Secrets, Lies & Alibis

by Patricia H. Rushford

  “Shoot, man, you want my life story?”

  “Just tell us what you remember.”

  Gordon sighed and his right hand drifted dangerously close to the knife.

  Kevin tensed and held his breath, releasing it when Gordon just wiped his hands on his pants. A quick look at Mac told him his partner had noticed it too.

  “I told her I wanted to be with her and I thought she shouldn’t get married because this dude didn’t sound like he was satisfying her.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Do I have to spell it out, man? The dude didn’t exactly rock.

  He was older than her. He told her he didn’t want kids and she was ticked about that.”

  “She told you that?” What was Megan Tyson thinking, hanging out with this guy? Her sister had said she was confused, but was she blind too? What did she see in this guy?

  “Well, mostly. Megan said she didn’t know him that well. I told her she should just take it slow.”

  “Did you ever have sexual relations with Megan?” Only age and experience allowed Kevin to keep probing. That and the fact he wanted to nail Megan’s killer no matter how far into the gutter he had to dig.

  “No way, man. It’s not like I didn’t try.” He gave them a knowing look—as though being men put them on the same sleazy level.

  “How hard did you try, Gordon?” Kevin leaned forward.

  “I didn’t rape her, if that’s what you mean. We fooled around and stuff, but never home base. She kept telling me she wasn’t that kind of girl.”

  “How much had you had to drink?” Kevin didn’t like the guy, but again, he had to be careful in the way he handled him. He couldn’t afford another scene like the one he’d had with Brandon.

  “A lot. I was sailing.”

  “Was Megan still driving at this point?”

  “Oh yeah, man, I was in no condition.” Gordon laughed. “She wasn’t either.”

  “What happened after that?”

  “We went by her place so she could get a jacket. A couple of minutes later she jumped in the car, pulls this condom out of her pocket, and sticks it in her purse. Megan had this big grin and I was like, all righty then—whatever you say. I thought that pretty much set the stage for the rest of the night.”

  “Where did you go from there?”

  “First we stopped and got gas in town, then we drove up the road toward Oxbow Mountain. We’d been driving for about half an hour when we came across this bunch of kids, partying and drinking. We got out to get directions and find out if the road to the lookout was okay.” He shifted in his seat. “It’s hard to remember all the details. We were so wasted. I think we stopped at a place on the way there to have a couple of drinks too. By the time we got to where the kids were, Megan was slurring her words and laughing at dumb stuff. I remember she had to lean against a tree a couple of times so she wouldn’t fall down. I helped her back to the car after a few minutes and we motored up the road. We came to this area with a bunch of radio towers. She got out and pretended she was a stripper, spinning around this radio tower and unbuttoning her shirt when she came around each time.

  “She tells me to go get the rubber in her purse. I was like Flash Gordon, man. I booked over to the car but couldn’t find the purse.

  I told her and she starts cussing at me like it was my fault. We figured the kids must have stolen it. She got dressed, and we headed back down the road to find the kids.”

  “Did you find them?”

  “No. They were either gone or we took a wrong turn. We drove around a lot and got lost. Ended up coming out on the highway nowhere near where we went in.”

  “What happened next?”

  “Well, I was still pretty horny and wanted to mess around. I reached over while she was driving and touched her leg. She went ballistic on me, started screaming at me not to touch her. I told her to chill out, but she kept saying everything was in her purse and I wouldn’t understand. I guess her spare apartment key and her credit cards were in there too. She said something about losing the necklace she was going to wear at her wedding.” Gordon slowly wagged his head from side to side. “The woman was crazy. She took me home and barely stopped the car to let me out. I don’t know what time it was for sure, but it was starting to get light.”

  “Did you have any more contact with her?”

  “The next day, I was so hung over, I had to call in sick. I called Megan around noon to see how she was doing. She was in a bad way too. She talked about all the banks she had to call and hoped those kids didn’t try to use her key to break into her pad before she moved or had the locks changed.

  “I asked if she wanted to go out again and she told me she didn’t. Said I was a bad influence. I was cool with that.”

