“We have a long list of characters associated with this murder, Eric. Unfortunately, none of them meets the three criteria as yet.”
“Ah yes—the old motive, means, and intent,” Eric recited.
Kevin winked at Mac. “Exactly. I suppose I should add not yet—at least not with the information we have so far. Personally, I don’t think we’ve met our guy. And don’t say it, Eric; I know what you’re thinking.”
“Don’t form an opinion; stay objective,” Eric and Kevin said at the same time.
“Yeah, a wise old coot taught me that.” Eric looked at Mac and cocked his head at Kevin.
“I think he’s trying to teach me the same thing.” Mac grinned.
“I just hope you’re quicker than your cousin,” Kevin joked.
Cousin? So Eric had told them they were related. He felt himself tighten up again. What, if anything, had Eric said to Kevin? Had he talked about him to the other men as well? You’re being paranoid, Mac told himself. Just because your dad was a dirty cop doesn’t mean they’ll expect it of you. Besides, maybe they don’t know.
It had been years ago, in another state. Maybe Eric didn’t even remember. He was only a teenager at the time and the families weren’t all that close.
While his thoughts had taken him on another foolish rabbit trail, Eric and Kevin were still clowning around. Kevin had Eric in a headlock, messing up his hair.
“All right, all right.” Eric shook his head. “I give up. Get out of here so I can get some work done.” Eric finger-combed his hair back into a semblance of order.
“Hey, buddy.” Kevin chuckled. “I noticed your hair is feeling a little thin on top. Could be pattern baldness setting in. I’d make an appointment with the wig salesman if I were you—though I doubt they’d ever be able to match the color.”
“I said get outta here.” Eric spoke in a stern voice but couldn’t quite hide his grin. “Don’t forget you have a two o’clock at Fitness First to interview Megan’s coworker.”
“What’s the name again?”
“Meredith Hoyt. Better write that down, old-timer, so you won’t forget.”
“Don’t worry, baldy, my new partner’s mind is like a steel trap. He’s also better looking.”
“No argument there. You two be careful; I don’t want to cut a one percent check this month.”
Mac hadn’t heard that phrase used in a while. It reminded him that even though he was no longer a uniformed trooper, the job still held its dangers. It was a morbid joke among state troopers in Oregon. If you were killed on duty, all members of the force paid the next of kin one percent of their monthly income. The money went toward the burial of the trooper. From what Mac had heard, it was a long-held tradition to show their honor and appreciation to the fellow officer and the family.
Kevin started for the door. “Hey, Mac, are you ready for lunch?”
“More than.” As if on cue, Mac’s stomach growled loudly in agreement.
“Let me know what you find out at the health club this afternoon,” Eric called after them.
“Yes, Mother,” Kevin yelled as he and Mac jogged down the stairs to the exit.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Mac settled into his car and secured the seat belt.
“What did you think of that ring Tim described?” Kevin asked. “It sounds like a real dandy.”
Mac laughed. “I’m not going to tell my girlfriend about it, that’s for sure. I don’t want her getting any ideas.”
“If she’s like my Jean, she won’t care whether it’s a diamond chip or the Hope diamond. It’s what the ring stands for, not the physical appearance or price tag.”
“Do you think the killer took Megan’s ring?”
“I’d put money on it. Either he thought he could make a quick buck or wanted to keep it as a souvenir. A ring like that would probably bring him over five hundred from a fencer, or a dishonest pawnbroker. We’ll get the description of the ring to local pawnshops, in case he sold it. Or the killer may want it for a keepsake, a token to remember the victim by when he relives the murder.”
“Sounds sadistic.”
“Hopefully we aren’t dealing with someone who actually enjoys killing. That would fit the profile of a serial killer.”
“You don’t think that’s what this is, do you?” Mac thought about the Green River murders and how long it took to finally find the killer.
“You never know,” Kevin said.
Mac suddenly had an idea. “Would the cleanup guys out at the body dumpsite have used a metal detector to check for the ring or any other jewelry?”
