He stood there a moment before stepping inside.
“Come in and close the door, Mac. I can’t afford to heat the outdoors.”
He obliged, stepping in far enough to close the door behind him. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected for décor and was pleasantly surprised at how normal Kristen’s home looked. He’d expected Gothic stuff or leftover Halloween decorations, but it was small, warm, and cozy. The fireplace was real—not gas. A vase of flowers and some candles decorated the mantel. The place smelled homey—like she’d baked a spicy apple pie.
Kristen had gone into the kitchen, which was situated to his left. The room he was in went from an entry to a living room and dining area. The table was already set for two, and a candle arrangement and wine glasses indicated a level of intimacy Mac was less than ready for. Straight ahead was a hallway with a bathroom and probably two or three bedrooms.
Standing in the second doorway was a small boy with curly hair. He held a scraggly looking blanket in one hand and a teddy bear in the other. Andrew watched Mac warily for several seconds before stepping into the hallway and inching toward him. Once he’d made the decision, he ran, then stopped abruptly in front of him and held out a skinny arm. “You must be Mac.”
Mac hunkered down to the boy’s level and shook his hand. “I am. What’s your name?”
“I’m Andrew. Mama said I could wait for you to get here, then I have to go to bed.”
“Aren’t you going to eat with us?” Mac asked, thinking the kid could run interference.
“He already ate.” Kristen came into the room with two serving bowls, which she set on the table. “Andrew had dinner at my mother’s. Mom takes him when I have to work late.” She sighed. “Which is way too often.”
Kristen came toward them, her face filled with adoration as she stooped down and picked up the child.
Andrew slipped his slender arms around his mother’s neck. “Can Mac read me a bedtime story and say prayers with me? Please?”
Kristen laughed. Turning to Mac, she asked, “Do you mind?”
“Uh—no.”What else could he say? He followed them down the hall and into a room decorated in shades of blue. Andrew had a toy car collection that could rival Toys ‘R’Us. One wall was covered with large framed posters of NASCAR drivers. The kid was definitely spoiled.
Kristen kissed Andrew and said a childhood prayer, then handed Mac a book and left to finish getting dinner on the table. Mac sat on an old-style Quaker rocking chair with Andrew curled in his lap. He read all of five pages before the boy fell asleep.
Not certain what to do next, Mac set the book on the floor and glanced toward the open door, hoping Kristen would come in and put the child to bed. When she didn’t, he held Andrew close and tried not to wake him as he stood. Mac placed him on the bed, then tucked the covers around him. He’d never had much experience with children and had no idea why the sight of the sleeping child brought a lump to his throat and a catch in his heart. He gave into the urge to kiss the boy’s forehead.
He straightened and felt a movement at his side as Kristen slipped an arm through his. “There’s something special about a sleeping child, don’t you think?”
“Yeah, I guess there is.” Mac’s heart pounded as he turned toward Andrew’s mother. Here, in her little boy’s room, Kristen seemed softer, warmer, more . . . he stopped his thoughts before they took him to a place he had no intention of going. “Um—I don’t know about you, but I’m ready for some of that chow mein.”
Kristen stretched up and kissed his cheek. “Thanks for putting him to bed.”
“Right.” He swallowed hard. “No problem.”
Kristen took his hand and led him to the table, where they ate and talked about work. Mac relaxed as Kristen told him about the shooting victim who had come in at closing time. The conversation stayed on a safe level, with neither of them drifting into a deeper, more intimate place. To be honest, the scene with Kristen in the kid’s room had terrified him. He didn’t want to get that close to her or feel something so deep. It was way too soon. While Kristen was an interesting dinner companion, Mac couldn’t see himself getting involved.
They talked shop until eleven. “I need to get going,” Mac told her. “Dana and I are heading out to St. Helens to search Mullins’s house in the morning.”
“Good. Let me know if you find anything. I may have my lab results by then.”
They stood in the doorway for a moment, Mac wondering if he should kiss her good-night. “Thanks for dinner,” he managed.
