“Do you think the Brothers have anything to do with this?”
“I can’t say one way or another,” answered Decker.
Jamison pointed in the other direction. “At least that’s a positive.”
Decker looked in that direction where there was an operating oil rig. “What?”
“The pipe over there. No methane gas flare. They must be piping the gas out instead of wasting it, or maybe separating the bad stuff out like Stan was talking about.”
“Will miracles never cease,” replied Decker, smiling.
His phone buzzed the next instant.
Decker said, “Hey, Kelly, what’s up?”
“Decker, we have a situation here,” said Kelly, the strain quite clear in his voice.
“What situation?”
“Stuart McClellan has been found dead.”
“Dead! How? Where?”
“In a car at one of his storage facilities. Looks like he committed suicide.”
“Give me the address and we’ll be there as fast as we can.”
IT WAS THE PERFECT PLACE to off yourself, thought Decker as they drove up to the old wooden building that was about the size of five large barns melded together. In a fenced-in area were remnants of what looked to be broken pieces of drilling equipment. Three police squad cars and Kelly’s SUV were parked by the entrance.
Yellow police tape fluttered and crackled in the stiffening breeze that heralded the storm system marching on them.
Kelly met them outside and led them into the building. In the center of the sprawling space was a late-model black Cadillac sedan with its driver’s-side door open. They eyed the hose running from the tailpipe to the rear passenger window, which was open a crack, allowing the hose to fit through.
Kelly pointed to the driver’s-side door. “We opened the door to check the body.” Decker and Jamison stepped forward.
Stuart McClellan lay across the front seat, his head on the console separating the front seats, with his feet on the floorboard. His eyes were closed, and his face was the trademark cherry red. Inhaling a tank full of exhaust fumes caused carbon monoxide atoms to piggyback on red blood cells, jettisoning oxygen atoms in the process. The cells traveled throughout the body but arrived at their destinations without the oxygen needed to keep the body functioning, resulting in both death and the cherry-red color.
“He suffocated, clearly,” noted Kelly.
Decker said, “Any signs of a struggle, defensive wounds, bruising to the body to show that he was knocked out and then placed here?”
“We haven’t done a full exam of the body, but we’ve found nothing like that,” said Kelly. “No obvious wounds and no blood. We’re going to dust for prints, of course, but we don’t expect that to yield much. The guy obviously killed himself.”
Jamison said, “There was no one else here? No security cameras to show any activity?”
“No and no,” replied Kelly. “McClellan’s had this place forever. But it’s mostly a junkyard now. No one works out here anymore. And there are no security cameras because there’s nothing of value. Hell, he probably wished someone had taken some of this junk.”
“Did he leave a note?” asked Jamison.
“Not that we found, no, but a lot of suicides don’t.”
“Does Shane know?” asked Jamison.
“I’ve left a message. I’m sure I’ll hear back.”
“When’s the last time someone saw McClellan?” asked Decker.
“He and Hugh Dawson were seen last night having dinner together at Maddie’s. Couldn’t believe that when I heard it. I mean, I don’t think those two have even shared a civil word, much less a dinner.”
“Well, McClellan owns the restaurant now. Or did,” replied Jamison.
“Come again?” said a surprised Kelly.
“Might as well tell him,” said Decker.
“Tell me what?” said Kelly.
Jamison said, “Dawson was selling all his businesses to McClellan, including the restaurant.”
“The hell you say.”
“They were probably there celebrating the deal closing,” added Jamison.
Kelly looked stunned. “Why in the world would he do that? And how did you find out?”
“We happened upon them while they were meeting,” said Jamison vaguely. “As to the reason for the sale, Dawson basically just wanted to cash in and get out. At least that’s what he told us.”
“And what about Caroline?”
“Her father said she’d be fine with it.”
Kelly looked angry. “No way in hell she’ll be fine about it. She’s worked her ass off for all this. And Maddie’s was her baby. This is going to kill her.”
