Terminal 9

by Patricia H. Rushford

  Tyler chewed on his bottom lip for a moment, probably weighing his words.

  “Go ahead,Tyler. You’re doing fine.”

  “I—uh—I came in along the river like he said. Did some fishing and skipped some rocks. I could see the cop pretty clear from where I was. He sat there most of the time, reading and drinking coffee. Every once in a while he’d get out and walk around. I’m not sure he ever did see me. When it started getting dark I went in on the riverside.”

  “How did you get into the house?”

  “The door was unlocked. I just walked in.”

  Dana looked him in the eye. “And it was already getting dark. Must have been hard to see what you were doing.”

  “Not really. The lights from the terminal were shining in through the windows. Light enough.”

  “How convenient. What did you find in the house?”

  “Humph.” Tyler moved forward, resting his arms more fully on the table. “Nothing worth stealing, that’s for sure. Just a bunch of junk—some old signs and pictures and stuff lying around.”

  “What about the bag you took?”

  He shrugged. “It was sitting on the counter in the kitchen. There were some bottles and pills and a bunch of needles. I figured I could sell the stuff.”

  “Or use it yourself?” Dana asked.

  “Yeah, I know I got a problem. Me and my girlfriend are quitting after the first of the month, going cold turkey.”

  “Yeah, right,” Mac mumbled.

  “Go on,Tyler,” Dana prodded.

  “I was in the back bedroom when you guys pulled in. I got as far as the porch when you came around the corner.”

  “So you knew we were cops?” Mac asked.

  If the guy had been a turtle his head would have disappeared into his shell. “Yeah, I knew,” he admitted. “I’m sorry, man. I just freaked out and tried to get out of there. I didn’t want to hurt anyone, just confuse you so I could get away.”

  “Is this the bag you took from Mr. Mullins’s house?” Dana inched the bag toward him.

  “Yeah. That’s it.”

  Dana shifted her gaze from Tyler to the bag, then over to Mac with a take-it-from-here look.

  “Let me get this straight,” Mac said. “This bag isn’t yours.”

  “No sir, it’s not mine.”

  “So you would have no problem with us looking in the bag?” Mac asked.

  Tyler shrugged. “No.”

  “Are you willing to give a taped statement, Tyler?” Mac reached for the bag and placed it under his chair without opening it.

  “Sure, if that’s what you want.”

  “I don’t have any additional questions. Detective Bennett, why don’t you put him on tape and we’ll go from there.” Mac pulled a mini cassette recorder from his briefcase and handed it to Dana.

  Dana recorded a test message then set the recorder on the table, again advising Tyler of his rights and going through his statement. Once he gave the account, both detectives locked him into his story with some follow-up questions.

  “Tell you what, Mr. Cohen.” Mac snapped off the tape recorder and removed the mini cassette tape. “If your story checks out and we find that you had nothing to do with the old man’s death, I’ll forget about that garbage can incident.” Mac pulled a pocketknife from his pocket and punched the plastic tabs from the cassette, to ensure it wasn’t used for recording again. “That sound like a deal to you?”

  “Sure. Like I said, I never meant to hurt anybody.”

  “We’ll book you on the burglary and resisting arrest, and for now we’ll put a hold on the assault of a police officer and attempted escape charges. Sound like a winner?”

  “I guess.”

  Dana asked the uniformed trooper waiting outside the interview room to step back in. Mac instructed the trooper to take Tyler downstairs to the county jail and book him. “Get him an appearance date and release him.” Since Tyler was a juvenile, the jail wouldn’t hold him.

  “Good job, partner,” Mac said to Dana when Tyler and the trooper were out of earshot.

  “Thanks, I guess.” Dana let out a sigh.

  “I know I put you on the spot. Kevin did the same thing to me on several of the cases I ran with him. Hope you don’t mind. I just wanted you to know I trust you.”

  “Thanks, Mac, but I could have throttled you at the time. How about trusting me with a heads-up next time?”

  “Sorry, just passing along the tradition.” Mac grinned and held up a hand, which Dana high-fived.

  “What do you want to do with the bag Tyler stole?” Dana asked.

