“I’ll get back to you as soon as I have something.”
“The kid was seen here earlier today. I’ll let you know if I find him.”
Macy started at one end of the library and worked her way through the stacks. The upstairs mezzanine overlooked the park and the parking lot. She could see Aiden and Luke. Luke was trying to push Aiden on the swings, laughing hysterically when Aiden wouldn’t budge. A couple of teenage boys were walking through the trees. One had a backpack and shoulder-length red hair. They were heading for the bike racks.
Macy took the stairs two at a time and ran headlong across the library’s main floor. By the time she reached the exit at the far end of the foyer, the boy and his bike were gone. She watched him pedal out of the parking lot.
She found her phone and called Alisa again.
“I just missed him,” said Macy. “He’s heading west on Main Street on a bike.”
“I’ll let dispatch know. Hopefully one of our guys will be able to pick him up.”
“I’ll be at the park next to the library. Call me if you hear anything.”
17
Saturday
Wrapped up in bandages and pale from blood loss, Jordan Beech didn’t look particularly menacing lying in his hospital bed. Macy reminded herself of the boot print stamped to her torso. This wasn’t a man you messed with. The authorities in Oklahoma believed he’d only been convicted for a fraction of the crimes he’d committed. He was suspected in dozens of unsolved arson attacks and burglaries. They couldn’t prove he was involved, but that didn’t mean they’d stopped trying.
Grace’s letter was sealed in the evidence bag resting on Macy’s lap. Contrary to what she’d told Grace and Lara, they hadn’t found Jordan Beech’s fingerprints on it until after he was arrested. Macy had lied on a hunch and was relieved when it worked. Jordan Beech was in custody. The fingerprints and a statement from an employee at the coffee shop who’d caught him loitering in the break room increased the likelihood that he’d had Grace’s letter in his possession before the fire.
“So, why Grace Larson?” asked Macy. “You could have followed any woman around Bolton, yet you chose her.”
A shrug.
“Your phone is full of photos of Grace. We know you took them without her knowledge.”
“If you say so.”
“It wouldn’t take much to convince a jury that you were obsessed with her.”
Jordan didn’t respond.
“Mr. Beech, you’re breaking the law just by being in Montana. The terms of your parole forbid you to leave the state of Oklahoma,” said Macy. “Why did you risk coming here? Were you looking for Grace?”
“I came to check on my brother’s property while he’s away working in North Dakota. Come on, now. There’s no harm in doing a brother a favor.”
“We spoke to your brother. He didn’t know you were staying at his place. He told us that he didn’t trust you, that we shouldn’t trust you.”
“Well, he would say that. We don’t always get along.”
“We found a sizeable quantity of oxycodone and fentanyl in your possession. Way more than you’d need for your own personal use.”
“It was at the house when I arrived. Nothing to do with me.”
“Are you saying that the drugs belong to your brother?”
“The man has a problem. I was hoping he’d seek help.”
“The batch numbers on the packaging give us a timeline. The fingerprints confirm they’re yours. We know you picked up the painkillers at a pill mill in Florida within the last two months. It’s only a matter of time before we figure out how much you’ve sold since you started your little road trip. You keep breaking laws at this rate and you can expect to be in prison for a very long time. I, for one, would like to see you stay inside for the rest of your life.”
“I didn’t know you were a cop.”
“Yes, you did. I told you so just before you bashed my head into the pavement.”
“I didn’t see no badge.”
“I would have gladly shown it to you had you given me a chance.” Macy took a deep breath. Losing her temper wouldn’t help matters. “So, I have a theory, Mr. Beech. Do you want to hear it?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“Not really.” Macy held up Grace’s letter. “Last Sunday a coffee shop employee saw you loitering near the break room about an hour after Grace’s last shift there ended. I think you broke into her locker and stole this letter. “
“Never seen it before.”
“It has your fingerprints all over it.”
Silence.
Macy continued. “The letter Grace wrote to Peter Granger must have pissed you off. He wasn’t treating your girl very nicely.”
“Grace Adams isn’t my girl.”
“So, you have heard of Grace after all?”
“Who hasn’t?”
“You’ve been interested in Grace Adams for a long time. Your Web browser has searches about the murders in Collier that date back years. You’ve also left numerous posts on a Web site that’s dedicated to true crime. In recent posts you bragged about meeting Grace Adams. You even posted photos to prove it.” Macy raised an eyebrow at Jordan’s reaction. “Don’t look so surprised, Mr. Beech. Montana may be rural but our computer technicians are really quite skilled. They’ll eventually find every post you’ve ever made, but let’s stick with Grace Adams for now. On one particularly interesting thread you went on and on about how much you loved her and claimed that you would do anything for her. You even mentioned Peter Granger’s name on three occasions. Among other choice threats, you described him as a dead man walking. You posted a photo of this letter in that same thread.”
Macy let that sink in for a few moments.
“Back in Oklahoma, you attempted to burn down the factory where you worked to cover up an assault of one of your colleagues. She was lucky to get out alive. I hear you were obsessed with her too. Witnesses testified that you were angry because she reported you to management for making inappropriate advances. You were convicted on all charges and served ten years.”
