“Yes, but they are positioned on the door and sidewalk. She threw the rock from the middle of the street. Come on, I’d just left, Pete saw her running—that should fly in any court.” He was fired up.
“Maybe. Are you willing to prosecute, Mr. Acosta?”
His expression changed, softened somewhat. “What do you mean?”
“Go to court, testify to what you know, add to what Pete saw.”
It was as if the man were a balloon popped by a pin. “I, uh . . . That’s time-consuming. You were looking for her anyway?”
“Yeah, I need to speak to her about another matter.”
He blew out a breath and tossed his keys from one hand to the other.
A lot of nervous energy, Tess thought. Then she saw it. His key chain was busted. Only a portion of the P from the PSS was still there. She stiffened, alarms going off like crazy. What did she know about Beto Acosta?
“I’ll need the report of the damage for my insurance,” he said. “But that girl . . . she’s a little off. I’m not sure prosecution is the way to go. She does need help; maybe you can get her some?”
Tess tore her eyes away from the keys and bit back a rude retort. She hated it when people thought cops were social workers. And the suggestion was coming from someone she now considered a murder suspect.
But how to proceed? Gabe had said the key chains were common. Maybe they were cheaply made as well. And she didn’t want to spook him in any event. She wanted to get to her office and do some checking on Beto Acosta.
“We can take her to jail, Mr. Acosta. She broke your front window? That’s a big window as I recall. You’re the victim here.”
“So much going on in town. A man murdered. Um, I don’t think I have the heart to prosecute the girl.” He calmed noticeably as he twirled the keys, and Tess considered his swift mood changes.
“Funny,” Del said. He handed Acosta a card with a report number.
“What’s that?” Tess asked, preoccupied with thoughts about Acosta and whether she should press him now about the key chain or work on a backdoor approach, finding more evidence that would point to him as a killer with motive, means, etc.
“Tilly’s never been violent. I kinda wonder what made her so mad.”
“Are you accusing me of something?” Suddenly Acosta bounced back to red-faced and angry.
Del started to say something, but by reflex Tess stepped up to his defense.
“Officer Jeffers simply made an observation. But your reaction troubles me. Did you do or say something that she took exception to?”
“I resent that!” He got all puffed up.
Tess decided to press. “I didn’t mean it the way you took it. I’ve never met this Tilly, but I’ve heard a lot about her. I know she’s unpredictable. Can you help me out here?”
Acosta settled down but kept jingling his keys. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess I can.”
“Where were you Thursday morning?”
“What?” He frowned, defensiveness back. “Why do you need to know that?”
“I wondered if you’d seen Tilly then.”
He huffed. “I’m between houses right now. I rent a room at Charlie’s. I slept in until about eleven; then I hung out with Cole for a bit. We like to shoot the breeze when his wife is out of town.”
“So you didn’t see Tilly?”
“Didn’t I just say that?” He moved toward the door, chest puffed out in indignation. “You two need to remember I’m a business owner who not only pays your salary, but who’s just been the victim of a crime. I don’t deserve to be accused of anything.”
“And no one accused you of anything. You have your report for the insurance company, Mr. Acosta. If that’s all, let Officer Jeffers get back to work.”
He was already backing out the door. “You betcha, Chief.” He glared at Tess and turned on his heel.
Tess shook her head after Acosta slammed the door. She turned to Del, who regarded her thoughtfully.
“He sure didn’t like your line of questioning.”
“Yeah, how about that. Did you notice his key chain? It was busted.”
Del’s eyebrows arched. “Broken key chain?”
“Yep. Would Acosta have a reason to kill Glen?”
“Ah, man.” He brought a hand to his chin. “I’ve always liked the guy. He’s pro law enforcement. I’m floored. It must be coincidence.” But then he frowned. “Yet he was acting awfully strange just now. I guess if he were anyone else, I might have suspected that—”
“He was under the influence?”
He held her gaze and nodded.