  “Let’s get it introduced into the warrant. We’d better get upstairs and punch this into our affidavit so we can get a judge’s signature.”

  “Doesn’t it need to be dusted for prints?”

  “No, not now that the kid has admitted to taking it. The crime lab doesn’t like to process evidence we don’t need.”

  Dana looked at her watch. “It’s seven o’clock already.”

  “I hope Darren is still here. I’ll get the warrant going; you need to call Sergeant Evans and tell him about your use of force.”

  “Right.” She frowned and seemed unsure of herself. “Do you think I did the right thing? I hit him pretty hard.”

  “You brought him down—he’s alive to tell about it. By the way, slugger,” Mac winked, “remind me never to mess with you.”

  Dana’s dimples deepened into a sly smile as she batted her eyelashes at him. “Why, Mac,” she said in a sweet Southern drawl, “whatever do you mean?”

  THIRTEEN

  MAC JOGGED UP THE STAIRS to the District Attorney’s office while Dana took the bag to the car and called Frank. He buzzed on the door to the D.A.’s office, but when no one answered, he paged Darren on his cell phone.

  Darren called him back a few minutes later. “Hey Mac, I’m across the street having some dinner. I’ll be right up.”

  “Mind giving me the access code so I can finish my warrant affidavit?”

  “Not at all.” Darren gave him the code. Mac let himself in and went to work on Darren’s computer.

  He typed in the description of the home and the autopsy results, labeling the request to search the home as a suspicious death investigation since he was nowhere near ready to call the death accidental or medical. At the same time, they certainly had no real evidence of a murder—just a feeling that was growing stronger by the minute. Mac also added the mysterious bag they’d retrieved from Tyler to the affidavit.

  The plan had been to search the home for evidence of Clay’s reason for leaving, more so than the cause of death. As Spalding had indicated, just after Clay’s death, a responding uniformed officer would have done a cursory search of the house to make sure there was no one else home. That kind of search fell under a public safety provision that allowed for warrantless searches for community care-taking measures. Once the police were sure there were no additional citizens in the home, they had to leave. That search had been done long before Mac and Dana were called in.

  Before the break-in, Mac had planned to go in and have a cursory look at the place today. Now they’d have to bring in a CSI tech, and that meant they’d probably be waiting until morning— assuming a tech was available then. With all the budget cuts, the Oregon State forensic lab had been hit hard.

  Besides, the break-in had eaten up a lot of their time. Better to start fresh in the morning rather than work through the night and risk sloppy work by two very tired detectives. He had no doubt that Kevin would agree. On top of that, he doubted Frank would sign off on more overtime.

  Once again Mac grumbled about the necessity of the warrant. He really wanted to get inside Clay’s house, but he could lose the evidence in a suppression hearing if he tried to skirt around the paperwork. Unfortunately, without a warrant, they would need consent from all parties, and that hadn’t happened. Clay’s daughter refused to give consent until she looked into the matter, and Jacob refused to even talk to them. If they did find somethi
ng in the house indicating foul play, Mac would have to look seriously at the denied consents from both parties.

  Mac hit the print key a bit harder than necessary. Paperwork frustrated him to no end. But he intended to do it right.

  “Hey, Mac.” Darren poked his head inside the office. “How’s that warrant coming?”

  Mac looked up from the monitor. “All done. I’m printing it out now.” He scooted his chair back and stood.

  “Did you get your burglar squared away?”

  “Yeah.”

  Volk nodded. “I’m glad you and Dana are okay. We’ve been dealing with the Cohen family for some time. I’m afraid the fruit didn’t fall far from the tree with Tyler. I’m just thankful he didn’t have a gun. Do you think he had anything to do with Mullins’s death?”

  Mac shrugged. “Not at this point. He copped to the burglary. We think he was just looking for an easy score to feed his addictions. But if we find evidence of foul play where Mullins is concerned, I’m certainly not ruling him out. It’s possible the kid wanted the old man out of the way and put him on the tracks so his death would look like an accident.”

  Darren nodded. “Possible, but unlikely. Tyler’s not too bright.”