  “You were cool with that?” Kevin rubbed the back of his neck.

  “She rejects you and you are cool with it?”

  “Yeah. Hey, it wasn’t like I was in love with her. I just told her to call me if she wanted to.” Gordon shrugged as if he didn’t care, but his tone conveyed a touch of bitterness.

  Kevin didn’t press the issue. “Any more contact with Megan after that?” he asked.

  “No, that was it. She never called, never stopped by, nothing. I figure she’d decided to go ahead with her wedding until I saw the news reports about her being missing. Now I find out she’s dead.” He rubbed a hand across his mouth. “I started wondering if maybe her boyfriend found out that she’d been with me. Wouldn’t put it past her snoopy sister to tell him. Are you going to talk to him?”

  “That’s the plan.” Kevin grabbed the back of the car seat and leaned forward. “Are you sure you have been completely honest with us, Mr. Reed?”

  “I swear.” He glanced over at the work site. “Look, I got to get back to work.”

  “That’s fine.” Kevin thanked him. “Like I said, you’re not under arrest and you are free to go.”

  Gordon opened the car door.

  “Just one more thing.” Kevin stopped him. “Do you think you could talk to us again later, maybe tomorrow?”

  “Why? I told you everything I know.”

  “You’ve been very helpful, but there are a few more things we’d like to discuss with you. We’d also like you to take a polygraph test.”

  “I don’t know, man. Can’t you just talk to me now?”

  “Actually we have another appointment right now, so we’ll let you get back to work. Can you meet us tomorrow at the Troutdale Police Department—say around eleven-thirty?”

  “Um . . . I guess I could go over on my lunch break.”

  “We’d appreciate that. Like I said before, you’re not a suspect. We’re just gathering information.”

  “Yeah.” He patted his shirt pocket and pulled out a pack of Camels. “I’ll be there.”

  “Good. We ask that you don’t take drugs or drink alcohol for twenty-four hours prior to the test.”

  “Yeah, okay.”

  “Could you give your address and phone number to Detective McAllister so we can get hold of you in case our schedule changes?”

  “Can’t you get it out of your computer?” The guy could hardly wait to get away.

  “If it’s no problem, Mr. Reed, we’d just as soon you tell us.”

  Mac took out a pen and poised it over his notepad.

  “Whatever.”

  Mac took down the information and thanked him for his cooperation. As Gordon walked away from the detectives, he stopped to light up a cigarette, then took several drags before dropping it to the ground and stepping on it. He looked back at them and started up the ladder.

  “What do you think, Mac?” Kevin got into the front seat and fastened his seat belt.

  “He’s an odd duck. Somehow I don’t think he was being completely honest with us.”

  “I know he wasn’t.”

  “He looked pretty scared to me.”

  Kevin laughed. “That’s an understatement. We’ll let him simmer until tomorrow and see if he shows up for
the appointment. Hopefully we’ll have our polygraph examiner in town so we can run a few of these guys over the box.”

  “Did you notice that box cutter on his belt?” Mac started the car and put it in drive. “It could have been the murder weapon.”

  “You’re wondering why I didn’t secure it?” Kevin asked.

  “Crossed my mind.”

  Kevin rubbed the back of his neck where a good-sized knot had developed. “Mine too, but I decided to take the chance. Didn’t want to spook him too much. Too bad the victim’s arms weren’t intact; I’d like to know if she had any resistance wounds.”

  “I have to tell you, Kevin. Mr. Reed just moved up a notch on my suspect list. I’d put him slightly ahead of our purse snatcher.”

  “I know what you’re saying, but let’s not get too focused on one suspect yet. It may cause us to miss subsequent clues. When you write your report on this interview, make sure you leave these guys as ‘mentioned persons’ in the data entry section so we don’t get hurt later in court.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t want some defense attorney throwing barbs at us if we make an arrest on a totally different suspect down the road. We need to be careful about who we call ‘suspects’ in our reports until we narrow in on someone. We don’t want any avenue for doubt if and when we make an arrest and go to trial. What we write in our reports now may be subject to questions a year from now when the defense is trying to sway the jury.”