“Good question, my friend. They should have.” Kevin got on the phone to Eric, who told him that no metal detector had been used.
“Make a little detour, Mac. Head back to the P.D. Our fish and game troopers have a detector stored inside that little office they share with the patrol troops. I’m sure it’s still there. They use it during big game season to scan illegal deer and elk kills for bullets. I understand it’s a pretty sensitive machine.”
Mac made a U-turn and less than a minute later was back at the Troutdale P.D. He left the engine running and jogged inside. The receptionist led him to the small office, where he found the detector propped in a corner. He jotted off a hurried note and left.
“Got it,” he told Kevin as he popped the trunk, moved his equipment aside, and set it in.
“We’ll grab a bite on the way down to Bonneville State Park. We should have time to scan the area and make our two o’ clock back in Troutdale.”
They stopped at the Burger Barn, a local restaurant known for its one-pounders with the works, and ate their hamburgers and fries on the run. Mac was finished with his before Kevin had taken two bites. “You guys right out of patrol always amaze me,” Kevin said.
“How’s that?” Mac stuffed his garbage into the fast food bag.
“You eat like there’s no tomorrow. You really ought to take your time and chew your food. And I don’t want to hear the excuse that you get used to eating fast because you might get a call and have to run out on your lunch.”
“I get used to eating fast because I never know when I’ll get a call and have to run out on my lunch.” Mac grinned.
“Smart guy.” Kevin smiled back. “Well, unless you want to look like Philly in a couple of years, you better reprogram yourself.”
“Good advice.” Mac took a sip of his twenty-ounce Coke. “Are you going to eat those fries?” He reached for Kevin’s bag.
Kevin grabbed the bag and set it out of Mac’s reach. “I’d throw them away before I gave them to you. Now get your meat hooks out of there.” By the time they reached the park, Kevin had finished his burger and fries.
“Eric said we had the Explorer Scouts from the sheriff ’s office walk through the entire park. They turned up a lot of junk, old clothes, and mail. Nothing of obvious evidentiary value, though.
We have it in an evidence locker. Might not hurt to go through it.”
Mac drove past the main entrance and took the dirt utility road he’d taken the day they recovered Megan’s body.
“Mac, remind me when we get back to check my box at the main office. I asked the state park folks for a list of campers for the first two weeks of August. The info should have been faxed or mailed by now.”
Mac whistled. “You’re talking hundreds, even thousands of names. You aren’t going to check all those, are you?”
“Not me, you.” He grinned. “Actually, we may not need to—at least not for a while. If and when we run out of leads or are unable to make an arrest, we’ll go to the roster and start checking names.
The important thing in a case like this is that you secure any possible item of relevance while it still exists. We don’t want to lose it like we did the tape at the Plaid Pantry store Philly and Russ went after. That videotape would have been great evidence, but we couldn’t get on it immediately so we lost it. Consequently, we don’t want to find out six months or six years from now that things li
ke the park registry records are gone.”
Mac nodded, amazed at how many details detectives had to keep track of. Pulling onto the dirt shoulder just past a big maple tree, he cut the engine, popped open the trunk, and got out. As his gaze settled on the body dumpsite, he remembered the smell and condition of the body. The hamburger and fries he’d eaten rolled over in his stomach. Don’t think about it, he told himself. Think about why you’re here.
Mac hauled the detector out of the trunk and turned the power button on to its maximum sensitivity setting. With Kevin walking beside him, Mac worked his way over to the ditch along the debrisstrewn ground. The metal detector sounded as it revealed every bottle lid and scrap of litter along the roadside. He worked his way over to the ditch where the body had been recovered and was surprised that it still smelled. He asked Kevin why.
“There was quite a bit of sloughing because of the heat. Parts of her body virtually melted into the earth. We recovered what we could, but unfortunately some fragments were left behind because the body was so degraded.”
