?

The fact that Irv’s phone calls coincided with the discovery of the bones and connected to the break-ins left a raw feeling in Gordon’s stomach. Could Irv be involved? And if so, the burden rested on Gordon. Irv worked for him, and Gordon bore full responsibility for not noticing any shortcomings—or, God forbid—that Irv was undermining the workings of the police department.

Gordon found the phone number that Irv had called when he had interrupted him earlier. He stared at the number, then at his phone. Why not? He punched in the number, his heart thrumming in anticipation. Would this be the break he needed?

After four rings, a robotic voice said, “Please leave a message at the tone,” followed by a beep. So much for a break. He cursed under his breath. Not only did television make people think cops could work miracles with no evidence, it taught crooks ways around what few channels the cops had open to them.

Where did he stand? The white board looked like a random collection of names, some surrounded by circles, others with lines and arrows pointing at other names. With no motive, it was impossible to narrow the list of players. He should examine each individual component. After all, he still needed to know who’d slipped Rose the wrong medication, and who’d tampered with Doc’s steering.

Colfax flung the door open. “To quote your delightful dispatcher, ‘I don’t think you’re going to like this.’ “

Gordon groaned. “What now?”

“Your Irv guy. He’s gone.”

“Gone?”

“Good to know your hearing is fine even if your eyesight’s fading. Yes, Irv has left the building. Officer I talked to said he’d seen Irv in the john and he looked three shades of green. Irv told the guy since he wasn’t officially on duty, he was going home. Which sounds good to me. I’m neglecting three other cases, and there’s nothing more I can do here tonight. Coffee only goes so far. See you first thing tomorrow.”

Covering a yawn, Colfax exited through the office back door. Gordon locked it behind him and went straight to Connie’s desk. He waited while she fielded a call. As soon as she disconnected, he said, “Did you tell Irv we wanted to talk to him?”

He heard the brusqueness in his tone, and clearly, so did Connie.

“I did not. I simply told him to take a break.” Her tone matched his, and her expression reflected indignation.

“Had he complained about feeling sick?” Gordon asked, a little less sharply.

“Not to me, but I told you, I was too busy to babysit him. The duty officer just told me he’d gone home sick. Could have been the stress, or he might have some bug. Incident Command has things under control, so I’m back on this desk until Tessa gets here at eight.”

“Irv said she wasn’t due on until midnight.”

Connie blew out a sharp breath. She clicked open a spreadsheet. “No, she’s on at eight. Irv wouldn’t know her schedule. He doesn’t usually work Tuesdays.”

“Do me a favor,” Gordon said. “Call Tessa and confirm. She asked Irv to cover for her last Saturday, and maybe they’re still making their own arrangements.”

Connie’s lips narrowed. “If they are, I’ll have to talk to both of them again. I thought I’d made it clear, but perhaps I need to reiterate that I’m in charge of scheduling and everything has to go through me.” She picked up the phone and waved him away. “I’ll handle it.”

Gordon wandered over to the fire map while he waited. Things had calmed considerably, and there was a much longer black containment line. At least something seemed to be going well. The Incident Commander was on the phone, talking about which fire companies were where, making notes in a small spiral notebook. Beyond him, Connie hung up the phone and nodded Gordon over.

“Tessa never heard anything about a shift change. I think you might be right. Irv could be losing it. How do you want to deal with it?”

Gordon rubbed his eyes. All he needed. A dispatcher with dementia on top of everything else. “I’ll talk to him next time he comes in. Which will be—?”

“Tomorrow. Twenty-two hundred to six.”

“If he’s not here, he can’t be screwing up. Right now, I want to get to the hospital before visiting hours are over.”

“Give Rose my best.”

“Will do.”

Still wondering how to deal with Irv, Gordon headed for the hospital. Normally he’d have enjoyed the pink and orange puffs and ribbons of clouds spread across the deep blue sky, but tonight all it did was create a glare, making it almost impossible for him to see the road. He slowed, not wanting to become another mountain driving casualty.