This outburst surprised Jamison, and her expression showed it. She said, “Uh, I know you said you were really tight with her growing up.”
Kelly calmed, looking sheepish. “Look, any guy around here that wasn’t in love with Caroline Dawson needed to have his head examined, and I was no exception.”
“But that was high school,” said Jamison.
Kelly glanced at her. “Sometimes time doesn’t make a difference in how you feel about someone.” He suddenly refocused. “But that’s neither here nor there. So we got either a murder or a suicide here, and we need to figure out which it is.”
Decker ran his gaze over the Caddy’s interior. “Any signs that someone else was recently here? Tire marks? Another vehicle seen coming or going during the relevant times?”
“No, nothing like that. But considering everything that’s happened so far, I think we need to go slow on this. Because while it sure looks like a suicide, for the life of me I can’t imagine what his motive would be. The facts are that McClellan is rich as shit, just bought out his rival, and had this entire town in his pocket. Maybe a lifelong dream of his, for all I know. So right after completing that, and maybe, like Alex suggested, celebrating his triumph, he drives out here and sucks on a tailpipe to finish off the best day of his life? Tell me how that makes sense.”
“I agree with you,” said Decker.
“Who’s doing the post?” asked Jamison.
“The guy who came up to do Walt’s isn’t available.”
“Let me call someone in from the Bureau to do it,” said Decker.
“I appreciate that.”
Decker pulled a pair of latex gloves from his jacket pocket, slapped them on, and leaned into the Caddy. He felt one of the dead man’s arms. “He’s clearly in rigor. So roughly twelve hours or more. Ambient temp in here is average. But if he burned through a full tank of gas after he died, it might’ve gotten pretty hot in here.”
“Definitely could have sped up the rigor initiation and body decomp,” pointed out Jamison.
Kelly said, “That’s going to be important because we need to establish alibis.”
“So any idea where Hugh Dawson is?”
“You’re thinking Hugh had something to do with this?”
“If he was the last person to see McClellan before he died, I have some questions to ask the man. And the sooner the better.”
ONE PHONE CALL found Hugh Dawson at his home. Kelly, Decker, and Jamison arranged to meet him out there that night. They didn’t tell him why.
The maid led them to his office, where he rose from behind his desk to greet them.
He looked anxiously at Kelly. “Is it true? Is Stuart really dead?”
“How’d you hear about that?” said Kelly imperturbably.
“Hell, it’s all over. My maid told me. She heard it from her boyfriend who works for McClellan.”
“It is true,” said Decker.
“How’d he die?”
Decker said, “He was found dead in his car. Looks like carbon monoxide poisoning. The same way your wife died,” he added, drawing sharp looks from both Jamison and Kelly.
Dawson plopped back down in his chair. “Holy Lord.”
“We understand you had dinner with McClellan last night,” said Kelly.
“That’
s right, at Maddie’s.”
“Did he pick the place?” asked Jamison.
“Uh . . .” He glanced at Kelly.
“I know about the deal,” Kelly said.
“Okay. To answer your question, it was his idea. Now that he owns it.”
“And have you told Caroline yet?” asked Kelly sternly.
“I’m going to meet with her and tell her.”
“Can I ask why you sold out?” said Kelly. “Jamison said you told her you just wanted to cash out. Last time I was here you were upbeat about things. Buying properties. Caroline opened her restaurant and everything.”
“I also talked about the downsides to fracking. And I’m just tired, Joe. Been doing this for nearly forty years.”
“What are you going to do?” Kelly asked.
“Buying a place in France. Only a lot bigger than the one I had before. Got a guesthouse for Caroline large enough for the kiddies when they come along.”
“I wouldn’t count on that,” said Kelly. “You basically sold out her life from under her.”
“I don’t see it that way,” he said crossly.
“Then you’re choosing not to see.”
“I know you were very close growing up—hell, there was a time there when I thought you two would walk down the aisle. But this is none of your damn business.”
“Okay, then let me get back to what is my business. When was the last time you saw McClellan?”