  “He could have had a partner.” Mac sighed and shook his head. “Listen to me. Already making a homicide out of this.”

  “I’ve got Circuit Judge Perkins standing by at home for the warrant. He said we could do a telephonic job if you wanted to call him. You can use my phone recorder if you like; it’s all ready to go.”

  “Thanks.” Mac grabbed the affidavit off the printer. “You have the number for Perkins?” Even though he now planned to search the house the following morning, Mac wanted everything in place so they could hit it bright and early.

  “On my phone, on that yellow sticky note.”

  Mac dialed the number, getting Judge Perkins on the second ring. “Yes sir, this is Detective McAllister, OSP. I’m applying for a search warrant.”

  “Right. Darren said you’d be calling. I was sorry to hear about Clay’s death,” Judge Perkins said. “He was a fixture around here. The community has lost a good man.”

  “So I understand. I appreciate your help, sir. Darren said you’d agreed to do this over the phone. I have a recorder ready when you are.”

  “That’s fine. Go ahead.”

  Mac activated the cassette recorder and began reading the affidavit out loud.

  Warrant applications made over the phone in Oregon must be recorded so the judge is protected from liability in the event the affiant provides inaccurate information. Usually the judge has the affidavit to read, keeping the original once the warrant is signed. Judge Perkins listened intently on the other end, then agreed to sign the warrant. “Just fax me the paperwork; I’ll fax back a signed copy and we’re in business. You can bring me the original affidavit tomorrow morning.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Glad to do it. When are you planning to serve the warrant?”

  “We were hoping to go through the house tonight, but I’ve decided to wait until tomorrow morning—that is, if I can hook up with a CSI technician. With the burglary tonight we’ll have to treat it as a crime scene.” Tyler’s burglary had complicated matters and they now had a contamination problem. They would have to eliminate and separate his actions or damage from that of a possible murderer.

  “Sounds like a wise move. Let me know if you need anything else.”

  “Will do.” After obtaining his warrant, Mac called the Portland office of the State Police forensics lab, requesting a CSI technician to accompany him and Dana in the morning. He gave directions and set a time of 9:00 a.m. After updating Sergeant Evans he met up with Dana in the car.

  “You ready to call it a night?” Mac loosened his tie and slid behind the wheel.

  “You didn’t get the warrant?”

  “I did, but there’s no point in going over there now. I called for a lab tech. We’ll hit it first thing in the morning.”

  “Good.” She glanced at her watch. “The evening isn’t completely shot. By the way, did you call Kristen?”

  Mac winced. “I totally forgot.”

  “Better let her know what’s going on.”

  Mac hesitated. He had to call but he sure didn’t want to. He’d much rather face a gunslinger than a woman scorned.

  “She’ll understand.” Dana sounded as though she knew what he was thinking. “Come on, Mac. Kristen isn’t Linda. Besides, how often is she called out on a job?”

  “Probably at least as often as we are.” Once they started driving, Mac pulled out his cell and checked for messages. Kristen’s number showed up and he dialed it, feeling a little like he was going into battle.

  “Mac.” Kristen greeted in a cheerful voice. “I heard about your little adventure. Are you and Dana okay?”

  “We’re fine. Doesn’t look like I’m going to make dinner though.”

  “Have you eaten?”

  “Not since four-thirty, but it’s nearly nine.”

  “And that’s a problem because . . . ?”

  “I don’t want you to go to any trouble on my account.”

  “Trouble? Fat chance. I just got home myself. I was going to suggest you stop at Chen’s for takeout. Get whatever you want and bring me their number three special.”

  “Where’s Chen’s?”

  “On Alder, just off Broadway.” She gave him directions to the restaurant and then directions to her house, which was in an older but trendy neighborhood in southwest Portland.

  “You’re sure?”

  “I’m sure, Mac. You’re not getting out of our date that easily.”

  She laughed, but Mac had a feeling she was serious.

  “Okay. I’ll be there in about forty-five minutes.”

  “Hurry. I’m starved.”

  MAC COULDN’ TKEEP THE SMILE OFF HIS FACE when he hung up and turned to Dana. He wasn’t sure why the prospect of having Chinese takeout with Kristen pleased him. He only knew it did.