“It was her word against mine.” Jordan looked Macy in the eye for the first time. “She lied.”
“We tracked your cell-phone signal on Halloween night. There were several fires set in Bolton over the course of the evening. We’ve managed to put you within range of all of the incidences, including the fire at the Granger’s house.” Macy held up the letter. “Grace threatened to burn down Peter Granger’s house. She says it was all a fantasy, but you saw it as an opportunity to impress her. After all, you did say that you’d do anything for Grace. Must have blown your mind when you saw what was hanging on Peter Granger’s walls. I wouldn’t figure you for a connoisseur of fine art, but you did manage to steal the most valuable paintings in the house.”
“I didn’t set that fire and I didn’t steal no fucking paintings. You said it yourself. Grace Adams made the threats. She did it.”
“Given your criminal record, who do you think a jury is going to believe?”
Macy took a look at her notes.
“Grace says you were following her on the night of fire. She’d seen you at the K-Bar and then later when she was a few blocks away from the Granger’s home. We know you were in the area because a patrol officer pulled you over for a busted taillight. He didn’t have time to issue a citation because he was called away on an emergency.”
Jordan sounded smug. “No way you’re going to pin that fire on me. I got Grace on video that night. It will prove I wasn’t anywhere near the house on Madison Road when the fire started.”
“We’ve already checked your phone. What video are you talking about?”
“I have a dashboard camera in my Bronco. The girl was so drunk she didn’t realize I was trailing right behind her. I was doing her a favor keeping an eye on her like that. No one else was looking out for her.”
“Mr. Beech, let’s be very clear. You weren’t looking after Grace Adams, you were stalking her.
”
Macy picked up her phone and called Brad to tell him what she’d just learned.
“I’ll have them go over the Bronco again,” said Brad. “If there’s a dash cam I’ll have them send the footage off it to the station.”
Macy told Brad to keep her posted.
“Must be disappointing,” said Jordan. “A few minutes ago you thought you had two suspects. Once you see that footage you’ll realize you’ve got nothing on me or Grace.”
Macy pulled her hair back so he could see the extent of the bruising around her eye.
“Oh, Mr. Beech, I beg to differ.”
* * *
Brad apologized several times for missing the dashboard camera. Macy had decided it wasn’t worth getting angry, but that didn’t stop her from wondering what else the crime scene techs may have overlooked.
“Don’t worry,” she said. “It happens.”
“That may be so, but I’ve asked them go through everything again just to be sure nothing else was missed.”
A video technician was scrolling through the footage on Jordan’s dash cam. She leaned in close to the screen and squinted through her quarter-inch thick glasses.
“Mr. Beech isn’t very bright,” she said. “He’s got footage on here that puts him at the sight of two of the smaller fires that were set on Monday evening.”
“Anything that puts him at the Granger’s house?” asked Macy.
Brad crossed his arms. “Nope.”
Macy felt a headache coming on. “What about Grace Adams? We know she leaves the bar at 11:52. Is there anything that proves she wasn’t at the Granger’s house?”
“He was following her for nearly twelve minutes,” said Brad. “We really don’t see how she could have managed setting the fire in the little time she had.”
Though the image on the screen was grainy, Macy was able to recognize Grace’s Halloween costume, so she knew it was her. Grace was stumbling down a suburban street with her arms wide. At one point she started running. She had an awkward gait but that may have been because she was wearing heels. A few minutes later the Bronco pulled up to the curb and she vanished from sight.
“This is when the cop pulls him over for the busted taillight,” said the video technician.
“Got called away because of the fires so he didn’t have time to issue a citation.” Brad pointed to the screen. “After Jordan Beech is pulled over, he continues circling the neighborhood but only gets within a block of the Granger’s house. Takes a quick drive to Grace’s apartment building and doubles back. Ten minutes later he pulls up to a stop sign at the intersection of Cedar and Vine and then suddenly reverses.”
“Grace Adams said she was on Cedar.”
Brad nodded. “It looks like that’s where Jordan finally catches up with her again.”
“It fits what they said in their statements. She says she ran when she saw his car. He denies chasing her.”
“Did he say if she was still wearing the prom dress?” asked Brad.
“Same outfit but barefoot.”
“That girl is crazy.”
“Crazy and incredibly drunk, but not guilty. Grace Adams is making no attempt to hide. She’s running through that neighborhood wearing heels and a prom dress. If she was in that state anywhere near the Granger’s home someone would have noticed her.”
“In that case you’re all out of suspects. This video footage proves that Jordan Beech didn’t set that fire either,” said Brad.
“Thankfully, we’ve still got plenty we can charge him with.”
“Amen to that.”
* * *
Alisa was once again perched at the edge of Macy’s desk, pecking on her laptop. Her ponytail was pulled back so tightly she looked as if she was simulating a facelift.
Macy slumped down in her desk chair. “It doesn’t look like Jordan Beech or Grace Adams set that fire. They weren’t anywhere near Madison Road around the time it started.”
“There’s still a chance they could have done it. They could have used a timer to delay the start of the fire.”