“When we left the restaurant.”
“Give us the details.”
“It was around eleven. He got in his car and I got in mine. I drove back here.”
“Can anyone corroborate that?” asked Decker.
“No. Everybody here had gone home long before then. It was just me.”
“So nobody can vouch for your whereabouts?” asked Kelly.
“Wait a minute. Are you implying—? Why the hell would I want to kill Stuart McClellan? He just paid me a great deal of money.”
Jamison interjected, “We’re just trying to learn about timelines and alibis, Mr. Dawson. It’s all routine.”
“Well it sure doesn’t come across as routine. Where was Stuart found? At his place?”
“No,” said Kelly.
“And you said it was carbon monoxide poisoning? Could it have been an accident? Like Maddie?”
Decker said, “No, it was clearly deliberate. Can you think of any reason why he would commit suicide?”
Dawson considered this for a few moments. “Not a single one. He stood to make a great deal more money now that he had combined his businesses with mine. He could merge the back-end offices, eliminate redundancies, and increase his cash flow. He was sitting pretty. So why would he kill himself?”
“Then it looks like murder,” said Decker. “Unless we’re missing something. Do you know why anyone would want to kill him?”
Dawson looked warily at him. “I don’t like making accusations against anybody.”
“Let’s call them suggested persons of interest,” said Decker. “It goes no further than this room. But if you have names we can check them out.”
“Stuart was a hard-nosed businessman. He drove tough bargains. Left some with nothing.”
“These people have names?” asked Jamison.
“None of them are still around here. And the one that I might have named has been dead about a year.” He paused and looked uncertain.
“What?” said Decker quickly.
“Look, I like the boy fine. I really do. Fought for his country and all. But Stuart was merciless to him.”
“You mean Shane?” said Kelly.
“I know you are buds.”
“We were friends growing up. And we’re still friends, but not as tight as before. Do you have anything more concrete than his abusing Shane?”
“Not really, no. But you asked and so that’s what my answer is.”
“And Shane would inherit his father’s fortune, of course,” said Jamison.
“As far as I know. You’d have to check with the lawyers on that. Stuart could have made a will leaving it to anybody he wanted.”
“But if he did that and Shane didn’t know, he could still have a motive for murdering his father,” pointed out Decker.
“I don’t think I know anyone less in love with money and business than Shane,” noted Kelly.
“Shane told us you and he weren’t as close as you once were,” noted Jamison. “And you just said the same thing.”
“High school was high school. Then life came along. We went our separate ways. But I knew the guy back then, and that guy hasn’t changed. Hell, he could have stayed here and sat on his ass and let his father pay him. But he joined the Army and risked his life for his country. He came back with medals and he never talks about any of it.”
Dawson smiled. “You two were the best football players this town ever turned out.”
“Decker played for the Cleveland Browns,” said Jamison. “After starting for Ohio State.”
“Wow,” said Kelly. “That is damn impressive.”
“Well, you’re certainly big enough,” said Dawson, eyeing Decker’s huge frame.
“Yeah, if it were only about size I’d be in the hall of fame,” noted Decker wryly. He looked at Kelly. “We still have to check it out.”
“I know we do,” said Kelly brusquely. “And I’ll keep an open mind, but I think that’s the wrong tree to bark up.”
“Well, if Shane has an alibi, then that will settle it,” said Jamison.
Kelly eyed Dawson. “You might want to talk to your daughter sooner rather than later. You don’t want her finding out about the sale from somebody else. That would not be good.”
“You let me worry about that, Joe,” snapped Dawson.
“So you’re going to live in France with Caroline?”
“That’s right.”
Kelly smiled grimly. “And what, maybe she’ll meet some Frenchman, fall in love, and have a bunch of kids?”
“That’s up to her, not me.”
“And if she doesn’t want to go, will you give her a stake to start her own business?”
“I don’t know. I . . . I’m not sure I’m ready to be separated from her. I lost her mother. I don’t want to lose her.”