Tess hiked a shoulder. “Maybe we need to dig into Mr. Acosta. But first, we have to find Tilly.”
“Agreed.”
“And I’d like to search that area across the creek, see if anything there can help. I trust you know the quickest way to get there?”
“I do.”
“I have to make a phone call. Once it’s finished, let’s head up there.”
Tess walked past him to her office. Deciding to delay talking to Steve about Acosta, Tess knew there was another call she needed to make. She sat down and took a deep breath, trying to put Acosta on the back burner.
One call. A difficult call because she was pessimistic about Anna’s condition. Familiar with loss herself, Tess knew this loss would bash Oliver Macpherson harder than he’d ever been hit. She had his contact info but couldn’t punch the numbers. Instead, she phoned the church office.
Was Anna Macpherson still alive?
35
“It’s obvious someone has been here,” Del said as they reached the spot across from the murder scene. He’d taken Tess to a place above where Glen was killed, to a natural bridge formed by logs that made it possible to ford the creek. And crossing above made it easy for them to hike down to the spot they were looking for.
“This is where the kids who ride dirt bikes on BLM land cross,” Del told Tess as they’d carefully made their way along the logs.
Once they reached their goal, it was clear the area had seen a lot of activity for a long time. There were rocks here that made good seats or hiding places, and there was also trash, cigarette butts, beer cans, food wrappers, and crude graffiti.
“Kids have been coming up here to smoke pot for as long as I can remember,” Del said. “Technically not our jurisdiction; it’s BLM’s. We chase kids away when we can, but . . .” He shrugged and Tess knew what he meant. Rogue’s Hollow had personnel for Rogue’s Hollow, not to police outside their boundaries.
Finding the spot only confirmed what they’d deduced; it didn’t move them any closer to finding the killer. And Tess was nursing some disappointment. Logan had called; he couldn’t make it back to the Hollow today, but he’d be by on Monday.
They went back to town, and both concentrated on finding Tilly.
She eluded them all day Sunday. Tess teamed up with Del and he showed her some nooks and crannies in Rogue’s Hollow that she’d not yet seen. She knew that there were issues in the one trailer park in town because whenever someone was arrested for possession, they seemed to come from the park.
Del introduced her to the park manager, who, he said, was trying to clean up the park.
“It’s a family park,” Henry Polk told her. He was probably in his seventies, but spry and wiry, with a head of thick white hair and smoking a pipe. Tess couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen anyone smoking a pipe.
“I don’t want it to be a senior park; I like kids. It’s the older kids who cause problems. Sometimes I wonder if that won’t be the way to go to keep trouble away—make it a fifty-five and older park.”
“I appreciate your efforts,” Tess said.
“As for Tilly, she’s not been here, but there are a couple of no-accounts who live in spaces 30 and 32 who are quick to give her rides. She’s not allowed to stay here.” He puffed on his pipe. “But I can’t be everywhere all the time.”
Tess and Del thanked him and checked out the two spaces, but no one w
as home. The spaces backed up to forest and were overflowing with junk and debris.
“Does Martha come here to cite people?” Tess asked Del, referring to the town’s code enforcement officer.
“Not by herself. But I’ll talk to Gabe and we’ll make it a point to come over here with her.”
When they returned to the station, Delia and Ellis Peabody were there with a pile of flyers for Duncan.
“Have you heard anything at all, Chief?” Ellis asked.
She could tell neither of them had gotten any sleep. “No, I haven’t. Have you given any thought as to where he might run to?”
They looked at one another.
“Klamath Falls, maybe Portland.”
“I’ve sent BOLOs to both those agencies. He’ll turn up, I’m certain.”
Delia was on the verge of tears. “This scares me, Chief, because of the murder. Suppose there’s some crazed serial killer out and my—” She couldn’t finish her sentence and dissolved into tears. Ellis grabbed his wife by the shoulders and held her tight.