  “I take it she wasn’t upset.” Dana kept her eyes focused on the rain dotting the windshield. If Mac hadn’t known better, he’d have thought she was angry with him. But that didn’t make sense. She was the one who set the crazy thing up.

  “Nope. She understood.”

  Several minutes passed with only the rhythmic swish-swish of the windshield wipers. Finally, Mac asked, “Are you okay? Are you mad that I’m having dinner with Kristen?”

  “Of course not. Why would I be?” Dana was still staring straight ahead, not looking at Mac.

  Mac maneuvered the car onto Highway 30 toward Portland. Women could be so exasperating. “Would you like to join us? I’m sure Kristen wouldn’t mind, and I sure wouldn’t.”

  She heaved a frustrated sigh. “Honestly, Mac. Do you really think I’d do that?” She leveled an annoyed look on him and turned to look out the side window, clearly putting an end to their conversation.

  A few minutes later, she turned back and apologized. “Okay, I am upset that you’re seeing Kristen. Are you satisfied?”

  Mac was a bit startled, not only by Dana breaking her long silence but by her admission that she was jealous. Was it possible that she still had a romantic interest in him? “If you feel that way, then why did you set us up?”

  “We’ve been over this before. I really don’t think it’s a good idea for us to be together. But that doesn’t mean I can turn off my feelings.” She folded her arms and shivered. A tear glistened on her cheek and she brushed it away.

  Mac’s heart leaped at the possibility that Dana might finally agree to date him. “Maybe you should reconsider. I’m only going out with Kristen because—”

  “I know. I set it up.And no, you should go. I’m—I’m just coming off the adrenaline rush. It’s hitting me a little late, but . . . Wow. I didn’t think taking that guy out would shake me up like this.”

  Mac reached over and patted her arm. “You did good, partner. In fact, if it hadn’t been for you, Tyler would ha
ve gotten away.” Mac hadn’t really taken time to think about it before; maybe he hadn’t wanted to. He didn’t much like the idea that a female cop could not only outrun him but subdue the bad guy without his help. “Where did you learn to run like that anyway?”

  “I ran track in high school and college, remember?”

  “Now that you mention it, yeah.” He grinned at her. “Guess I won’t feel so bad about not being able to catch up with you.”

  She knuckled him in the shoulder. “Next time I’ll wait for you.”

  “Right.” Mac frowned. “Just one thing. I’d just as soon you not broadcast your conquest around the guys—especially Philly and Russ. When they hear I got beat by a girl, they’ll never let me live it down.”

  Dana laughed out loud. “Thanks, Mac. You’ve just given me the ultimate weapon. I’ll keep my mouth shut—for a price.”

  “What’s that?” Mac feigned a worried look. Or maybe the look was for real. His stomach was in knots and Mac couldn’t contribute it all to hunger.

  “I’m not sure.” She rubbed her chin. “I’ll have to think about it.”

  MAC DROPPED DANA OFF at the OSP parking lot and followed the directions Kristen had given him to Chen’s. The restaurant was small and smelled fantastic. He placed his order and, while he waited, called Kristen to let her know he was on his way. He had the food and was on the road again in less than five minutes.

  Mac took SW 14th and followed it to the end, then made a left into an established neighborhood, wishing all the while his stomach would settle down. It had been giving him fits since he left St. Helens. He was hungry, but that only accounted for a small amount of his discomfort. His date with Kristen had him flustered and fighting butterflies.

  On top of that, the incident with Dana still worried him. He didn’t really care if she told the guys how she’d outrun him. He was more concerned about his condition. He should have been there for her. What if the guy had had a gun? Dana could have been hurt and where was he? He had to do something about his diet and his workout schedule. He’d told Dana about packing on the pounds and realized the pounds he’d put on had caused him to lose his edge.

  Mac pulled up in front of an older Cape Cod home. Kristen opened the door before he could knock. Her pink-red-purple hair stood up in spikes as usual. She was wearing some kind of lip gloss. Her gaze traveled from his face to his hands. She grabbed the food and left him at the door.