Terminal 9

by Patricia H. Rushford

“Eleven it is.”

  Mac terminated the call and turned off the tape recorder. “Good job,Tyler. I couldn’t have done it better myself.”

  “You did great, Tyler,” Dana said. Turning to Mac she asked, “Did you get much on the phone?”

  “Well, he didn’t come clean, but he didn’t deny the accusation either. And he’s agreeing to pay Tyler off. I think that’s enough to get him for arson and the murder of Jacob Mullins, even if he doesn’t show up for the meet.”

  “I just hope he shows up with cash and doesn’t try to kill me.” Tyler had relaxed a little.

  “You don’t have to worry about that, my friend.” Mac gripped his shoulder. “We’ll take it from here.” He shook Tyler’s hand when the youth stood. “Appreciate your help.”

  “Sure.” The kid smiled. “No problem.” Maybe there was hope for him yet.

  TWO HOURS LATER, the officers were in place, waiting for Addison Shaw to show.

  “You doing okay?” Dana asked Mac over the portable radio. From her vantage point on the rail bridge, she could see his silhouette on the tent wall.

  “Smells kind of moldy in here,” Mac told her, “but really quite comfy with these sleeping bags. Just hope I don’t end up with some kind of lice infestation.”

  Dana cringed. “I hope not either. I have to share a car with you on the way home.”

  “Any sign of Shaw yet? It’s getting down to crunch time.”

  Dana gazed through her night-vision binoculars into the darkness before answering. The dusty road that led down to the railroad bridge was dark and vacant. No sign of Shaw or his car. “Nothing yet, Mac. We’re ready for him, though.” Dana looked back into her night-vision binoculars at the two sets of sniper-spotter groups from their department SWAT team. Sergeant Evans was seated with her at the east end of the bridge, with Russ and Philly on the west. The SWAT members were stationed in the middle of the bridge for an elevated vantage with two .308 sniper rifles. They also had a tactical team under the bridge with their automatic MP-5 submachine guns, in case Shaw came armed with more than a briefcase full of cash.

  “I wish I’d have thought to go to the bathroom before I crawled into this thing,” Mac said into the radio.

  “Go ahead; who’s watching?” Dana joked.

  “Funny,” Mac whispered back.

  Mac had been waiting in the stuffy tent for well over an hour, and his nerves were beginning to get the best of him. He’d kept the propane lantern running in the tent so his silhouette was visible from the outside. His scruffy jacket and cap made him look like a transient. It was almost eleven-thirty. Maybe Shaw wasn’t going to show up after all. He was about to ask Dana if she could see anything when his radio crackled.

  “Set of headlights coming down the road, Mac, hang tight,” Dana said in a throaty whisper. “Looks like Shaw’s Lexus. He’s about a hundred yards out.”

  The headlights grazed the tent shortly after Dana’s transmission and he heard the car’s tires crunch on the gravel road before he heard the engine. The car came to a stop.

  Mac held his breath when the irritating beep sounded, indicating the car door had opened and the lights were still on.

  “Cohen?” Shaw called out speaking just above a whisper.

  Mac lifted his Glock .40 from his holster and pulled back the flap of the tent before emerging. “Hello, Mr. Shaw,” Mac greeted. “Are you looking for someone?” He held his pistol at his right leg, ready to use it if necessary.

  Shaw squinted in the darkness. “Cohen? Is that you?”

  “Step into the headlights, Mr. Shaw,” Mac told him.

  “Who are you? What’s going on?” The attorney stepped back from his open door, pulling a silver revolver from his waistband. His gaze flitted from Mac’s shadowy form to the tent. He appeared to be contemplating his next move when six red dots appeared on his throat and chest—the end of the line for a series of laser sites on the SWAT member’s rifles and submachine guns.

  “What the . . . ?”

  “State Police!” The SWAT commander yelled from atop the rail bridge. “Step away from the car and drop the gun! Drop it now or you’re dead where you stand!” The officer yelled a final warning as the ground team officers held steady on their target.

  “You got him?” the SWAT commander asked the sniper.

  “I’ve got him, Lieutenant. Just give me the green light.”