  Mac nodded. “There’s a lot to think about, and I definitely don’t want to mess things up. What time are we picking up Cindy?”

  “We said nine o’clock.” Kevin looked at his watch. “I have ten after eight. What do you say we head over to Starbucks and grab a cup of coffee?”

  “You read my mind. I could use a little caffeine in my blood before we meet up with Megan’s fiancé.” Mac grimaced. “Besides, we need to air out this buggy.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  After stirring his coffee, Mac stuffed his wallet into his back pocket, picked up his cinnamon roll, and took the armchair across from Kevin.

  Kevin took a tentative sip. “Ah, this hits the spot. Thanks.”

  “No problem. Thanks for the training sessions. You’re good. A lot of the questions you asked probably wouldn’t have occurred to me.” Mac licked the cream cheese frosting from his finger and bit into the treat. He needed to stop eating this kind of stuff, but passing up that cream cheese frosting was like saying no to coffee.

  Kevin nodded. “When you’re old and gray like me, you’re bound to remember a few tricks.”

  “What’s this ‘old and gray’ stuff?” Mac asked. “You look like you’re in better shape than I am. And definitely younger looking than old Gordon.” He meant it too. Kevin still had the physique of a well-toned athlete.

  Kevin sneezed and apologized.

  “Bless you.” Mac offered the obligatory remark.

  “Thanks.” He reached into his pocket for a tissue. “I wish these allergies would go away. That tar and soot must have set me off.”

  “Yeah—I meant to say something about that. I doubt the smell or the soot will ever come out of my car. I’ll have to have the upholstery professionally cleaned.”

  “Sorry about that.” Kevin put away his tissue and took another sip of coffee. “Send the cleaning bill to the department. I’ll okay it.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.” Kevin grinned. “Say, did you take my advice with your girl last night?”

  Mac shook his head. “I didn’t have to. Linda was at my place when I got home. She apologized to me and made me dinner. She didn’t even seem upset that I got home so late.”

  “Sounds like a nice gal. It takes a special kind of woman to put up with jobs like ours. My Jean hated the long hours at first, but she got used to it. If you want, maybe we could get the two of them together. Jean could give her some tips.”

  “Sounds good.” Mac tucked the thought away, wondering how Linda would react. Maybe he wouldn’t tell her. It seemed easier to schedule a dinner out and let Jean just talk.

  Kevin leaned back in the chair and settled his right foot over his left knee. “Jean wasn’t always so understanding. In my early days as a detective, my partner was a woman. I spent more time with Gail than I did with Jean.” He shook his head. “My wife was one jealous woman. She tried not to be, but there was a lot of tension for a while. It didn’t help that Gail was one of the first woman detectives in the department at that time. Luckily the partnership didn’t last. Gail transferred to San Francisco, where there was a more liberal view of women detectives.”

  They drank coffee and talked shop and watched people until ten till nine when Kevin checked his watch. “We better get going.”

  The detectives pulled up in front of Cindy’s place at two minutes after nine. Cindy appeared at the door before they could get out of the car and jogged toward them.

  Kevin got out and opened the back door for her, directing her to the cleaner side of the backseat. “Sorry about the obnoxious smell,” Mac said. “My partner here insisted we put a human tar pit in here while he talked to him.”

  “It’s okay. I’m glad you’re taking me. I hate to drive around the airport.”

  “How are you doing today?” Kevin asked.

  “Better. I’m sad, but on the other hand it’s good to finally know what happened. The medical examiner released Megan’s body, so we’re having the funeral on Tuesday.”

  “Is anyone helping with the service?”

  Mac wondered why Kevin had asked.

  “I called the church where my father was priest. The priest there agreed to do the service and the women’s guild is putting together some food for a reception after the interment. Tim is going to help financially since Megan didn’t have insurance or anything.”

  “That’s nice of him.” Kevin twisted around in his seat so he could see her without straining his neck.