“Thank you for bringing it.” Kristen tipped her head down. “I liked having you here, Mac. I so seldom . . .” She made eye contact and grinned. “We’ll have to do this again.”
“Right.” Mac stepped outside and Kristen closed the door, leaving him alone.
What’s going on with you? Mac asked himself on the way home. She’s not your type and . . . what you felt in that little boy’s room wassimply a normal reaction to a sleeping child.
A lot of guys his age were married with families. Women talked about their biological clock ticking. Maybe guys had one of those too. Maybe it was time for him to find someone—settle down and have kids.
Only a couple months ago, he thought he’d found the right woman. Linda Morris was so beautiful and had seemed perfect for him. But Linda couldn’t accept his being a cop. Couldn’t handle his hours. He’d thought for a while he and Dana would make a go of it, but she had been very clear that it just wasn’t going to happen—at least not while they were working together.
He definitely felt something for Kristen. But she had a strange hairdo and a tattoo on her shoulder and who knew what else? Mac pulled into his driveway, determined not to think about women at all. He had a job to do and had to be up early in the morning to do it. He’d told Dana to meet him at the office at seven, which meant he had to get up at six. Morning would come far too early.
MAC HAD NO TROUBLE FALLING ASLEEP. It was the waking up that bothered him.
His eyes refused to focus as he stared at the numbers on the alarm clock. The all-too-familiar audible tone on his pager chimed away on his bedside table. Two-twenty-one. This can’t be good. Mac yawned and turned on his bedside lamp, then grabbed the pager. “Please let this be a low battery alarm,” he groaned as he pressed the green button that would light up the digital display.
Call me at dispatch ASAP re: Columbia County—Tammy
Mac knew Tammy only by voice. She was a night dispatch supervisor at the OSP dispatch center in Salem. Tammy had delivered dozens of wake-up calls to him during the past couple of years, all of them to deliver bad news.
Mac picked up his cordless phone and sat up in bed, pulling his scratch pad and pen from the bedside to take notes. He scratched out details from a previous call to make room for tonight’s information.
“State Police Dispatch, state the nature of your call,” the male voice answered.
“This is eleven-fifty-four, McAllister. I’m responding to a call from the supervisor.”
“Mac?”Tammy came on a moment later. “You awake?”
“I am now.” Mac rubbed the top of Lucy’s head. She had walked into his bedroom after seeing the light on and laid her head on his bare thigh. “What’s up?”
“I received a call about fifteen minutes ago from Columbia County Rural Fire Department. That house we were security posting, the one that belonged to the train victim case you are working by Terminal 9?”
“Yeah, Clay Mullins’s place. You said the fire department called?” Mac’s heart plummeted.
“It’s up in flames, Mac. Thought you’d want to know.”
FOURTEEN
IT’S ON FIRE? Tell me I didn’t hear you right.” Mac switched the phone to his left hand and hurried to his closet.
“Sorry, but from what I understand the entire structure is engulfed.”
“Great. That’s just great.”
“You want me to get anyone else going on it?”
“Yeah, page Sergeant Eva
ns please and let him know I’m heading out there. I’m requesting an arson detective also, so if you’ll ask Sarge to call my cell phone I’d appreciate it. I’ll turn it on now.”
“Consider it done. Is that it?” Tammy had already typed in the request. Like most dispatchers, she could type at warp speed.
Mac switched on the overhead light and grabbed a pair of jeans. “One more thing. Page Detective Dana Bennett and let her know we need to respond out there. I’ll swing by her house to save us some time.”
“I’ve already called her. Our new system shows the assigned personnel alphabetically, and the dispatcher saw her name first. In fact, we just heard her on the radio air. She’s already en route to the fire.”
Mac tried to contain his irritation that Dana always seemed to be one step ahead of him. “No problem,” he said to the dispatcher. “I’m just happy I didn’t read about it in tomorrow’s paper. Make that today’s paper. I’m on my way, thanks.”