  “Do as they say, Addison,” Mac yelled as he backed toward the bridge, his own firearm aimed at Shaw’s chest. “It doesn’t have to end this way!”

  Shaw panicked and tossed his briefcase into the passenger seat of the car. Before he could get his car in reverse, a SWAT officer with an MP-5 fired a burst into the right front tire of the Lexus and a second into the left, instantly blowing both tires. The sniper on the bridge fired three rapid rounds into the car’s engine through the hood with his high-powered rifle. The Lexus sputtered and died.

  “Hands, show me your hands!” one of the SWAT troopers yelled from ground level as the tactical team approached the car behind a ballistic shield.

  Shaw looked down at his revolver, apparently discarding the initial thought of running. “I give up.” He placed his hands out the open window of the Lexus. “I didn’t know you were police! I thought I was being robbed!”

  I’ll bet. “Step out of the car.”With adrenaline pumping through his veins, Mac spoke with more force than he probably needed to.

  “Hit the ground, facedown.”

  Shaw stepped out. Dropping his revolver, he went to his knees then lay flat on his stomach, placing his hands behind his back like a pro.

  “Good move, Shaw,” Mac told him.

  “Move and you will be shot,” the ground trooper yelled. A second trooper from the tactical team quickly handcuffed Shaw and secured his firearm. He then walked back to Mac and handed him the gun. “He’s all yours, Mac. Good luck.”

  “What, you’re not sticking around?” Mac teased. As was their usual order of business, the SWAT team handed over the scene to detectives once the threat was secured.

  “Naw, I’ve got to work a graveyard shift tonight still. This was just an appetizer.”

  “I’ve got the feeling we’ll both be working late tonight.” Mac thanked the trooper and turned back to Shaw.

  TWENTY-

  EIGHT

  MAC CUT THE PLASTIC FLEX CLFFS off Shaw’s wrists when they arrived at the jail, throwing the temporary restraints used by the SWAT team in the garbage can next to the booking counter. Mac pulled his own metal set from his shoulder holster.

  “Is this really necessary?” Shaw rubbed his wrists for a moment then placed them back behind his back for Mac to cuff.

  Dana was filling out the booking slip while Shaw and Mac waited in awkward silence in the waiting area.

  “Sure you have nothing to say?” Even though Shaw had invoked his right to remain silent after the arrest, Mac tried again.

  Shaw shook his head and muttered something inaudible.

  Apparently, the answer was still no. The lawyer was experienced enough not to make any initial statements until he had a chance to review the evidence against him in a preliminary hearing. Shaw had a look of defeat on his face though, obviously anxious about his future—or lack of one.

  Mac could almost empathize. Almost.

  Dana completed the paperwork and the jail deputy accepted the prisoner, giving Shaw a second search and asking the standard list of very personal questions. The deputy pulled out Shaw’s pockets and examined them after all the contents were placed in a large plastic bag, along with his belt and shoelaces.

  “Do you have any questions for me before we go?” Mac took his cuffs back from the deputy as Shaw was secured in a temporary holding cell behind a heavy steel door with a dense wire screen.

  Shaw surveyed his new residence before answering. “May I have the disposition of my vehicle?”

  “It’s being towed to our office in Portland where we can store it indoors for processing. I’m sure you
understand we’ve applied for a warrant for a forensic search of the vehicle.”

  “I assumed as much. You do not have my consent to search or seize any items in the vehicle. I’d like you to make note of my assertion in your police report.”

  Mac pursed his lips. “I hadn’t planned on asking, but I’ll make note of your request.”

  “Can someone tell me what the bail is set at?”

  “No bail for aggravated murder, Shaw; you should know that. The judge may set a bail at the arraignment, but I imagine it’ll be steep when combined with first-degree arson.”

  “We’ll see about that.” That smug look returned to Shaw’s face. “I hope you realize that Cohen boy is lying. You people are going to pay dearly.”

  Mac didn’t challenge him. He’d let the evidence speak for itself.

  Several minutes later, he and Dana walked out to the car, sharing a satisfied silence. Mac loosened his tie, then yawned and stretched before unlocking the door. “I’m beat.”