“Wonderful.” Mac began breathing through his mouth as he waved the Frisbee-shaped detector over the ground. The hair rose on the back of his neck as he walked the ground where Megan’s body had been. As before, the stench in the stale air was almost unbearable. He was starting up the slight incline of the ditch, about to abandon their search, when the metal detector sounded.
“I’ve got a hit.” Mac stopped and waved the disk over the area, holding it still above the strongest signal.
Kevin pulled a latex glove out of his pocket and stretched it onto his right hand. He hunkered down to examine the fern under the detector.
Kevin searched through the big leafy fern with his right hand, holding his mini mag flashlight in his left. As he pulled back the base of the fern, the flashlight beam revealed a metallic object.
Kevin brushed the debris and lifted up a broken silver chain, but no diamond ring.
“Looks like I led us on a wild-goose chase.” Mac turned off the machine, disgusted with himself.
“Not at all, Mac.” Kevin examined the chain more closely. “It hasn’t been here too long. Since it’s so close to the dumpsite, we’ll bag it as evidence. Remember, Megan supposedly wore a cross around her neck. This chain is broken, so it could have come off when the body was brought here.”
“Do you really think it could be hers?”
“It’s a long shot, but we’ll ask Cindy if she recognizes it. I’m glad you suggested the search, though. We may not have found the ring, but it does tell us that the killer probably has it.”
Kevin and Mac returned to the car, where Mac removed his evidence kit. “This should do.” Mac held out a small manila envelope.
“Perfect,” Kevin replied as he dropped the silver chain inside.
Mac pulled off a section of blue evidence tape to secure the package, signing the seal. Kevin removed his latex glove and brushed the powder off his hands. Mac placed the metal detector in the trunk alongside his crime scene gear. “I could use a little more trunk space.”
“Just be happy it doesn’t leak,” Kevin replied. “Those squareback Chevy Caprices they used to issue us leaked like a sieve. The rubber molding would freeze to the trunk lid in the winter, tearing out a hunk every time you opened it. Then in the spring, they would start leaking. Nothing better than finding out your gear has fuzzy mold growing on it when you arrive at a crime scene.”
“Humph.” Mac grinned. “Sounds suspiciously like one of those tall tales parents tell their kids about how they used to have to walk to school in a blizzard, uphill, both ways.”
“No, seriously, if you doubt me, take a look at Sergeant Evans’s car—if you can call it that.”
Mac closed the trunk and within minutes they were back on the freeway heading back into town.
“Set a course for the fitness center.” Kevin placed the evidence in the glove box. “Let’s see what Megan’s coworker has to say.”
“Right.” Mac slipped on his sunglasses as they headed into the bright early afternoon sun.
“The old pager is going off.” Kevin checked the numerical display then pulled his cell out of his pocket and punched in some numbers. “Detective Bledsoe here.” Kevin glanced over at Mac. “Yeah, Gordon. What can I do for you?”
“Um, I was talkin’ to some guys on my crew and they told me I shouldn’t take that lie detector test tomorrow. They said maybe I ought to get a lawyer.”
“Well, that’s certainly your right, Mr. Reed. But like I said, if you didn’t have anything to do with Megan’s death you don’t have anything to worry about.”
“I still feel like this is a setup or something.”
“Why do you say that?” Kevin was losing patience with the man.
“That’s what you dudes are all about. You make things fit your little case and tack a guy with a trumped-up charge.”
“Tell you what, why don’t you meet with us as planned and see what the polygraph is all about? If you don’t want to take it then, that’s fine. But it would help put to rest any doubt that you may be involved.”
“I don’t know. Let me think about it.”
“You do that, Gordon—it’s entirely up to you.”
“Um . . . okay, maybe I will, but I need to come earlier because of some things I got to do.”
“That’s fine. We could make you our first appointment at, say, eight or eight-fifteen.”
“What do you mean your first? You have other people taking the test?”
“Yes. Several other individuals who want to cooperate.”