By the time he got to Doc’s floor, he had to badge his way past the gatekeeper at the nurse’s station. However, he was glad for the heightened security, and that they’d moved Doc out of ICU. A private room made it easier to keep an eye on him. Gordon took a breath and pushed the door to Doc’s room open.

Doc was hooked up to a plethora of machines, like the ones he’d seen in Rose’s cubicle in ICU. One cast-encased leg was hoisted into some sort of trapeze contraption, and Doc’s head was swaddled in bandages. His swollen face was a Technicolor array of purple and blue bruises, and a band of tape straddled his nose.

A woman in a white-coat and white pants stood at the foot of his bed. Gordon produced his badge again. She produced one as well. A deputy from the county. Colfax had done well.

“I’m a nurse as well as a deputy.” She pulled her coat aside revealing a sidearm.

“How’s he doing?” Gordon asked. “I need to ask him a few questions.”

She narrowed her eyes. “He’s in and out. He’s on pain meds and still dealing with the aftereffects of the anesthesia. You can have a few minutes, but I can’t promise he’ll be coherent. I’ll be at the nurse’s station.” She pointed out the call button and strode out of the room on white rubber-soled shoes.

“Doc?” Gordon stepped closer to the bed. “Doc, it’s Gordon Hepler. Are you awake?”

Doc’s eyes popped open. “Knew you’d find out. Let me die. Save the cost of a trial.”

Chapter 35

Megan lifted her champagne flute and tapped it against Angie’s, smiling as the musical peal resonated through the room. “Vintage champagne and your good crystal? All this because I got a bank loan?”

Angie pinked. “I thought we’d drink to Rose’s health, too.” She sipped from her glass.

“I’ll drink to that.” Megan tasted the champagne, the bubbles exploding against her tongue. She grinned at her friend. “I have a
feeling
there’s more. Does it have anything to do with Gordon?”

Angie shook her head. “Gordon? No way. You need to work on your senses, girlfriend. I thought you might want to celebrate the new partnership.”

Angie’s words erupted in Megan’s brain like the champagne bubbles in her glass. “Partnership? You’re going to do it?” Her heart pounded. Had she misheard?

Angie flashed a huge grin. “Yes. I don’t know where things are going between me and Gordon. All your arguments made sense, and I talked to Ozzie. He’s all for it. Anything to get Daily Bread’s name out there will help. And you’re right, I need to relinquish a little control in the kitchen. Besides, it might be nice to sleep in once in a while. I thought I’d mix up big batches of my cinnamon roll filling—that’s the only thing that makes mine different from anyone else’s. I can freeze it, and train anyone with baking skills the rest. And, who knows? Maybe some day I’ll even part with that.”

“And you’ll get something extra.”

Angie cocked her head. “Like what?”

“Like Rose’s
Apfelkuchen
recipe. She said she’d teach me how to make it as her contribution to the business. Don’t see why you can’t come, too. You’ll be the one making it. Heaven knows, I’m hardly ready to go pro on the baking circuit.”

“Now
that
is a perk. Why didn’t you say so?”

Megan laughed, and wrapped her arms around her friend. “I’m so glad. More than glad. I’m ecstatic.” She drained her champagne and went to the bottle for a refill. “Tonight’s going to be like old times.”

Angie held her glass out for Megan to top off. “Except we’re toasting with a much higher class libation.”

Megan giggled. “I’ll say. Unless you want to go get some cheap beer?”

“No way. I can still remember how sick I got the first time we put away a six-pack.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t have done one each.” Megan could smile now, but there had been hell to pay when Rose and Sam found out.

“Oh, and you were wrong,” Megan added. “My
feelings
weren’t totally off.”

“What do you mean?”

“I asked if the partnership celebration was about Gordon. And, in a way, it is, because you said your decision was based, at least in part, on where your relationship is or isn’t going.” Megan set her glass on the coffee table. “Are you two having problems?”

Angie took a long, slow sip of her champagne. “Not really. But we’re not going anywhere, and I’m not sure if he’s ready to deal with—you know—that big male fear. Commitment. I’ve always made the first moves.”

