Dead Point (Maggie Blackthorne Book 1)

by LaVonne Griffin-Valade

  “I have to hear from goddamn regional that you were out wandering the hills and stumbled on two dead guys?”

  Stupid of me not to assume he would show up sooner than later. I removed my hat and looked him square in his beady eyes. “It was obvious my first duty was to contact the murder squad, J.T.”

  “Not your call to make, Blackthorne. Not your goddamn call to make. From now on, I want to know your every move, and before you make it.”

  Mostly, J.T. could have given a rat’s ass about police protocol or what I did with my time. His capacity for this kind of periodic bluster was always a wonder to me, since I knew from experience his only real power over anyone was a tendency toward intermittent cruelty.

  “And I’m writing you up.”

  “What’s this about, Lieutenant?” Detective Bach stood in the doorframe in a fresh uniform, lightly starched and pressed into exacting military creases.

  He entered the office, followed by Dr. Gattis, who was dressed in designer jeans and a trendy flannel shirt cut to flatter shapely women. That, and her nicely coiffed golden-brown hair, were an indication she was not from around here.

  Taken aback but nonetheless undaunted, J.T. stated his complaint. “Sergeant Blackthorne did not communicate with me, her supervising officer, regarding events of the last two days, sir.”

  “After finding the bodies last evening, the sergeant contacted regional to report a homicide. That’s per protocol.”

  J.T. deserved to be pulled up short a lot more often in my view. But I knew better than anybody not to give out even the glimmer of a gloat. Also knew I wasn’t exactly off the hook.

  “Detective, Sergeant Blackthorne’s second call should have been to me. That’s also per protocol.” J.T. crossed his muscular arms over his sculpted chest. Younger cock taunting the older rooster.

  I noted he still sported that Rolex we went into hock for.

  “You have a point there, Lieutenant,” the detective conceded. “But I’ve kept her busy since she located the victims. Still, that oversight won’t happen again, will it?”

  “No, sir,” I acknowledged.

  Bach studied J.T. for a moment and then scanned the type of office that passed for rural law enforcement workspace. “I can certainly brief you on what we’ve discovered in addition to the bodies, Lieutenant Lake, which isn’t a lot so far, but I would prefer to wait on that. Dr. Gattis and I arrived around nine thirty last night, and all three of us spent time out in the elements examining the crime scene.”

  “I understand, Detective,” J.T. said.

  But I knew he was seething.

  “I’ve asked Sergeant Blackthorne to write her full report and have it to us first thing tomorrow morning. I’m about to head out to the scene and wrap up my initial investigation before traveling back to Bend. And the ME has to attend to her autopsies.”

  “First we need the keys to the evidence locker, Maggie,” Dr. Gattis said.

  J.T. tipped his big-hatted head toward Ray. “Nice to see you again, ma’am.”

  Apparently he hadn’t heard the news that addressing a woman as ma’am was viewed unfavorably in some circles. Observing her reaction to J.T.’s salutation, I made a mental note to ask the doc for lessons on how to appear simultaneously disinterested in the person speaking and disdainful of what was being said.

  I unlocked the bottom drawer of my desk and retrieved the keys to the locker. The detective and Ray moved past J.T., who stood as stiff as the dead Nodines, fists pressed into his thighs. Through some kind of minor miracle, he had been pulled up short twice in ten minutes. Being present for that was worth any future crap he’d send my way.

  After Bach and Dr. Gattis closed the door to the evidence locker, J.T. turned and faced me. “I see how this all goes down, Maggie. The detective has your back today because he needs your help. But in the end, he’ll go back to Bend, I’ll head back to La Grande, and you’ll still be stuck in this shithole.”

  My former beloved failed to realize the stupidity of that last statement. My shithole town was only marginally worse than his.

  “I asked for this assignment, remember,” I said, although sometimes it escaped me why.

  “So, the names of the victims?” he asked.

  “Daniel and Joseph Nodine.”

  “Brothers?”

  “Twins.”

  “You know them?”