  “You and me both.” Dana slumped into the seat. “Want to grab a bite?”

  “As long as it is something we can eat on the way back to the office. I don’t want to delay my date with the sandman any longer than I have to.” Mac started the car and started toward their office. “Drive-thru okay with you?”

  “You can head straight in if you want.”

  “Actually that sounds better than food at the moment. I’m badly in need of a shower.”

  “So what’s next?” Dana dropped the visor and winced as she glanced at her image in the small mirror. “I suppose you want to check on Shaw’s car.”

  “Right. Let’s make sure the Lexus is all locked up. I’m sure Philly and Russ have the vehicle secured in the evidence bay, but we’ll have to swear to it in the affidavit so we better have a look-see. Then,” he glanced over at her and smiled, “I’m going home. I want to get a good night’s sleep before finishing up the warrant in the morning.” They would need to type the information about the meeting and arrest.

  Dana flipped back the visor. “That Shaw character is something else. Murder and arson. I have a hunch it all started with Clay Mullins’s will.” She frowned. “I have to say, though, I’m having a little trouble with motive.”

  “It does seem strange, doesn’t it? What difference would it make to him if the property was turned over to the railroad and the city? His fee would have been the same.”

  “Unless he made a deal with someone. Maybe Jacob. Like, ‘Keep the new will under wraps and I’ll cut you in on the profits.’ But then why kill the guy?”

  “We’ll know soon enough,” Mac said. “Kevin is working on subpoenas for Jacob’s financial records. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was in on his father’s death. Someone had to plant the ricin in the insulin, and only a few people had access to Clay’s home and medical supplies.”

  “Right. What about Kelly? Think she might have been in on it? I’m thinking if Shaw told Jacob, he may have told Kelly too.”

  “The thought has crossed my mind. She’s almost too clean in this whole mess. We’ll have to take another run at her tomorrow. We need to expand our window of opportunity to a week prior to Clay’s eventual death in the rail yard. I want the results from our warrant first, then we can see what the lab found out on the ricin supplies in the Northwest. My money’s on Shaw or Jacob for Clay’s death, but we better not rule out the daughter.”

  “Hard to believe a woman would be capable of such acts, don’t you think?” Dana said.

  “Please,” Mac replied in a sarcastic tone. “Let’s not forget the case of the woman who hired a hit on her husband a few months back.”

  “Maybe if he’d treated her better, he wouldn’t have had anything to worry about.” Dana gave Mac a crooked smile.

  “You scare me sometimes.”

  She chuckled. “You know I’m kidding.”

  “Do I?”

  “ MOR N ING, MAC.” Kevin grinned and lifted his coffee cup in salute. His forehead wrinkled as he sipped at the hot drink.

  “Morning, partner, how you doing?”

  “I’m doing great, although it looks like you could use some more shuteye. What time did you and Dana get in?”

  He yawned. It was barely after seven, and Mac definitely could have used a couple more hours of sleep. “A little after two this morning. Ever have those nights where you’re so tired you can’t sleep?”

  “Oh yeah, more than my share. I hate those nights,mulling over leads and the next day’s work instead of catching Z’s.” Kevin paused. “Is Dana doing okay?”

  “Oh yeah, great. If there’s ever any shortfall in her training, it will be the trainer. I just hope I’m setting a good example for her. She’s a quick learner. I’m really impressed.”

  “She’ll do great. Dana reminds me of you. Except that she’s much smarter and better looking.” The grin came back. “Seriously, Mac, you’re a quick learner yourself. You have that natural instinct. Just don’t forget to keep yourself grounded and don’t lose sight of what’s important.”

  “You mean, like God?”

  Kevin studied Mac’s face, probably looking for any hints of sarcasm. He didn’t find any. “God is important to me. But only you can make that call. My faith in God is the reason I’m so at peace with this illness. Don’t get me wrong; I’m working like heck to get a handle on the cancer. But ultimately it’s out of my hands, and I’ll accept the outcome—whatever that is. In the meantime, there’s prayer.”

  Mac nodded. A lump in his throat prevented a response. Even though he wanted more than anything for his partner to get well and get back to work, he hadn’t spent much time praying about it. Maybe he should. “Seen anyone else yet this morning?”