“Ryan and his team have found nothing at the scene to indicate that was the case, which gets Hannah Granger off the hook as well. Plus, there’s the issue of the missing artwork. Jordan Beech doesn’t appear to know anything about art and we’ve not found any of the missing paintings in his or Grace’s possession.”
“That house was destroyed. There’s a chance that Ryan’s team missed something.”
“Possibly, but it’s all academic if we don’t have physical evidence to prove timers were used. Do you have anything more on that kid that picked up that job at the printer?” asked Macy.
Alisa held up a finger. “One second,” she said. “I’m just finishing off this last sentence.”
Macy started pulling files out of her bag. She put the photocopies of the Polaroids to one side, hopeful that she would never have to look at them again. Now that the Bolton PD had some detectives freed up from the other investigation, it had been decided that they would look into the Polaroids Lara had found in Peter Granger’s office. There was a possibility that many of the women in the photographs were unaware of what had happened to them. Macy had mixed feelings about telling them. Clare Stokes’s shock at seeing herself naked and masked had been heartbreaking to witness. Brad had insisted on flying out to Wisconsin to inform Pippa Lomax’s family of the latest developments and to conduct interviews.
“It’s not the type of thing I’m willing to tell someone’s parents over the phone,” he’d said.
Macy flipped through some of the papers on her desk. She’d been there less than a week and had already colonized the borrowed office. She repositioned a framed photograph of Luke so that it was facing her, opened a Diet Coke, and wrestled a cookie from a box. Luke had been too excited to get upset when Aiden had dropped her off in front of the police station. Aiden was taking him to the dinosaur museum and afterward they were going for haircuts, an event that Aiden was building up to epic proportions. At this point anything short of a rocket firing out of the hairdresser’s ass would be seen as a disappointment. She was hopeful Aiden would survive the experience. They’d agreed to meet for an early dinner, which gave Macy a full three hours to fret over the possible outcomes.
Alisa closed her laptop. “Feel like taking a ride? I’ve got a possible address on Chad.”
“I left my car at the hotel. I’m all yours,” said Macy.
Winter in southern Montana was proving elusive. The heavy snowfall from earlier in the week had given way to rain. They took Alisa’s patrol car. She sat behind the wheel rummaging through her backpack, eventually raising her hands in frustration.
“I left my phone charger at home. Do you mind if we swing by my place on the way?”
Alisa ended up inviting Macy in for a quick coffee. While the kettle came to a boil Alisa went into her bedroom to find her charger. Alisa’s apartment was small but nice. There was so much that reminded Macy of when she was younger. She hadn’t asked, but she could tell Alisa lived alone. There was a singular type of order that was immediately recognizable.
Macy found a wadded-up tissue in her pocket and blew her nose. There were photos of what she assumed to be family and friends on a shelf and a few artsy prints hanging on the walls. Not surprisingly, the bookshelves were full. Macy pulled out a copy of one of Peter Granger’s novels and flipped through it. He’d written a generic note to Alisa.
Very pleased that you came along this evening. With warmest wishes …
Macy went into the kitchen. The box of chocolates sat out on the counter in plain sight. It was the same box that Brad had been carrying when she had run into him the night before. Macy nudged open the lid. About half had been eaten.
“Is coffee okay with you?” asked Alisa.
“Coffee would be great,” said Macy. She held up a tissue. “Just need to throw this away.”
“Trash is under the sink.”
Macy opened the cabinet door. There was an empty bottle of w
ine standing next to the trash can under the sink. Macy turned it so she could see the label. Brad Hastings had lied. He hadn’t been on his way home with peace offerings for his wife. He’d been on his way to see Alisa. Macy shut the cabinet door and walked into the living room.
“Do you live alone?” asked Macy.
“Always. I find it easier.”
“It does have its advantages.”
Alisa went about making coffee—two heaping scoops in a French press followed by boiling water.
“Very low-tech around here,” she said.
They sat in the living room. The windows looked out onto a rain-swept parking lot. The sign for the Co-op was just visible in the distance.
“You said you were from around here. Do you still have family in Bolton?” asked Macy.
“Not as such. I have a sister who lives nearby in Lawrence, but we don’t get along. Last I heard, my parents were somewhere in Idaho.”
“Sounds like you’re very much on your own then.”
Alisa touched the scars on her throat. “I have my parents to thank for this. Running a meth lab out of a family home is never a good idea.”
“How old were you?”
“Fourteen. Went straight from the hospital into foster care.”
“That’s terrible,” said Macy. “No one gets over something like that.”
Alisa closed her eyes for a few seconds. “Makes me want to be better than them. I guess that’s something.”
“All that against you? I’d say you’re doing really well.”
Macy stared at her cup of coffee but she couldn’t bring herself to drink it. She was on the edge of saying something she knew she would regret, so she swallowed back her words. Alisa’s personal life was none of her business. None. If she were having an affair with Brad Hastings, nothing Macy could say or do would make any difference. Macy suddenly knew why the apartment had seemed so familiar to her. A great deal of sadness lived here. She could see that Alisa was the type of woman who’d go out of her way to do the right thing, the moral thing. An affair with a married man would slowly take its toll. Alisa was probably beating herself up on a daily basis.
Silent Rain Page 23
