Macklin

by Mayer, Dale

  She looked up and nodded. “Who is she again?”

  “You’ll see. This could be big.”

  He disappeared only to reappear a few minutes later with an older woman—mid-fifties, maybe early sixties—in tow. She clutched her handbag nervously.

  Alex rose and motioned to the visitor’s chair in front of her desk. “Have a seat please.”

  Lance left them alone, closing the door with a sharp snick. The woman made a jump at the sound. Alex walked around the desk and hitched her hip on the corner. In a gentle, easy tone of voice, she said, “I’m Alex. What can I do for you?”

  The woman took a deep breath. “I’m Betty. My last name is Kroger. And I live on Wagner Road.”

  “In Silver Strand’s?”

  The woman nodded. “Yes, but I’ve been away for the last ten days. I don’t spend a whole lot of time here now, as I lost my son in active duty three months ago, and I just can’t stay here. We don’t have to move out for another nine months, but I want to move out earlier, only I’m still too emotional to pack up his stuff.”

  Inside Alex winced. “I’m so sorry. That’s extremely devastating for anybody.”

  Betty’s shoulders shook, but she regained a bit of control after a moment. She took a deep breath again, let it out, and then tried for a third time.

  “Whenever you’re ready, just tell me what’s going on.”

  Betty shot her a grateful look. “I think my house was broken into,” she said in a rush.

  Alex turned her gaze to the map. She had to get up and walk closer to find Wagner Road. It was within the area she had marked off for the B&Es. “What makes you think that?” She turned to face the woman who, now that she’d gotten the words out, seemed to be calmer.

  “Well, that’s the thing. See? That’s why I didn’t want to come in. My daughter told me that I should. She says there’s been a lot of break-ins and that you needed to know about my place.”

  “Why didn’t you want to come in?”

  “Because I can’t see that anything is missing,” she said in frustration. “I don’t know how to explain that I know somebody was in there, but it …” She lifted her hands in appeal. “It feels different. It feels like a stranger was there. For all I know, he stayed there.”

  “Interesting. As in, you’re afraid he stayed in the spare bedroom? Crashed on the couch? Moved into your room?”

  The woman shrugged. “I don’t know, but potentially yes to all of it.”

  “Okay. Start from the beginning. You got home from visiting your daughter …”

  Betty nodded. “Yes. I’ve been spending a lot of time there with her in San Diego. I’m moving to a house on her street,” she confessed. “I have to move anyway, and the sooner the better, after this.”

  “Completely understandable. Now what happened when you got home?”

  “The door was locked. I unlocked the door, and I walked in,” she said and then retraced her steps. “But it was like being hit almost immediately with a sense of wrongness. I stood in the front entranceway, and I just didn’t know what to do. Now I know I’m very emotional about that property. I spent a lot of time with my son there. I get that. But this just didn’t feel right.”

  “Okay. So tell me what felt wrong.”

  “The smell for one.” She held up a hand. “I know you’ll say the house had been closed up, and of course it was stuffy smelling with no fresh air. But it was cigarette smoke. I swear to God it was cigarette smoke.”

  Alex settled back on the desk, her arms crossed over her chest as she questioned the woman. “And you don’t smoke?”

  “I hate cigarette smoke. My son never smoked either.”

  “Friends of yours?”

  “I can’t stand being around anybody who smokes. It clings to them. It’s in their hair. It’s in their clothing. It’s just terrible.”

  “And how strong an odor was it?”

  She slumped in the chair. “That’s the thing. It wasn’t that strong. So of course I thought I must be making it up.”

  Alex smiled at her gently. “Sometimes our instincts are right. Don’t always knock them.”

  Betty managed her first smile. “Thanks for that.”

  “What happened afterward?”

  Betty seemed to pull herself together, thinking for a long moment, then said, “I took off my jacket and hung it up in the front closet. And that was also off.”

  “Off?”

  Betty nodded. “All the jackets were pushed to one side. But they weren’t pushed to the side that was easily accessible. They were pushed to the far left, so I had to open both doors to get my jacket. I never open that door because it’s behind the front door so it’s awkward to get at. I only open the right-hand door, grab my jacket, and leave.”

  “This time you’re saying, all the coats had been pushed to the left?” At Betty’s nod, Alex walked around the desk, sat down, and grabbed her notepad. “This is good. What else do you remember?”

  “I hung up my coat, went to the kitchen, and put on the teakettle. I dropped my purse on the table there, and that was a sign I wasn’t feeling very secure. I normally put my purse right away in the entryway closet.”

  “So you thought maybe you would need to grab it and run?” Alex asked out of curiosity.

  “I don’t know. It was just one more thing that was off.” The woman shrugged. “I guess it was ten nights and eleven days I was gone, so I knew no food would be in the fridge.” She shook her head. “The thing is, I opened the fridge, maybe out of habit. I normally have milk in my tea, and of course there was no milk. Shouldn’t have been any milk. But I was so rattled at this point, that it was automatic to open the fridge. And milk was there.”

  Alex sat back slowly. “The same brand of milk you use normally?” She studied the older woman, wondering how much of this was memory, how much of this was an intruder, how much of this was a friend who maybe took advantage, and how much did the woman not recollect, given her state of mind before she left.