  “Grew up with them.”

  “You ever fucked either of them?”

  “That’s a question you have no right to ask.”

  “You ever fucked either of them while you were married to me?”

  “I only fucked one asshole while I was married to you.”

  J.T. smiled. “You always had a trashy mouth,” he said and moved closer, nudging me backward toward my desk, pressing his groin into my thigh. “Watch yourself, Sergeant. I know your weaknesses.”

  “I know yours, too, dick face.”

  He closed in with a body clench across my chest, shoulders, and upper back. Moved his mouth to my ear and whispered, “How do you think your girlfriend there, that slut doctor, would feel about all them sloppy drunk blackouts back in the day? And the Boy Scout? He might think twice about your morals if he knew how many cowboys had you for a practice saddle.”

  Letting my body fall limp, I turned away from J.T.’s lead-weight hold, a handy tactical defense maneuver I’d learned as a recruit. But when I attempted to shove the palm of my left hand abruptly under his chin, he blocked with his right forearm and locked onto my wrist.

  “I wish I’d pulled that fucking trigger when I had the chance,” I said.

  He released his grip, adjusted his oversized police Stetson. “There’ll be none of that have a report to us by tomorrow morning bullshit—I want it emailed to me by end of day. And let Detective Bach know I appreciate his offer of a briefing, but I need to get on the road.”

  I massaged the exact spot on my right shoulder where I carried an ugly burn scar, a souvenir from our marriage.

  J.T. walked to the door without a look back and left my building. Yet the electricity of our violence lingered, in the way dust motes will.

  “Maggie?” Dr. Gattis stepped back into the frame. “What the hell was that about?”

  A person could reveal every page of their secret history and end up regretting the lack of prudence or guile. I was determined to prevent such a thing from occurring. Besides, how could I have described the black psyche of Jeremy T. Lake? That is, without calling into question my own soundness of mind for having stayed married to the bastard long enough to pick up a pistol and point it straight at his heart? What kind of a woman fell for such a yahoo, especially after it was clear his manly-man pretense was nothing more than a cover for impotence and a mile-wide mean streak? Not a woman like Ray Gattis, that’s for sure.

  “I’m not his favorite subordinate,” I said.

  “A compliment, no doubt,” she countered.

  I couldn’t help myself; I had to laugh at that.

  Bach carried the box of evidence and placed it on my desk. “I see the lieutenant is gone.”

  “He needed to head back to La Grande.”

  The doc slipped on her jacket. “And I need to get moving on those autopsies.”

  “I’d appreciate you giving Ray a ride to the undertaker’s place, Sergeant.”

  “Of course,” I said and relayed the gist of last night’s conversation with Ariel Pritchett.

  “I’m anxious to see your full report,” he said.

  “I’ll have it for you sometime today.”

  “Thanks. I’ll check it over and pass it along to Lieutenant Lake. I’m not sure that’s per protocol, but let’s just say it is.” He peered at me intently, and directly for once. “Maggie. Are you and your staff ready to take on this investigation?”

  Had he just called me Maggie? “I believe we are. I know this part of the state and the way of life out here—the good and the bad. Senior Trooper Jones is smart and a tenacious researcher. Plus our wildlife of
ficer returns from vacation on Monday. He’s the guy who keeps us organized. We’re all good cops, Detective.”

  “I always prefer working with good cops.”

  The man actually tossed in a little smile.

  “This case will test you, Sergeant. But I need your help, especially with all the recent cuts to my unit.”

  Bach paused to gauge my reaction. I nodded, hoping that was a passable signal I understood what would be required of me—of all of us—in hunting down a killer: instincts, enough clues, and some luck.

  “You’ll be officially in charge of the local investigation, at least for now, and working under my command. I want twice-daily updates, and if anything breaks, you’ll call me immediately.”

  “Yes, Detective Bach.” I’d known State Police resources were spread thin, but I was surprised to be given the go-ahead to investigate. It had become my practice to surreptitiously grant myself more authority on occasion, under the guise of pragmatism. But I’d drawn the line at homicide. Until now, that is.