Mac dressed in a hurry, choosing jeans and a sweatshirt rather than a sports coat and slacks. He locked Lucy in her kennel and told her he would call the neighbor to pick her up in a few hours. Mac grabbed his gun and holster from the top of the refrigerator then snapped up a ball cap from the hall closet before running out the door.
He slipped on the icy sidewalk, surprised at how cold it had gotten in the last few hours. His duty car was sitting at the curb, and he had to scrape the windows clean before jumping in the car. Mac slammed his rechargeable flashlight into the charger after starting the engine. He probably wouldn’t get a chance to get too close to the scene until it was rendered safe by the fire department, but he wanted to be ready.
After pulling out of the parking lot, Mac notified dispatch he was en route to Columbia County. Dana told him she was west at St. Johns when she heard him on the radio.
A good fifteen minutes ahead of me. What’s she trying to prove? Mac acknowledged her radio traffic, trying not to sound miffed. He was being petty and he knew it. Dana was just following protocol. “I’m coming through Longview to shave off some travel time. I’ll meet you at the scene.”
“Anything special I need to be doing, Mac?”
“Yeah. Start getting names of responding fire personnel as soon as you get there. And while you’re at it, find out what happened to the officer who was supposed to be guarding the house.”
“Will do. Drive careful.”
Once he reached Highway 14, he hit his siren and lights. It was freeway clear to Longview and he aimed to get there in record time.
Kevin never liked it when Mac drove to the north coast or even eastern Oregon by way of Washington State highways. Mac wasn’t sure why. They were often less crowded and quicker than the Oregon routes. Kevin always argued they were being paid by the citizens of Oregon and should be looking out for their highways while traveling around the state.
Mac smiled, thinking of the friendly banter he had shared on the topic with his former partner. Mac’s cell phone brought him up short and he realized he had experienced one of those rather scary moments—driving on autopilot and daydreaming.
Leaving on his flashing lights, Mac flipped off the siren so he could hear. “Detective McAllister.”
“Mac, this is Sergeant Evans. Heard about your little problem out in Columbia County.”
“Yeah, Sarge. Sorry to wake you, but I needed to get going and wanted to make sure you knew Dana and I were out and about.”
“Generally, the process I operate under is that I approve call-outs and you get the call from me.” Mac winced at the comment until he heard Frank’s chuckle and realized that the sergeant was just kidding.
“Sorry about that. I can go back home if you want to go out instead, Sarge.”
“No thanks, hot shot. You need anything from me?”
“You already know about the search warrant we were going to serve. I’ll let the lab know they can stand down for now, but I would like to have an arson detective meet us out at the scene.”
“There’s not much they can do tonight. Not until things cool down and our hose-dragging brothers get their evidence-wrecking axes and boots out of the scene.”
“Yeah, you’re right. Would you mind getting one out there in the morning?”
“Sure, I’ve got some follow-up in the morning at the prison with Philly and Russ but I’ll get someone out to you. Ray and Stan are already on a fire out in Canby so I’ll send Jan your way around 6:00 a.m. Let me know if it’ll be longer.”
“You got it, Sarge. Jan will be great. Besides, I like her dog. Her lab reminds me of Lucy.”
“Except that her lab is worth about fifty grand. I can’t believe the price we pay for these accelerate dogs. You’d think every dog could smell gasoline.”
Mac grinned at Frank’s comment. “They probably can, just not tell you about it like Polo does.”
“Humph. You or Dana give me a call at sunup and give me an update, one way or another.” Mac maneuvered into the far right lane as I -205 merged with I-5 just north of Vancouver, then hit the siren again.
“Sounds good, Sarge. Thanks.” Mac clicked off his phone.
Mac thought about Frank’s retirement and wondered what that would mean for the department. Especially with Kevin being sick. Kevin had talked with him about the possibility of promotion. Mac wanted to promote someday, but probably not for a while. He liked being a detective and found the idea of being a respected journeyman detective like Kevin intriguing.
