Terry Odell - Mapleton 03 - Deadly Puzzles (27 page)

Gordon called Solomon again.
“When you were searching for Veronica, did you look at other images once you matched the picture to the yearbook?”

“
No. Saw no need once I verified it was her.”

“
You at your computer?” Stupid question. Solomon wasn’t going to wait until tomorrow to start hunting down leads on his Deadbeat Dad Blogger Killer theory.

“
Yes. I was … checking my email.”

Yeah, right
.

“
I’m going to send you an image I found. I want you to tell me what you think.”

“
Sure thing, but meanwhile, I need to check this update from a contact in Telluride. He promised to keep me posted on the homicide.”

Gordon saved the picture he
’d been staring at, then emailed it to Solomon. While he waited, Gordon put his cordless phone on speaker and went about the task of resetting all the clocks that had stopped while the power was out. He wondered why every single kitchen appliance needed its own clock. One battery-operated clock in the kitchen would tell him the time just fine.

So why do you bother resetting them every time the power goes off?

Solomon’s voice came through as Gordon finished setting the microwave to the correct time. “Hey, Chief. The autopsy on the uncle revealed fiber traces around his neck. They think he was murdered with a wool scarf. Purple.”

Gordon
’s heart stopped.

“
Chief? You there?” Solomon’s voice jerked Gordon back.

“
Yeah. Wardell had a purple scarf. He hung it on a tree branch to mark the spot where his car went over the edge in Tranquility.”

“
Whoa. That sure moves him up on the list for that one. I’ll relay that to Telluride. Wait a second. Your email’s here.” A brief pause. “I see what you mean.
Shit
, Roni bears a striking resemblance to Angie. At least she does in that picture. Hang on.”

Gordon waited, rethinking everything related to Wardell. Just because he had a purple scarf didn
’t mean it was
the
purple scarf. And even if it was, it didn’t mean Wardell was the one who’d used it to kill his uncle.

But the odds that this was a random coincidence were damn slim.

Solomon came back on the line. “Okay, I looked at more pictures of Roni. That Angie thing isn’t obvious in all of them, but I’m going out on a limb here and saying if Wardell’s still delusional about Roni, he might be bent out of shape if he thought she was seeing someone else.”

“
In addition to, or instead of holding me to blame for Jase Blackhawk’s death as a motive for the burglary?”

“
With a nutjob, in addition to.” Solomon was quiet for a moment. “You had that cell phone incident at the B and B, right? Stolen memory card. What if Wardell was snooping through your phone—you said it was lying around, right? And he saw Angie’s picture? You think he might have been coming to Mapleton to see her? Thinking his dear departed Roni was alive and well?”

“
How would seeing her picture lead him to Mapleton?” Gordon asked. “It was a picture of Angie I took at Aspen Lake, nothing in the background but trees. No sign or anything.”

“
You had her picture connected to her contact information, didn’t you? He might not even have looked at your camera roll. Or, he might have looked at it after he saw Angie’s picture in your contacts.”

Right. Gordon had to expand his thinking. Somehow, when Angie was involved, his emotions got in the way of his brain.
“Makes sense.”

Solomon took a breath.
“How about this for a theory? Wardell comes to Mapleton looking for
his
Roni, who is really Angie, figures out where she lives, uses the fire alarm as a way to get into her place. Maybe he plans to be waiting, you know, surprise her. Only while he’s waiting, he snoops around. Sees a guy’s stuff in the apartment. He might not even know it was yours. He’s got enough screws loose, he goes ballistic and removes every trace of a man’s presence.”

“
Shit. I’m going to get a patrol officer over there.” Gordon hung up and called Dispatch and told Connie to get someone to make sure Angie was safe.

“
Done, Chief.”

Feeling less anxious, he went on.
“Things have escalated. I want everyone looking for our suspect. Any and all additional Mapleton overtime manpower is authorized. And call County. Get them on board. If you need backup on Dispatch, that’s authorized as well.”

“
Roger that.” Connie’s tone had shifted into two-hundred per cent Dispatcher. No emotion. Pure efficiency.