  He adjusted his hat and coat and lifted the box of evidence from my desk. “You do know that in all likelihood, a local citizen is the murderer?”

  “I assumed so, Detective.”

  “I’ll contact you if I find more evidence at the scene. And Maggie, in informal conversations, I’m fine with just Al.” He gave me a short, firm handshake and a short, firm smile.

  5

  Morning, February 22

  I delivered Dr. Gattis to Sam Damon’s fancy funeral home, the Juniper Chapel Mortuary and Crematorium.

  “Thanks for the lift,” she said. “Can we meet for dinner afterward?”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  “I can’t imagine it going later than seven.”

  “Sam closes at six.”

  “Maybe I can charm my way into staying another hour if I need to.”

  “Be careful, Dr. Gattis. Sam’s a shy and tender bachelor. You turn on too much charm and he might think you’re propositioning him and try to take you up on it, morgue full of bodies and all.”

  “I’ll bear that in mind. And for God’s sake, call me Ray.”

  On my way to Kat McKay’s place, I noticed Hollis’s Chevy Tahoe, one identical to mine, parked at our trooper station. I stopped in and found him at his desk in our musty office, thumbing through photos on his phone.

  “Maggie, come see little man Hank.”

  “Look at all that hair,” I said, leaning over Holly’s shoulder.

  “Lil and I want you to be his godmother, whatever that means these days.”

  “It means a lot to me that you would ask. But does it also mean I have to change diapers and shit like that?”

  “Definitely. And that’s just the beginning. So why didn’t you return my call last night? I left you a voicemail, even invited you out for a beer.”

  “I should have, Holly. To congratulate you and Lil. But I wouldn’t have been able to join you for a beer.”

  “Were you on a date?” He was incredulous.

  “God, no. But I found Dan and Joseph Nodine.”

  It struck me how I tended to refer to the Nodines in the same name order. Maybe it was always that way with twins. You said the smartest one’s name first, the nicest one’s second.

  “You found where they lived?”

  “I found where they died.”

  “What the hell?”

  “Right after you phoned and told me Lil was in labor, I had a call from Joseph. He was anxious to set up a meeting. Then I heard…” Recalling discovery of the bodies, I couldn’t go on.

  “Damn, Maggie.” He rose from his chair and held me as I wept.

  Minutes passed in our still and airless office before I could speak.

  “Thanks for being my friend just now.”

  “Always,” he said.

  “They were killed before I could get there.”

  “Get where?”

  I sat at my desk across from his. “That rusted wigwam burner up in Seneca.”

  “Any idea what happened?”

  I shook my head. “Other than they were shot to death. A homicide investigator and the ME met me at the mill. But there’s not much to go on yet. Which means we have to make this case a priority for the foreseeable future.”

  He took his seat. “We?”

  “You and me. And probably Taylor, too. We’re doing the legwork, reporting directly to Detective Alan Bach.”

  He smiled. “J.T. Lake will have a shit fit.”

  I laughed, relieved I was no longer crying. “I know.”

  “I’ve heard Bach is a good man. Strictly by the book, but rock solid.”

  “I don’t even have a report for you to review, but I will by this evening. In the meantime, I’d like you to continue tying up some of those loose ends regarding the Nodines. That’s more important than ever now.”

  “Will do.”

  “Damn, Holly. I almost forgot. You’re officially on family leave now.”

  “Don’t worry, we’ll work it out. Lil and the baby come home from the hospital tomorrow morning. I’ll put in my regular hours today, and if you can be flexible after that, I’ll work whenever Lil doesn’t need me around to help out.”

  “I know that’s not what you want. Taylor’s back from vacation in a few days, so no, take your leave like you planned.”

  “It’s a murder investigation, Sarge. Lil will understand, unless it begins to eat up every hour of every day for months on end. And if that happens, the detective will see we’re in over our heads.”

  “But we’re not going to let that happen, right?”

  “That’s right. Now be quiet and let me get to work.”