“He’s a guy all right. Do you like what you have?”

Angie seemed to deliberate for a bit. “Yeah—even if it ends up not being everlasting. Right now, he’s almost the best thing in my life.”

“What’s the best?”

“Daily Bread.” Angie’s expression went contemplative. “My God, that’s the same as it is for him.
Damn
. And it only took two glasses of champagne to figure it out.”

“Not to mention the brilliant insights of your best friend.”

“Okay, there is that. So, leaving things with Gordon out of the picture, what’s next? With
our
partnership?”

“For you? Right now, draw up a menu of things you’d be comfortable offering. Nothing terribly expensive—until this gets off the ground, I want to keep my costs reasonable.”

Angie looked more animated than Megan had seen her since she’d arrived in Mapleton. “Buffet stuff? Finger food? Or will you be doing sit-down dinners?”

“Simple at first. I’m not going to push gourmet. Classy, but still fun.”

Angie clapped her hands. “I’m
fun
. I can do fun.”

“What about kids?”

“Food or interacting with kids?” Angie asked.

“Food, for starters. How are you with birthday cakes?”

“Piece of cake. No pun intended. And speaking of cake, there are two pieces of double chocolate fudge cake left downstairs that I won’t be able to sell tomorrow. Want one?”

“Champagne and chocolate cake? Works for me.”

“Be right back.”

As soon as Angie left, Megan called Justin to give him the good news. And to check on Rose, whom she realized she hadn’t thought of for hours.

“She’s doing great,” Justin said. “I swear, it’s like she’s enjoying pretending to be Mildred Billings. She’s made up an entire life history of the woman and is regaling the nurses with stories of her past. At least, I think they’re stories. She never shared much of her life in Germany. They might be true for all I know.”

Megan thought about the danger Rose had been in during her last visit to Mapleton. And now, Rose’s health was an issue. “One day soon, we’re going to have to pin her down and get her history.”

“I totally agree,” Justin said.

“Maybe when she’s teaching me and Angie to make her
Apfelkuchen.
”

“You going to be able to get back into the house tonight?” Justin asked.

“No, but things are looking up for tomorrow. As soon as they let me in, I’ll grab your stuff and bring it to you, and drive you to the airport. What time’s your plane?”

“Eleven.”

Megan did a quick calculation for drive times between Mapleton, the hospital, and the Denver airport. “As long as they let me into the house before eight, I should be able to make it.”

“I told you, it’s not like I need what’s in the house. If it doesn’t work out, I can grab a shuttle. I have my laptop, which is the only thing I need.” There was a prolonged silence. “I don’t suppose you’ll be able to get away tonight.”

She heard the uncertainty in his voice. Was he wondering whether her not showing up meant she was looking for a reason to break things off?

The door opened and Angie came in carrying two huge pieces of cake. Megan lifted her finger, and Angie set the plates on the coffee table before disappearing into the bedroom.

“I know it’s your last night,” Megan said, lowering her voice. “And if things weren’t so crazy, what with the fire, and Rose, and working on my new business, I’d want nothing more than to spend it with you. I like what we have. A lot. I’ll be staying with Rose and Sam while I sort out the business stuff. Once things quiet down, I’ll come visit you. Promise. We can talk more in the morning, okay?”

“Sure.” The phone clicked and went dead. Megan just stared at it for a moment. Maybe she had been—

“Trouble?” Angie appeared at the edge of the couch.

Megan gave a wry grin. “No worse than what you and Gordon have. Long distance is tough enough, but with this new career move, I’m going to have even less time to get away. There will be less traveling, which might help, but Justin’s got a lot of new job responsibilities, too.”

“There’s always phone sex,” Angie took one of the plates of cake and curled up on the chair across from Megan.

Megan knew Angie was trying to get a rise out of her—although the heat she felt spreading across her face and neck was probably all Angie needed. She was tempted to toss one of Angie’s throw pillows at her, but that would have been childish. And would have made a mess of the chocolate cake. Instead, she did the mature thing. Stuck out her tongue.