  “Like I said, he’s a nice guy. He called this morning and said his flight was going to be about twenty minutes late. I hope I didn’t mess things up, but I told him you guys would be coming along with me.”

  “That’s fine,” Kevin assured her. “We’re not trying to surprise or trick anyone here. Did he seem concerned?”

  Cindy removed her hair band and shook out her blonde hair.

  “No, not really. He’s not a very excitable guy, really mellow and softspoken.” She gathered her hair up again and secured it with the beaded hair band. She wore makeup this morning, Mac noticed, and looked much more put together. Mac couldn’t help but wonder if her improved appearance might be for Tim Morris’s benefit.

  Mac drove north on I-205, taking the Airport Way exit just prior to crossing the Columbia River into Washington State. He drove west to Portland International Airport’s lower terminal and parked in the Police Only Tow Away Zone spot right in front of the entrance to the baggage area. Mac draped his blue raid jacket over the steering wheel of the car, displaying the large yellow State Police lettering.

  “I need to get me one of those.” Cindy smiled. “That would come in handy at the mall when I’m looking for a parking spot.”

  Mac chuckled and followed Cindy and Kevin as they passed through the automatic door of the terminal. Cindy seemed more animated today, using comical expressions and waving her arms as she talked. I bet her sister was like that—bubbly and cute. Cindy’s image faded as the autopsy photographs came to mind. He cleared his throat and set his jaw. I’ll catch the guy who did this to you, Megan. I promise. Mac hurried to catch up.

  “Can I get you a cup of coffee or anything while we wait?” Kevin asked Cindy.

  “No thanks. I’m good. I’ll just end up having to use the bathroom all morning if I do.”

  Kevin studied the arrival times on the video display in the terminal. “There it is. Looks like Tim is coming in at gate C-16, so let’s head down there.”

  At the passengers-only checkpoint, the detectives showed their badges
and got clearance to go all the way to the gate. Once there they sat in the gray plastic seats to wait.

  “I’m going to grab a paper,” Cindy told Mac and Kevin after a few minutes. “Be right back.” They watched her hurry down the concourse and disappear into the store.

  “She seems kind of restless.” Kevin turned back around.

  “Maybe she’s nervous about our being here.” Mac stayed focused on the storefront. “Do you think I should keep an eye on her?”

  “That’s not necessary. I’m thinking she’s more nervous about meeting Mr. Moneybags. Notice how she’s had nothing but good things to say about him today.”

  “Yeah. Looks like she spent a lot of time in front of the mirror this morning too. You don’t suppose she’s got a thing for this guy, do you?”

  Kevin leaned back in his chair. “You thinking motive? Like with Megan out of the way she has a straight shot at this guy?”

  Mac shrugged. “Somehow I don’t see her as the type of person who would commit a brutal crime like that.”

  “I don’t either, but that doesn’t mean she couldn’t have hired the job out.”

  Cindy came out of the store with a paper tucked under her arm. “I don’t see it,” Mac said, watching the pretty blonde walk toward them. “She’s not the type.”

  “I hope you’re right, Mac. I do hope you’re right.”

  Cindy settled into the chair she’d occupied earlier and flipped through the pages of the Oregonian, pausing at the metro section.

  “The story is in the paper again.” She held it open for them to see.

  Mac leaned over and read the headline: “Troutdale Woman’s Death Still a Mystery.” He glanced at the article, which detailed Megan’s disappearance and the recovery of her body.

  “Nothing new, just asking for information on leads,” Kevin said. “Of course, I wouldn’t trust anything in that publication anyway. You might as well grab a tabloid off the grocery store stands; it’s probably more accurate with less exaggeration.”

  Mac was surprised by the comment. He’d never really thought about it. The paper seemed to cover things adequately, even though it did tend to be on the liberal side. He and Cindy had read most of the paper by the time Tim’s plane touched down on the tarmac. The Northwest Airlines jet taxied up to the arrival gate, and several minutes later they were standing beside the door waiting for passengers to disembark.