Although Frank could be tough, he knew his business and Mac couldn’t help but wonder who their next boss would be. Even though the sergeants weren’t considered the “brass,” the first-line supervisors could make all the difference to the morale in a specific workgroup. Troopers and detectives rarely had contact with captains and majors from headquarters in Salem, so the sergeants and lieutenants pretty much set the tone for the office. Mac dismissed his concerns about the department. Whoever they got would work out. They pretty much had to.
Off to the southwest, across the Columbia River, Mac could see the glow of the fire. He made it into Longview and crossed the Rainier Bridge in record time, arriving at Terminal 9 shortly after 3:00 a.m. Two media vans were already at the scene with cameras rolling.
Dana, who was leaning against her car and wearing a T-shirt and jeans, waved at Mac as he drove into the lot. She was standing over one hundred yards from the fire, which was still putting out some serious heat.
Mac pulled off his sweatshirt before joining Dana at her car. “Can you believe this?”
“Incredible. This case gets stranger by the minute.”
“Did you get any kind of report from the fire captain?” Mac asked.
“They have both engine companies on the fire. The call came in around 1:30 a.m. through 9-1-1. The house was fully engulfed when they arrived. The unattached garage, over there on the right, was far enough away so they were able to save most of it.”
“Do they have any idea on the cause?” Mac asked.
“Nothing yet. We won’t know until they get it put out. They’ve been dumping water on it since I got here. It’s settling down now. They have a fire boat coming up from the Portland Fire Bureau to throw water on it from the riverside.”
“Jan and Polo will be here a little later,” Mac said. “I want her to take a look around without the firemen in the event we’re looking at an arson.” Mac blew out a long breath. “So what’s the story on our so-called guard?”
“Apparently a call came into 9-1-1 around 1:30 reporting a gunman on the west side of town. The chief put every available officer on it, including our guy.”
Mac shook his head. “Guess I can’t fault him for that. Did anything come of it?”
“Apparently not. By the time they got to the site, the guy was gone and the house was in flames.”
“Gone, huh? Wonder if he ever existed.” Mac shook his head. “Could this case get any more complicated?”
“Let’s hope not.” Dana turned back to look at the fire. “Seems
like we’re getting blocked at every turn.”
An hour later the fire had been reduced to a smoldering mass. Fire personnel would continue to look for hot spots in what remained of the structure for some time before giving the investigators the go-ahead.
Jan and her arson dog,Polo, arrived shortly after sunup. She pulled up to the crime-scene tape in her Chevy all-wheel-drive van, stepped out with her coffee thermos in hand, and stretched. Her hair was pulled back in a neat ponytail under her blue baseball cap. She was wearing jeans and a sweatshirt with brown slip-on shoes. Comfortable traveling clothes, Mac supposed. She’d soon be suiting up in her fire turnout—the thick, suspendered brown pants and jacket.
“Hey Jan,” Dana greeted.
“Morning, Dana, Mac. What do you have for Polo and me?”
“This is the house Clay Mullins lived in,” Mac answered. “The man who was hit by the train a couple of days ago. We had a warrant signed to search his place this morning, but as you can see, we never got the chance.”
“And this is the place you thought might be worth a fortune?” Jan’s eyes narrowed. “Mighty strange there’d be a fire only hours before a search.”
“We’re thinking the same thing.”
“All right, before we go tramping around there I want to run Polo over what’s left of the structure to look for accelerates.” Jan opened up the side door to her van and unlocked a kennel. Polo, the three-year-old black lab, jumped from the vehicle and sat at Jan’s feet while she secured a beacon strobe to his collar. She then placed fire-resistant booties over his feet to prevent damage from the heat. Once her partner was properly dressed, Jan placed her fire turnouts on, along with her fire helmet and respirator.
Jan and Polo walked toward the structure and met with investigators from the fire department before going toward the house. Using a long leash, the arson detective lead Polo around the outside of the foundation. The dog sniffed and pawed at the water-soaked rubble. Polo’s shiny black coat rippled as the eager dog worked through the charred remains of wood, glass, and metal.
Terminal 9 Page 12