“Well, be prepared to do just that,” said Kelly.
“She can start another restaurant in France,” said Dawson dismissively. “She was ready to move last time. What’s the difference now?”
“Well, I guess you’ll find out one way or another,” said Kelly.
“What do you care?” demanded Dawson. “Don’t tell me you’re still in love with her?”
“It’s not a crime to care about somebody, Hugh, even if they make decisions you don’t agree with. Especially if they’re family. But maybe you don’t think that way. I mean, look at what happened to your son.”
Dawson’s face grew red. “You can just get the hell out of here.”
“Don’t worry, we were leaving anyway.”
“OF ALL THE DUMB, shortsighted things to do,” groused Kelly as they were driving back to town. “He expects his daughter, who he just sold down the river, to up and move to France with him and leave everything and everybody she’s ever known behind.”
“I agree that it’s both presumptuous and really insensitive,” said Jamison. She looked at Decker. “What do you think?”
“I was wondering whether Hugh Dawson could have been involved in McClellan’s death.”
“That wasn’t what we were talking about,” said Jamison.
“Well, it’s what I want to talk about. But I don’t see a motive.”
Kelly said, “Shane probably has a motive, at least on paper. But he doesn’t care about inheriting a fortune. And if he were going to kill his old man, he’d just shoot him.”
“You’d be surprised how many people start to care when they’re actually close to getting the money,” noted Decker. “But money isn’t the only reason to kill someone. I can imagine Stuart made Shane’s li
fe a hell on earth.”
“But Stuart’s always been like that with Shane. Why all of a sudden would it make him kill the guy?”
“That’s what they pay us to figure out,” retorted Decker. “Did you reach Shane? How’d he take the news?”
“I met with him before we went to see Hugh. Unless he’s a world-class actor, he had nothing to do with it.”
“Did he have any ideas about who might want to kill Stuart?”
“Not that he volunteered.”
“Did he say what he was going to do?” asked Jamison.
“No. He walked out in a daze, really.”
Jamison said, “Dawson got really upset with you at the end, when you mentioned his son, Junior.”
“None of that was right. Junior should still be alive leading a good, full life. Instead he’s six feet under because of that guy.”
“Was it really that bad?” asked Jamison.
“It was worse.”
Decker continued. “What I found curious was McClellan died by carbon monoxide poisoning.”
“You mean like Caroline’s mother,” noted Jamison.
“Exactly. Tell me exactly what you saw at the scene of Maddie’s death,” said Decker, looking at Kelly.
Kelly took a few moments to marshal his thoughts. “The car had slid off the road. There was an embankment there. The snow was about three feet deep at that point. The vehicle was leaning at about a thirty-degree angle. The tailpipe had gotten pushed up against the embankment. It was partially bent, and snow and dirt had gotten lodged in there. Totally clogged.”
“But why wouldn’t she have gotten out of the car and checked?” asked Jamison. “She naturally would have wanted to see how she was stuck, so she could get free somehow.”
“Exactly what I thought. And the answer was when she slid off the road sideways the brute force smashed her up against the window. She hit her head and was unconscious. There was a hematoma on the side of her head and a bit of blood and other trace on the window where she struck it.”
“And the airbags didn’t deploy?” asked Jamison.
“We checked that. Had an expert come in. He said in that situation the airbags probably would not have deployed. And it was an older model Jeep SUV. It didn’t have side airbag curtains anyway. And the seat harness would not have necessarily prevented her from being thrown to the side. There were no other signs of anyone else being there, though the snowfall would have covered any traces. She had cash and credit cards in her purse, and still had her wedding ring and a pair of diamond studs on. So robbery wasn’t a motive. And we could never find any reason for anyone to intentionally kill her. And, besides, how would anyone know she would have been out in the blizzard? She only went out because Alice Pritchard called her when she lost power. The autopsy came back with an accident as the manner of death and carbon monoxide poisoning as the cause.”
Walk the Wire Page 27