“Mrs. Peabody, I can’t see Duncan’s disappearance being related to the murder of Glen Elders at all. I believe that murder was a personal matter, not the work of a crazed serial killer. Please, try not to let your mind wander; it will only make you crazy.”
She blew her nose and they both nodded and then left to paper the town with their flyers.
Tess worked in the office for the remainder of the day, digging into Beto Acosta. She noted that the church was packed for services and even afterward. Casey Reno called and told her Oliver was staying at the hospital with Anna, but that there had been no change.
Reno was guarded in her comments, though still hoping for the best, Tess thought after hanging up with her. She had faith, like Oliver did, that some good God was in control and eventually things would work out.
But with no luck finding Tilly and only bad news coming from the hospital, Tess had a horrible feeling that things were not going to work out . . . and they were only going to get worse.
–––
Monday morning Tess rubbed her tired eyes with one hand while she picked up the buzzing phone with the other. Her phone said John Reno, and for a second the name didn’t register. It had been after midnight before Tess got back to her room to go to bed. Then she remembered Casey. Oh no, was Anna dead?
“Chief O’Rourke,” she answered formally, sleep still fogging her brain.
“Hope you were . . . well, that I didn’t wake you up.”
Tess glanced at the time. “I should have been up twenty minutes ago.”
“Guess today I’m your alarm clock. I called to tell you the dog is ready to be released.”
The dog? For a second that confused Tess. She was immersed in Anna Macpherson and Tilly Dover and neither woman had a dog. Then she remembered Glen Elders and his pit bull.
“Oh, that dog. Released? Already? She had her leg amputated, didn’t she?”
“Yeah, she did. But she’s stitched up and healing well. The vet I took her to doesn’t board animals and they need the space there for sick dogs.”
Tess bit her tongue to keep from blurting out, “What am I going to do with a dog?” It had been her decision to save the dog, not euthanize her, and she had the charge on her credit card to prove it. It was a little too late to push the problem off to someone else. She realized she’d have to take precious time and go collect her.
“I’d help you out if I could,” Casey said. “But I’m at the hospital with Pastor Mac.”
“Any update on Anna?” She hadn’t been good the night before.
“No, nothing new. She went through such a physical trauma, and cancer has so compromised her body . . .” She sniffled and Tess felt the pain radiate over the phone. A lump rose in her own throat; Anna was her closest friend here.
“Please catch whoever did this,” Casey said with a sob in her voice.
“I’ll do my best. With the dog as well. Glen might have family that wants her, though I haven’t come across anyone yet. I’ll work something out. Hopefully Addie doesn’t mind dogs at the inn.”
“I think you’ll be fine. I’ll touch base with you when I get home.”
“Thanks. Tell Pastor Mac . . . well, tell him that he and Anna are in my thoughts.”
Tess disconnected and got out of bed to stretch. Thinking of Anna and Oliver made her ready to start the day even though she could use more sleep. They needed her to find a killer. And now she had a suspect. She’d already built a thick file on Beto Acosta. Forty-five years old, he was actually an ex-cop. He’d lasted two years on the job in New York, but that was twenty years ago. Now, he’d been CEO of PSS for ten years. He was divorced, which she guessed was the reason he was “between houses” and renting a room at Charlie’s.
He’d also hurt his back in a car accident two years ago, and that made Tess wonder if the guy was hooked on pain pills. His behavior in the office indicated something was up in that area.
She paused her search when the phone rang with a familiar number. Jeannie Haligan. It was good to hear her friend’s voice. One of the many things Tess missed about Long Beach was the dispatch center. She’d been told by her first training officer to treat the dispatchers with respect because their job was a lot harder and more stressful than police work. At first Tess thought the man was teasing until he took her into the center one night and let her listen to what the dispatchers put up with. She’d sat with Jeannie for a shift and she understood what he meant. It wasn’t just people who needed help who called 911; crazy people called, angry people called, and some downright scary people called. And people were more inclined to be nasty on the phone than face-to-face with someone carrying a gun.
