Terry Odell - Mapleton 03 - Deadly Puzzles (21 page)

As soon as Gordon stepped into the briefing room, Jost and Gaubatz snapped to attention. Jost’s face reddened. He gave the tiniest of nods in Gordon’s direction and took a seat.

“
Something I need to know?” Gordon asked.

“
No, sir. I can handle it.” Gaubatz stared at a point above Gordon’s eyes.

“
Is it about Jost’s new baby?” Gordon asked. “If so, I’ll rearrange schedules. We don’t neglect family in this department.”

“
Understood, sir.”

When Gaubatz didn
’t elaborate, Gordon said, “I expect to see your report. In full.”

“
Yes, sir. Did you wish to address the shift, sir?”

The unusual formality in Gaubatz
’s demeanor sent pings onto Gordon’s radar, but he’d let his officer handle the staff. He’d learned enough from Dix, his former mentor, to know that micromanaging never worked. “No, I’m here to observe.” He smiled, hoping to lighten the mood. “Catching up after my vacation.”

Gaubatz strode to the podium and began with roll call, then moved through the business of the day.

“We have a possible ID on the Focus in Finnegan’s lot. However, we cannot ascertain that this is the same vehicle on the video, so eyes out, everyone. Likewise on the Ram and Subaru. I know there are dozens of them around, but check the plates on any matches.”

Gaubatz continued, briefing everyone on what first shift had done, what areas needed extra attention. No leads on their burglar, but Gordon hadn
’t expected anything—he knew he’d have been alerted had anything come in. A sense of satisfaction, of comfort, suffused him. His men—and women—knew their jobs, and whether he or Solomon were at the helm didn’t make a difference. It was about the job.

And, since he had nothing new to work with, he could leave on time, get home, clean up, and have a nice evening with Angie. At least he hoped so.

As he drove home, he pondered what he should say. Should he go in apologizing? For what? Wanting her safe? Or should he take a stand? Same reasons.