  Kevin gave him a knowing smile. “Philly was in early. He’s helping out a patrol troop with a sex abuse case down in the rest area on I-5. Haven’t seen Dana yet, Russ has the day off, and Frank’s down at the Public Employee Retirement Systems office on a retirement meeting.”

  “So Sergeant Evans is serious about retirement?”

  “I think his hand may be forced, Mac. The changes in the PERS actuary tables this summer may have a big impact on his retirement if he doesn’t go before June 30. He’s getting his monthly estimate this morning, should have a pretty good feel for his decision this afternoon. Frank has nearly thirty years in and could have retired two years ago. I know his wife wants him to. You know how this job can wear on a relationship.”

  “Tell me about it. Still, I can’t imagine the back room without Frank Evans.”

  “Me either. Frank’s a legend. Been a supervisor here since I transferred to the back room.”

  “Who do you think will put in for the job?” Mac asked.

  “We’ll have to wait and see. Let’s not put the cart in front of the horse.” Kevin looked past Mac. “Good morning, sunshine.”

  “Good morning yourself,” Dana greeted. “You too, Mac.”

  He turned around to face her. “You’re far too chipper in the morning.”

  “Had a good run this morning, wakes you right up.”

  “Right, like I’m falling for that again.”

  “No, really.” Her dimples deepened. “I did run this morning.”

  Her cheeks did look rosier than usual. Mac thought about his three or four taps on the snooze button this morning, and considering coming in late if not for the important tasks that the day held.

  “Where do you get your energy?” Mac asked.

  She chuckled. “From the triple-shot latte I drank on my way in.”

  “So you really didn’t run?”

  “No.” She sighed. “Wishful thinking. But I’m getting there. I jogged in place for about five minutes trying to decide what to wear.”

  She’d made a good choice. It looked like a new outfit—a burgundy and gray pantsuit with a classic pink shirt. Mac thought about complimenting her but thought it better to keep his mouth shut around others in the department.

  “Great job yesterday, you two
.” Kevin moved into his office and gestured to Mac and Dana to sit down. “The lieutenant was bragging about both of you last night before I went home.”

  “Really?” Dana beamed. “What did he say?”

  Kevin chuckled. “Well, not too much actually. You know the lieutenant. He’s not much of a conversationalist, but he was definitely impressed. I understand you two are pecking out a warrant and hitting the car on a search?”

  “Yeah,” Mac answered. “We should be searching the car by noon. Hopefully we’ll get some prints from Jacob Mullins to corroborate the story Tyler Cohen gave us. I’d really like to find some hard evidence. Shaw is already spouting off about Tyler lying. A kid strung out on dope isn’t going to stand much chance against a seasoned lawyer. Still, he’ll have a hard time worming his way out of last night’s scam.”

  “We’ll get him,” Kevin said. “I’ll get to work on those financial records for Jacob Mullins today, see if we can dig up a paper trail on him. I told you about Carl finding that deleted will for Clay Mullins, didn’t I?”

  “You sure did. I bet it will match the hard copy we got out of the safe-deposit box.”

  “Strange, though,” Kevin mused. “The only reason I can see Shaw deleting that file is if he’d make more money by reverting back to the will that left everything to Clay’s kids.”

  “We were talking about that last night.” Dana folded her arms and leaned back. “There had to be something in it for Shaw. We’re talking big bucks. A guy like that wouldn’t commit murder and arson for peanuts.”

  “Which means Jacob and/or Kelly were probably in on it,” Mac commented.

  “Well,” Kevin said, “there’s your motive for the murder of Clay Mullins. Now all you need to prove is opportunity and intent.”

  “That’s the real challenge.” Dana sighed. “Shaw’s not talking, and we have to somehow find out how he or his accomplice accessed refined ricin and had the opportunity to get the poison into Clay’s insulin.”

  “And figure out why they’d use ricin,” Mac added. “It’s not exactly a household item.”

  “Looks like you two have your work cut out for you.” Kevin took another sip of his coffee. “It’s almost fun watching this one from the sidelines. Do I look as bad as you two when I’ve been up all night?”