  I knew I hadn’t tried very hard to dissuade him. Which was pretty shitty of me.

  As I turned down the street toward Kat McKay’s house, a Land Rover whipped past at full tilt headed the opposite direction. I recognized the driver. Kat’s kid, a boy named Rain who had the visage of one of the blank-eyed walking wounded I’d met volunteering at the Youth Authority’s reform school. A practicum is what they called it at the police academy. Hell was more like it.

  Kat and I were the same age. Like Ariel Pritchett, I’d known her since elementary school. As a girl, I always envied the handmade dresses Mrs. McKay sewed for Kat, stylish frocks out of quality fabric, not the ninety-nine-cent-a-yard gingham froufrou everyone else wore. We had never been close friends, though, and she lit out with Arlan Ferlinghetti after graduation, got married, and Rain was born a few years later. She divorced Arlan not too long after and had been living back in the area for more than a decade. She’d gotten rid of her married name, which stood to reason. But Rain was a McKay-Ferlinghetti.

  Kat’s small bungalow had recently been painted a deep brick color. I liked what she had done to the place, including the forsythia’s gold buds bursting through the veil of frost. A sign spring was on the way.

  The front door opened before I reached the porch. “Maggie. How are you?”

  “Morning, Kat.”

  She had wrapped a pearl-white lambswool shawl tightly around her arms and torso. An elegant woman, but despite her carefully applied makeup I detected the dark circles under her eyes. Which shed light on what it might be like to raise a teenager alone in this two-horse town.

  “Has Rain done something I need to know about?”

  Sussing out Rain’s mischief was not my purpose today; maybe another time, though. “I’m here to ask you about Dan Nodine.”

  Kat opened the door wider and signaled for me to follow her into the frigid foyer. “I guess it doesn’t surprise me that Dan’s in trouble with the law again, but I don’t know anything about it. Also, I ended it with him over a week ago.”

  “It’s something else, I’m afraid. Dan and his brother were murdered last night.” I waited for her to react, but there was nothing. “Would you like to sit down? Should I call someone for you?”

  “No. It’s a shock, of course. But I’m fine.”

  She was either the o
riginal Ice Queen or she must have been looking to dump Dan for a while.

  “I’m hoping to talk to everyone who’s had recent contact with either man,” I said.

  “Like I told you, I called it quits with Dan last Thursday.”

  I tried a different tack. “What was he driving when you last saw him?”

  “He was in that army jeep, what else?”

  “You tell me.”

  “He was driving that old jeep.” She was emphatic. And annoyed. “He couldn’t afford anything else. Didn’t have a job, really. Picked up work whenever something happened along.”

  “Such as?”

  “Odd jobs here and there, I think. All I know is he had money every now and then.”

  “How long had you dated?”

  “Six months or so.”

  “Why’d you break up with him?”

  “That’s personal. And what’s it got to do with anything, anyway?”

  “Damn it, Kat. I’m not here looking for gossip to pass along. Someone just killed Dan and Joseph in cold blood.”

  “All right, all right.” She clasped her long-fingered hands together. “It just wasn’t working out for me. Most of the time I felt like I was dating my cousin or something. Then he stole money out of my purse, tried to say it was Rain. My son wouldn’t steal from anyone. Especially me. We’re really close, him and me.”

  Just the opposite, is what I’d heard. “Do you know where he lived when he wasn’t staying with you?”

  “With Joe somewhere, I guess, but I don’t know where. And just to be clear, he never spent the night. I couldn’t have Rain finding him here in the morning.”

  It was strange Ariel and Kat hadn’t a clue where the Nodines called home. But maybe the brothers had kept certain info, such as their possible whereabouts, from the women on purpose.

  “Most nights, Joseph stayed at Ariel Pritchett’s,” I said.

  That got her attention. “Is that who told you I was dating Dan?”

  Now I remembered why I always found Kat duplicitous. “Was it supposed to be a secret?”

  “I’d prefer people didn’t know. Anyway, Maggie, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get to work.”