Men didn
’t apologize. Maybe if he did, he’d catch her off guard and they could avoid an argument. He started practicing.

~~~

Gordon felt Angie stir beside him. Instinctively, he knew she was reaching to catch the alarm before it went off. Her body clock knew when it was time to get up, but his refused to adjust to the four-thirty hour when he slept at her place. He contemplated joining her in the shower, but his body craved that last hour or so of sleep. Still hadn’t bounced back from the trials of his
vacation
. It wasn’t like they hadn’t hit their satiation points last night. He smiled as he drifted under again.

He woke to a soft kiss on his cheek.
“Have a good day,” Angie whispered. “Thanks for the earrings, and apology accepted. Breakfast downstairs if you want.”

He smiled again. He waited until he heard the door close—and the deadbolt snick—before throwing the covers aside and getting up.

He showered, found the clothes he’d brought to replace his stolen ones, and got dressed. The aroma of sizzling bacon hit him halfway down the stairs to the diner. He guessed he was truly forgiven—Angie rarely cooked him breakfast in the mornings, given all the work she had to do to get her cinnamon rolls baked before Daily Bread opened. Her newly hired assistant was off today, having pulled extra duty while Angie had been busy with the new catering business, not to mention the time Angie’d taken off to come to Gordon’s rescue.

Gordon held back in the doorway, watching her work. Her expression said she felt the way he had when he
’d gone to the briefing room after being away. She loved her work, and to her, this was home.

He crept up behind her and nuzzled her neck. And noticed she was wearing the earrings he
’d given her. “I’m wearing your present, too,” he said. The red silk boxers—covered with white hearts, no less—which he’d modeled for all of five seconds before she took them off, felt decadent next to his skin.

She served him a plate of bacon and scrambled eggs with toast on the side.
“Regular or decaf?” she asked.

“
Regular.” He stopped, a strip of bacon halfway to his mouth. “Wait. You knew?”

She scrunched her face.
“Of course I knew. And yes, it bugged me that you never mentioned why you’d switched. I hope after our … discussion … last night, you’ll stop trying to hide things. Cop stuff, okay. But
us
stuff. No.”

“
You’re right.” He knew Angie had respected the privacy of his work, and the little he could share with her, she kept to herself. Which, for her, an inveterate gossip, had been a significant milestone.

She brushed her lips across his.
“The security guy is coming at two today, in case you want to be here to make sure he does everything the way
you
want it.”

He didn
’t miss the emphasis on
you
. And he let it pass, because they’d gone over everything in detail last night, and he knew she agreed. “I’ve got to get to the station,” he said. “Can’t promise I can be here at two. I trust you.”

He was going over the second shift reports, seeking whatever had caused the tension between Jost and Gaubatz, when Solomon came in. He stepped to the white board and drew a huge X through Roni Wardell
’s name. “Chief, I think we can eliminate the wife as a suspect in the uncle’s killing.”

Gordon shoved the paperwork aside. Solomon might enjoy the limelight, but he didn
’t make statements he couldn’t support. “Explain.”

“
Impeccable research skills. All documented.” Solomon plopped a stack of paper onto Gordon’s desk.

“
I have no doubt. Give me the Cliff Notes.”

After helping himself to a cup of coffee from Gordon
’s pot—Gordon didn’t bother to mention it was decaf—Solomon yanked the visitor chair away from the desk and made himself comfortable. “First, I assumed Roni was a nickname for Veronica.” He held up his hand. “I know what you’re going to say about assumptions, but in this case it was the right one. Anyway, I started looking for Veronica Wardell. No luck.”

“
I don’t mean to belittle your storytelling, but I need to get to the elementary school soon. What
did
work?”

Solomon sighed, clearly disappointed he couldn
’t embellish his tale. “The picture looked like a yearbook photo. I backtracked Wardell to Central High in some Podunk town in Oklahoma. Found her picture there. Roni and Orrin. They were quite the couple, apparently. Exemplified the definition of high school sweethearts.”

Gordon tapped his watch.
“I bow to your ability to ferret out information using the barest of clues. So, you found her. What made you decide she isn’t a suspect?”

Solomon took a hit from his coffee, then set his mug carefully on the desk. His grin could have split his face.
“She’s dead, Chief.”

“
What?” That possibility hadn’t occurred to Gordon. “How? When?”

“
First, the name I found for her was Veronica LaPort, not Wardell. No evidence of a marriage certificate. Her death certificate, which is in the file, says she died over fifteen years ago.”

“
You did notify all concerned agencies, right?”

“
Of course, Chief. And they were most appreciative of all the legwork I saved them.” He smirked. “And unless Wardell married another woman named Roni, I’m betting his whole story about his missing wife was bogus.”

“
I wouldn’t touch that bet,” Gordon said. “But damn, the guy had me fooled.”

“
Would you feel better if I told you some of those pictures of Orrin Wardell and Roni were of drama productions? And that he was a theater major in college? Glowing reviews. Apparently the guy had talent.”

Gordon still had trouble accepting he
’d been so far off in reading Wardell. But, he reminded himself, there were plenty of skillful liars out there. Otherwise, scam artists would have to find real jobs.