After one particularly contentious call, Jeannie, angry and frustrated, turned to Tess. “And when you get there, in uniform, with your partner, both of you armed, that guy will be all sweetness and light.”
Tess had left the communication center at end of watch, shaking her head. Dispatch was a job she could never do. Here in Jackson County, Oregon, there was one main dispatch center in Medford. All the 911 calls went there and the Rogue’s Hollow cops were dispatched from there. While Tess had been given a tour when she was first hired, it was too far to go to drop in for a visit, and she missed being able to do that.
So she appreciated the chance to talk to Jeannie, who had a different take on the case. Jeannie had been hired about the same time as Tess, and as soon as they met, they became fast friends.
“It’s the husband. It’s always the husband,” Jeannie said.
“He’s a preacher. Why would he kill his wife’s cousin and send his wife over the falls?”
“Must be a girlfriend somewhere. Maybe the cousin tried to stop him?”
“Well, the cousin is dead and the wife is alive—barely. And I don’t think the pastor is a cold-blooded murderer.”
“You do; you just don’t want to admit it. Just because he’s a pastor doesn’t mean he’s not a murderer. Does he have a gun?”
That gave Tess pause. She hadn’t asked. Would she have asked if he wasn’t a pastor?
“This is Oregon; everyone has a gun,” she answered with a flippancy she didn’t really feel. “This guy doesn’t give me any negative vibes.” Confidence returned quickly. Macpherson was genuinely concerned on Thursday morning. He didn’t kill Glen and then try to kill his wife.
“He could have hired someone.”
They went back and forth for nearly an hour, Jeannie being the devil’s advocate. The more they threw out possibilities, the more a scenario formed in Tess’s mind. It all came back to the money. She was sure Glen was killed because of it. And there was the thought they’d had about setting a trap at the station for a burglar. But if Beto Acosta was their guy, and the money was his, why hadn’t he reported the theft?
She showered and dressed quickly, remembering to call down and ask Addie to fix her a breakfast burrito to go.
Half an hour later, coffee and burrito in hand, Tes
s walked to the station only to find Mayor Dixon there already.
She’d rather have seen the angry crowd return.
“Good morning, Mayor. What can I do for you?” Tess asked as she pushed the door open with her hip. Dixon could see her hands were full, but he made no move to open the door for her.
“The city is falling apart. What are you doing about it?” He followed her in.
She worked hard to keep her face neutral as she nodded to Sheila and continued into her office.
“I’m doing my job, what you hired me to do.” She put her things down on her desk, realizing the forlorn hope of eating her burrito warm had just evaporated. “I’d like to bring the day shift up on everything that went on over the weekend.”
“The day shift is one officer.”
She cocked her head. “He still needs to be informed.”
Just then Gabe Bender poked his head into the office. “Anything up, Chief?”
Tess held Dixon’s eyes. “Well, Mayor? Are you going to let me get back to work?”
“I think you’re in over your head.”
“Mayor, I’m—”
“I didn’t come here to hear excuses. I want you to call in the sheriff, have him take over the murder investigation and whatever happened to Anna Macpherson.”
Tess stared at him, blood boiling. True, the man standing before her was her boss, but there was nothing the sheriff could do with both investigations that she couldn’t do.
“I and my people have things under control. Sergeant Logan is helping. There’s no reason for us to turn the entire investigation over to another agency.”
“I think there is. The sheriff has the resources to solve these crimes. You can work on the runaway case of Duncan Peabody.”
“I disagree.”
He folded his arms. “Then you give me no choice but to call an emergency meeting of the city council in order to discuss your continued employment with us.”
Tess felt the blow of those words but kept herself calm, her face blank. She had been a cop for too long not to have perfected the cop face in the event of shocking or hurtful news. Even after being blindsided, rule #1 applied: “Listen. Think. Speak.”
Crisis Shot Page 20