  “Well, yes. And it was a half-gallon. But it was also open. I wouldn’t have left milk for that long in the fridge. And that was the other thing. It was still good … after ten days?”

  Her tone was almost apologetic, as if she was sorry she’d had to come and say these things.

  “Okay, so let me get this right. You got home. The closet was not the way you’d left it, but the kitchen was the way you’d left it?”

  Betty nodded.

  “The fridge held fresh milk or at least milk not past its due date. And if you were gone ten days …” Alex nodded. “Okay, so what else?”

  “I was a little freaked out over the milk, and I kept looking around to make sure nobody would pop out at me from behind the counter. I told myself that I needed to learn to live alone and not be so scared. And I didn’t have any reason to be scared. It’s not like my son was murdered in his house or anything. And I just didn’t have any reason, but I was jumpy, so I did a quick search of the downstairs. There’s not very many places anybody could hide, behind the couch maybe, but it’s sitting in the middle of the living room, so I could very quickly verify nobody was there. I couldn’t hear anybody, but I found the kitchen door to the backyard was unlocked.”

  “And you normally keep it unlocked?”

  “When I’m there, yes. But I know I locked it before I left.” Betty started to shake. “There are a lot of little things here, and I know they could be contributed to memory loss because I was upset. But I think, when added up, maybe they mean something other than that.”

  “Well, let’s not worry about potential memory loss issues now,” Alex said. “What happened when you found the kitchen door unlocked?”

  “I stepped out on the back porch and looked at the backyard.”

  “And?”

  Betty shrugged. “Nothing was obviously different or wrong. Nobody was there. Nothing had been added or taken away that I could see. It’s just a simple backyard with a couple lawn chairs and a table.”

  �
��Were those chairs and table still in the same place?”

  Betty nodded. “Yes, they were.”

  “Okay. What did you do next?”

  “I went back in and closed the kitchen door. I did not lock it, but that was a deliberate decision.”

  Alex understood. Betty was not only giving herself a chance to grab her purse but she was giving herself an exit. “And then?” Alex prompted.

  “I walked around to the front stairs and made it to the second floor. At the top landing, I saw my bedroom door was closed.”

  Alex tapped the notepad with her pencil. “And I presume that’s not something you would normally do?”

  “Not when I’m there. The only time I would close it would be if I was getting changed. That’s just out of habit.”

  “Do you have any other bedrooms?”

  “Yes, one. That door was open.”

  Alex didn’t like where this was going. “Did you check out the spare bedroom?”

  The woman nodded. “I checked out the spare bedroom. I checked out the bathroom. And honestly I was terrified to open up the master bedroom door.”

  “With good reason. All right, you should’ve called us then.”

  “And have you laugh at me? I’ve had just about enough of people telling me how I should feel and shouldn’t feel, and what I should do and shouldn’t do for the last three months.”

  Alex could relate. Nothing like a disaster to have the world give an opinion about how you should handle things—with very well-meant personalities attached. But those words were not always welcome. “And did you open the door?”

  Betty nodded. “I did. I told myself to stop being a baby, that I had nothing there anybody would want, and it was my home, and I needed to deal with this.”

  Alex settled back and waited. Betty would get through the story on her own time; pushing wouldn’t help.

  “I opened the door, and there was no sign of anyone. I stepped in. It looked the same, except for one thing.” She winced. “I swear to God, it wasn’t the same bedding I had on my bed before.”

  *

  Macklin paid the restaurant bill and headed off to work again. He was attending a series of computer security seminars, and they were all on base. The military was good at constantly upgrading the men’s skill sets. It seemed like the criminals of the world were split in two—those who used muscles and guns to get their way, and those who used computer hacking skills to get their way. Mac was strong on the assholes who liked to shoot and cause mayhem that way—but knew he could never become complacent with his IT skills. The good news was, it meant every one of these seminars was fascinating. There were always new ways to hack systems, new ways to bypass authentication systems, and new ways to hack into bank accounts and government databases. There was just no end to it.

  He’d often wondered about going into that field as a specialty, but he wasn’t quite ready to stay at a desk. That really was a different way of life. Now he got to get the hell out, and he got to visit places all over the world. He was active; he’d always been a bit of a field junkie. But he had to admit that he was fascinated with this whole computer-hacking stuff too; he just didn’t have the innate talent for it. He worked at it. He knew other guys who were unbelievably good. And then of course there were the women he knew, like Tesla, Mason’s girlfriend, and Devlin’s girlfriend, Bristol, both who were brilliant.

  But then they both used computers as an adjunct to their actual design work. They were big thinkers, global thinkers. They could see systems helping people when others were stuck considering how their inventions would work on a smaller scale. Those two women were special that way. He was grateful for the hours he got to spend with them, but he always walked away in awe of just where their brainpower took them. And they were both so damn normal. That really made it nice.

  When the seminar ended, Corey smacked him on the shoulder and said, “You want to go for a run?”

  Mac looked at him in surprise, then thought of the burger and fries he had for lunch. “Yeah, I do. You got a place in mind?”