Next, he called Angie.

Getting a visit from a delusional man was one thing. A visit from a killer was something else.

Crap.
Angie, pick up.

He set the cordless on the desk, grabbed his cell and punched in Angie
’s number. Once he heard it ringing, he disconnected the cordless, and cell to ear, clambered downstairs.

Angie
’s voicemail kicked in.
Damn it.

Gordon kept his rising panic out of his tone as he left a message.
“Angie. I’m on my way. Whatever you do, don’t open the door. Unless it’s one of my officers. I’ll explain later. Call me.”

He found his keys and rushed to the garage. He hit the remote to open the garage door, and when the lights came on, a back-lit male figure waited at the bottom of the steps.

A back-lit male figure pointing a shotgun at him.

“
Hey there, Gord, my man. Long time no see and all that. How about you put those hands up in the air where I can see them. You would know how it works, you being a cop and all.”

Brain reeling, Gordon complied. Buying time was always a good idea.
“What do you want, Nick? I’m sure you don’t need a shotgun. I’m happy to tell you what you want to know.” He folded his hand over the phone, hoping Metcalf wouldn’t notice it. Could he punch in a 911 call?

Metcalf laughed, a deep, throaty, and utterly terrifying sound.
“I don’t
need
to know anything. You, on the other hand
need
to know that you’re not going anywhere. Not until I get what I want. Meanwhile, lose the phone.” He chortled. “Again. That looks like a new one. But slow and easy. The phone. One hand. Put it on that shelf next to you.”

Gordon edged toward the shelf, laid the phone down.
“All right. Phone’s gone.” He stayed where he was, hands raised. The compliant victim.

“
Very good,” Metcalf said. “I like a man who can follow directions. I want you to stay where you are, on that step. No going up, no going down.”

Gordon
’s mind raced. Keep him talking. Keep him calm. He’d already alerted Dispatch, so Angie would be safe. If she didn’t hear from him, or he didn’t show up, or if she called him and he didn’t answer, would she call the station?

Great. Just what he needed. He could see the headlines in the
Mapleton Bee
. “Police Chief Held at Gunpoint in His Own Home.” With Charlotte Strickland’s byline. Gordon hadn’t rearmed his alarm system since he knew he’d be going out to move his car into the garage.

“
So, tell me what you want.” Gordon lowered his arms a couple of inches.

Metcalf waved the shotgun.
“Keep ’em up, Gord, my man.”

“
You’ve got the gun, Nick. My arms are getting tired.”

“
You’re a cop. You’ve got a gun. Probably two. I know the drill. Cops never surrender their weapons. So the hands stay up.”

Metcalf had that right. His
Glock was at his hip, his Beretta was tucked into an ankle holster. Gordon raised his arms half the distance he’d lowered them. A compromise. “Tell me why you’re here. What you want. Holding up a cop isn’t a smart move, and you struck me as a smart guy.”

Metcalf snorted.
“I get by.”

Gordon was getting nowhere, other than buying some time.
“How did you know where I lived?”

“
Overheard you talking about Orrin to that hippie lady. Thought I should follow you. At a discreet distance, of course. Not that hard. Once you turned off the main road, it was fairly obvious where you were going. People are easier to track than game. Don’t have those prey instincts. And their senses aren’t as acute. You should have locked the side garage door as soon as you got in. Just sayin’.”

Gordon thought back. No, he
’d never noticed anyone behind him. Would he have recognized Metcalf’s pickup in the dark? But Metcalf hadn’t been on his radar. He’d assumed if anyone were following him, it would have been Wardell, who’d most likely have gone with a sedan or SUV.

You
’re standing here, proving that making stupid assumptions is never a good idea.

“
You overheard me talking about Orrin? You’re staying at the Richardsons’?”

“
Yeah. Nice ladies. They understand getting along with nature. Reminds me of my mom. I think they disapproved of my hunting, but they were too polite to mention it.”

“
So, you and Orrin—” Gordon left the question vague, hoping Metcalf would fill in the blanks.