“Okay then. This better not be some trick, man, or I’m outta there.”
“No tricks, Gordon; you have my word.” Kevin turned off the phone and tipped his head back against the seat. “Lord, give me strength—and patience.”
“Our roofer getting cold feet?” Mac asked.
“Like icicles. He’s afraid we’re setting a trap for him.” He tucked the phone away and rubbed his eyes as weariness set in. Maybe he was getting too old for this business. He certainly was losing patience with people like Gordon Reed. “We need to pin this guy down; he’s going sideways on us. If he doesn’t show up in the morning for the polygraph, he moves to the top of the list.”
Mac adjusted the visor. “I’d be very surprised if he comes. I think we should take him into custody before he has a chance to run.”
“I think you’re less patient than I am. Remember, slow and steady wins the race.” Kevin pointed to the strip mall on their left.
“There’s the fitness center.”
Mac turned into the left lane, pulling into the mall parking lot.
“Well, if the guy cuts and runs, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Kevin just smiled.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Kevin and Mac walked in the front door of the modernlooking health club. The entrance opened to an enormous room with multiple rows of exercise machines. In the far back corner, mirrored walls reflected several free weight stations along one side and two rows of treadmills on the other.
“Welcome to Fitness First! You must be my afternoon date,” an attractive brunette in her early twenties said as they approached the front counter. She grinned at them and winked. Her hot pink two-piece spandex exercise suit pushed Mac’s temperature up a notch, and judging from the rosy blotches creeping up Kevin’s neck, he wasn’t immune either. Mac read the name Meredith on her nametag.
“Hello, I’m Detective McAllister,” Mac said when Kevin didn’t say anything. “This is my partner, Detective Bledsoe. Are you Meredith Hoyt?”
“Live and in person.” She flashed them an even wider smile. “I thought you two were the cops; most people don’t come to work out in suits. Although you both look like you’re no strangers to the gym.”
“We try to stay in shape.” Kevin straightened his tie.
“I’ll be with you in a minute. You can wait for me in the clientorientation office right behind you.” Meredith picked u
p the phone and paged another employee on the intercom.
Mac and Kevin walked in the small room that barely held the desk and three chairs. “You’re no stranger to the gym,” Mac mimicked when they sat down in the chairs. “She had you hook, line, and sinker. I bet you’re ready to sign up for a two-year health club membership.”
“Oh, hush. What do you know about muscles? The poor girl couldn’t help herself. She’s only human, you know.” Kevin fluffed his hair and gave his eyebrows a double raise.
Mac laughed so hard his gum flew out of his mouth and landed on the floor under the desk. As he reached for the gum, Meredith entered the room. He sat back up in the chair, intentionally avoiding eye contact with Kevin so he wouldn’t break up again.
“I’ve got my trainee running the counter, so I apologize in advance if she has to interrupt us. Since Megan . . . um . . . left us, we’ve had to hire someone else to fill her shift.”
“We appreciate you taking the time to talk to us.” Kevin cleared his throat and started the interview. “Could you tell us a little about your relationship with Megan Tyson and anything you think is relevant to this investigation?”
“Do you want me to, like, talk about what we did here at work?”
“That would be a great start. Tell us about work.”
“Megan and I were, like, the most radical team. We had more new signs than any other shift at the club.”
I’ll bet. Mac couldn’t imagine himself turning down the pert brunette.
“New signs?” Kevin interrupted.
“Yeah, you know, new clients for the club. People would come in for trial visits and our job was to sell the club membership to them. We ask about their fitness goals and show them how to use the equipment and stuff.”
“Did she have any problems with the customers, or anyone else that you know of? Let me put it this way: Do you know of anyone who would want to cause Megan any harm?”
“No way.” Meredith shook her head. “All the women at the club loved her. Well, some of them hated her because she had such a rad body. I mean, not an ounce of fat. But it was nice hate; everybody liked her here.”
Secrets, Lies & Alibis Page 17