  Corey nodded. “I heard through the grapevine there could have been another house broken into.”

  “How did you hear that?”

  “The woman who lives there—her son died in the accident overseas. She’s been visiting her daughter in San Diego instead of staying alone at the house. The daughter is friends with an airman buddy. She told him, and he told someone else. … You know how it is. Apparently Mason heard about it. He’d planned to talk to you about it, but he’s in a meeting. It looks like we could be heading overseas pretty quick, and I figured, in the meantime, we should maybe take a run and assess the location of that house versus the others.”

  The two of them walked out, notebooks in hand. “We could just look on a map too,” Macklin said in a dry tone.

  But Corey was a physical guy too. Any chance he had to do things with his legs, he did them. “Yeah, but I could use the exercise,” Corey said with a groan. “And, if we are heading out soon, you know what that can be like. It will screw up our fitness routine completely.”

  “And sometimes these trips exhaust us to the point we need a week off before getting back into doing anything.”

  “Exactly what I meant.” With a big grin, the two headed off to get changed. Just before they separated at the parking lot, Corey said, “Ten minutes.”

  “Where do you want to meet?” Macklin asked.

  Corey looked at him with a smirk. “At your house, bro. We’re going for a long run today.”

  Once home, Macklin raced up the stairs. Corey would be here in less than five minutes. He was up for the run, but at the same time, he was stressed and frustrated. Maybe that was why Corey had suggested a longer run, to do something to wear all that stress down.

  He was dressed and back outside when Corey ran up to him. He tapped Macklin lightly on the shoulder and said, “Let’s go for it,” and he bolted.

  Sprinting and laughing at the same time, Macklin raced to catch up. “We don’t have to sprint, do we?”

  “Nah, just for the first couple minutes to get really warmed up. I feel like we haven’t had a good run in weeks.”

  Macklin groaned. “Are you telling me that we’re settling in for something really big?”

  “I figure we could do 10k easy.”

  Relieved, Macklin picked up the pace, and, as he caught up with Corey, he smacked him on the shoulder and said, “You’re it.” And raced past him. Corey swore, gave a great big shout, and picked up the pace again. Macklin could hear his footsteps pounding behind him. But no way in hell would he let Corey catch up.

  Making a game out of it made the 10k easier to get through. Nothing like a little friendly sibling rivalry to make them all happy.

  After about 6k, Corey said, “We’re taking a right up here.”

  Macklin turned to look around the area and said, “We’re pretty close to the other break-ins.”

  “Exactly. There’s also something weird about that latest break-in.”

  “What? You’re not exactly giving me details here.”

  “There’s a chance the intruder might have moved in for a few days.”

  That almost brought Macklin to a stop.

  Immediately Corey raced ahead. “Got you.”

  Swearing, Macklin caught up with Corey. “So did you mean that, or was that just to set me off my stride?”

  “I meant it. Apparently the bedding had been changed and there was milk, potentially food, in the fridge—as if the guy decided the house was empty, and he should have a place to stay.”

  “So that was likely his base of operation.”

  “Maybe, but the mother’s home now. So what the hell will happen when he finds out?”

  Swearing once again, Macklin pulled out his phone and dialed Alex. He was running, so he tried to stabilize his breath so he didn’t sound like he was a complete moron when she answered. But instead her phone went to voice mail.

  Corey looked over at him. “She alread
y knows. Mason will have contacted her. Plus the daughter said she had convinced her mother to talk to the police.”

  Relieved, Macklin put away his phone. “I want to see this house.”

  “I think everybody does.”

  “But, more important, we need to know if that was his base. And if he made those four hits from there. We still don’t know why he entered those places, and what we really need to know is what his plans are.”

  “If she doesn’t go home again, he might go back on his own.”

  “Well, I’ve already heard about it, and you know the police have heard about it, so what’s the chance this guy has heard it too?”

  The two men exchanged glances.

  “Somebody needs to make sure she’s not going back to her house,” Macklin said. “We’ve already had enough women injured and killed.”

  “Do you really think Marsha’s death is involved in this?” Corey asked.

  “It’s hard not to. Just think about it. How often do we have this many crimes in this area? Serious ones, like this? They’ve got to be connected. Nothing else makes any sense.”

  Chapter 9

  Alex headed her car toward Betty’s house, Betty in the passenger seat. Alex wanted to see the layout and all the issues Betty had pointed out. Betty’s daughter would meet them at the coffee shop and take her mother back to her place. Alex wanted to make sure this was done quietly. If the intruder was still around, watching, she wanted him or her to not realize the cops had found out about Betty’s house. It was the perfect opportunity to go in, set up cameras, and see if they could find out what the hell was going on. There was also a good chance this person had already left the area. But she’d take whatever opportunity she could.

  Betty pointed out the house. Instead of parking out front, Alex parked down the street. She really didn’t want anybody to know they were here or which house they would enter. She pulled on a jacket from her trunk and, with Betty at her side, they walked toward the house and passed it. She went into the neighbor’s backyard and around, as if going to a different house, then slipped behind to Betty’s house. With Betty safely behind her, Alex pulled her weapon and stepped inside. She listened but couldn’t hear or see anything.