“
So, how did she die?”

“
Traffic accident.”

“
Wardell was the driver?” Gordon asked. That would create a bucket load of guilt.

Solomon shook his head.
“Nope. It was one of his frat brothers. Wardell knew he’d had a few too many, so he asked one of his pals to drive Roni to her sorority. On the way, some drunk T-boned them. Roni died, the frat brother was messed up, but survived. And, as fate so often has it, the drunk who ran into them walked away with hardly a scratch.”

“
So, Orrin’s carrying around a thing for his ex-girlfriend? Doesn’t accept that she’s dead? Thinks she’s his wife?”

“
I haven’t dug that deep yet. Thought you’d be interested in what I found so far.” Solomon pushed away from the desk and stood. “Time to get back to serving the citizens of Mapleton.”

Gordon played with those puzzle pieces as he directed traffic and supervised the crosswalk at the elementary school. Orrin Wardell had snapped.
But when?
What had triggered it? The car accident? Running into the elk unearthed some buried memory, and Wardell transferred it to the accident that killed Roni? Maybe thought he could save her this time?

Didn
’t make sense, but the human mind played strange tricks on people.

A message from Laurie sat on his desk when Gordon returned. Officer Jost wanted to see him.

Gordon grabbed the reports and leafed through them until he found Gaubatz’s. A citizen—anonymous, of course—had reported a patrol car parked for over twenty minutes along the side of the road near the edge of town. Said citizen had assumed the officer—later identified as Jost—was either asleep on the job or otherwise shirking his duties. Instead of assuming Jost was working in his car, or that he was on official business, Gaubatz had written him up for it.

Which puzzled Gordon. Gaubatz wasn
’t normally so hard-nosed. Gordon assumed Jost’s reason for wanting to see him was to tell his side of the story. But there were always three sides to a story—the first party’s account, the second party’s account, and what really happened. He called Dispatch and asked to see the logs.

When Gordon checked Connie
’s dispatch reports from the previous night, the call had come through on the tip line, which promised to maintain anonymity, so there was no record of the incoming number. Not without a warrant, and no judge would feel there was a reason to issue one for a simple complaint. Jost had been dispatched to eight calls last night. The last one had been for a drunk and disorderly, half an hour before the citizen’s complaint came in.

He buzzed Laurie, told her to set up an appointment with Jost.

“He said he’d like to see you before ten, if possible. He’s picking his wife and baby up later this morning.”

“
I’ll see him any time this morning,” Gordon said.

“
You want me to see if he can come in right after your morning break?” she asked.

Was he in that much of a rut?
“My break isn’t fixed in stone. Personnel issues take priority.”

Twenty minutes later, Laurie announced Jost
’s arrival. “Send him back,” Gordon said.

Hat in hand, Jost appeared in Gordon
’s doorway. Gordon motioned him inside. “Close the door.”

Jost did, then stood at attention two paces into the office.

“Relax, officer. Sit down. Would you like some coffee?”

Jost lowered himself into the visitor
’s chair, sitting stiffly on the edge of the seat, as if Gordon’s invitation had been an order. “No, sir, and thanks for seeing me.”

“
What can I help you with?” Gordon said.

Jost rotated his cap between his hands.
“Sir, I understand I was written up, and if there’s anything I can do to clear my record, I’d appreciate it. Things are tight, what with the baby and all, and I was counting on a promotion in the next cycle. Anything that might hamper that—well …”

“
I read Sergeant Gaubatz’s report. Now, why don’t you tell me how you saw it.”

Jost took several breaths. Still fussing with his hat, he spoke.
“Calls were back to back for a while that night. Nothing major, all routine. But it doesn’t matter what the call is, there are reports to file.” He gave Gordon an almost sheepish look. “Of course, you know that, sir.”

“
I most certainly do,” Gordon said. “Continue.”

“
I was where the complainant said I was, but I was working in my vehicle, trying to get a head start on the paperwork. You know, while everything was fresh in my mind. And I
was
awake, sir. I don’t know why the sergeant said I was asleep. I didn’t receive any calls during that period, and I chose that spot because people frequently exceed the speed limit on that stretch of road. My radar was on the whole time.”

Of course, until they got computers in their vehicles, there was no way to check exactly when a report was written, but Gordon didn
’t doubt Jost’s story. He had no reason to. If anything, Jost was killing several proverbial birds with a single stone by not leaving the streets to come into the station to file his reports. “Did you give this information to Sergeant Gaubatz?”

“
I tried, sir, but he didn’t seem to care. I’d been parked in one spot for too long, he said. Gave the citizens the impression we were milking the clock, or not protecting them. I know the sergeant can be tough at times, but he’s never gone to these extremes.”

Gordon stood.
“Thanks for coming in, Officer Jost. You know my door is always open. I’ll look into this, and I doubt that this incident, even if it turns out to have merit, would be enough to have you passed over for a promotion. Your name will be considered—along with everyone else who’s applied, of course.”

“
Thank you, sir.” Jost stood, snapped to attention, then pivoted and left.

Gordon frowned. He buzzed Laurie.
“Can you send Solomon in here, please.”