“
You’re asking if we knew each other before meeting at the B and B? Yes.”

“
You took the memory card out of my cell phone.”

Metcalf shook his head.
“Nah. Frankly, I was surprised it worked at all after being stuck in the snow. But I’m not a thief. I left it on the table for you, with a note. Orrin, however, he’s a curious sort, and I wouldn’t have put it past him to snoop.”

“
What do you mean, stuck in the snow? You said you found it in your car.”

Metcalf shrugged.
“I didn’t say I never stretched the truth, only that I’m not a thief.”

Did Metcalf know Wardell through the mental health institute? If so, did Metcalf, to borrow Solomon
’s phrase, have a few screws loose? He’d answered Gordon’s questions. How many more could Gordon ask before Metcalf got back on task—whatever his task happened to be.

“
That’s good, Nick. So, you’re not a thief. That means you weren’t the one who took my property.” He didn’t want to give too much away, in case Metcalf wasn’t aware of Angie.

“
What property?” Metcalf seemed genuinely confused. “I returned your phone, didn’t I? I gave Orrin a ride, that’s all. Said he’d had another accident. I swear, that man should never have been given a driver’s license.”

“
A ride?” Gordon asked. “To where? Was he hurt? Did you take him to a hospital?”

Metcalf narrowed his eyes.
“I’m not sure I want to tell you that.”

Gordon made a mental note to have all the medical facilities in the area checked once he got out of this mess. And how was he going to do that? Keep him talking. Another minute or so should be all he needed.

“So, what do you want to tell me, Nick? Why don’t you put the shotgun down? I don’t believe you’re a killer. If you wanted to kill me, why didn’t you leave me in the tree well?”

“
Gotta’ be honest, Gord, my man. I did mull that one over a bit. But all I needed was a little more time, and having to explain how Nick Metcalf, outdoorsman extraordinaire, left a man to die would have been bad for business. Not nearly as effective as rescuing someone. It was hard enough to sneak up and clout you over the head with that branch to make you fall. Went totally against my gut.”

“
You … you knocked me into the well?”

Metcalf shrugged. The shotgun dipped, but only for an instant before it was once again pointed at Gordon
’s chest.

And then, finally it happened. The overhead light on the garage door opener reached the end of its cycle. The garage was plunged into darkness. Gordon leaped over the stair railing, grabbed his
Glock, and fired in Metcalf’s direction. He crawled under the steps, gun trained on the spot he’d last seen Metcalf. Pulled his backup Beretta from its ankle holster. Tucked it into his jeans, where he could grab it if he needed it. And waited. Listening. Did he hear Metcalf breathing? Not over the blood pounding in his own ears.

He did hear the Bark Brothers, though. Would their barking drown out any sounds of Gordon making a move?

Metcalf’s a trained hunter. He can probably tell where you are, with or without barking dogs.

But Metcalf
’s normal prey didn’t shoot back.

And then the dogs went silent. Either Jill had shut them up, or they
’d decided they’d sounded enough of an alarm.

Had Gordon
’s shot hit Metcalf? Could he let the man bleed out in his garage? He wasn’t trying to kill the guy. Now, if he moved or spoke, Metcalf would know exactly where he was. And he didn’t even need
exactly
. A shot in Gordon’s general vicinity could do serious damage.

He didn
’t kill you in the tree well
.

But they weren
’t in the great outdoors now. Metcalf seemed to live by two entirely different sets of rules.

Gordon stayed where he was. The garage had no windows, so the darkness was total. He had a slight advantage. He knew the garage. However, Metcalf had been in here long enough to get the lay of the land. And he knew where Gordon had been standing. Dead even on that one, Gordon decided.

Was Metcalf even in the garage? He seemed to have stealth down damn well. But no, the light above the side garage door would have given him away if he’d left. Even if Metcalf had managed to open it silently, even if he’d had the foresight to unscrew the bulb, there would have been enough light from neighboring houses to give Metcalf’s exit away.

From behind and above, a beam of light cut through the darkness.