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Terminal 9

Page 8

by Patricia H. Rushford


  “Three? I knew he was running homicide and sex abuse . . .”

  “Yeah, well, now the powers that be have forced Frank into supervising a three-person arson investigative section in addition to a half-dozen narcotics cops that were assigned all over the city to state and federal task forces. The narcs are only temporary while their sergeant is on vacation for a couple of weeks, but c’mon, how much can one guy do?”

  “That’s brutal.” Mac’s chair squeaked as he eased into it. “No wonder he’s been so short-tempered lately.”

  “Tell me about it.” She leaned against his desk and examined a nail. “I understand where he’s coming from, but bottom line is we need to get moving.”

  “Right. First thing I’d like to do is talk to the daughter.”

  “I thought you might.” Dana flashed him a sly grin. “Which is why I called her while you were talking to Kevin.”

  “When did you get so efficient?” He shouldn’t have been annoyed, but he was. “You talked to her?”

  “Yep, Kelly Mullins-Cassidy is at home and has consented to an interview. I told her we’d be right over.” She moved away from his desk. “That’s okay, isn’t it?”

  “It’s fine. More than fine. Thanks.”

  Dana nodded. “Something odd though.”

  “What’s that?”

  “She wanted to know if she should call her lawyer before talking to us.”

  Mac shrugged. “Not so odd when you consider that she’s an attorney.”

  “I suppose, but it almost makes me wonder if she’s hiding something. When I asked if she was Clay Mullins’s daughter, she thought I was a real-estate agent. With her father’s death she stands to inherit his property. I’m thinking we’ll need to take a really close look at her.”

  Mac shrugged. “I think you’re absolutely right. Let’s do it.”

  TEN

  DO YOU KNOW WHERE YOU’ REGOING?” Mac slid into the driver’s side of his Crown Victoria.

  “Of course.” Dana settled into the passenger seat and pulled a folder out of her briefcase. “I looked up the address online and got directions.”

  My, aren’t we efficient. Mac kept the comment to himself. He was being unreasonable, feeling something akin to jealousy and resentment just because she was doing her job. And maybe doing it betterthan you are. “Good, then you won’t mind navigating.” Despite his annoyance, he managed to keep his tone light.

  Kevin had always praised Mac for acting on his own. Dana didn’t need much direction—she seemed to know when something needed doing and did it. And that was a good thing. Mac merged onto southbound I-205 from Foster Road in southeast Portland while Dana studied the printout.

  “Looks like they live in that new Copper Mountain development. We should take I-5 north to Nyberg exit and head up toward Sherwood.”

  “Nice area.”

  “Are we still going to hit Mullins’s house with a warrant today?” Dana asked.

  “Hopefully. We need to make it out to Columbia County by the end of business hours. All we need is a call from Kristen to wrap up our warrant. We need to get out there by six at the latest if we want to catch a judge.” He adjusted the visor and slipped on his sunglasses to minimize the glare. The patches of blue were getting larger as the day went on. “I was just thinking,maybe we should call Mason—see if he’s surfaced yet.” He glanced at his watch. One-thirty. Time was getting away from them.

  Dana nodded and pulled her cell phone out of the pocket of her black wool jacket. A colorful scarf that she’d tied around her neck made the black pantsuit and white blouse less severe. Mac wondered if it had been Jan’s influence. “That scarf looks good on you. Were you wearing it this morning?”

  “Thank you.” She tossed him a smile. “No, I’d brought it with me to work but didn’t put it on. I wasn’t sure if our dress code allowed it. Jan assured me it did, so I decided to wear it this afternoon.”

  Mac nodded.

  Before making the call, Dana pulled out a notepad then closed the briefcase and set it on the floor behind her seat. After flipping back several pages, she paused and punched in Mason’s number. Moments later she glanced at Mac. “Voice mail.” After the beep, she said, “Mr. Mason, this is Detective Bennett with the Oregon State Police. Just wanted to remind you of our appointment this afternoon at three.”

  She sighed and dropped her cell back into her pocket. “Think he’ll be there?”

  “I wouldn’t hold my breath.” Mac rubbed the back of his neck, trying to ease an especially tense and painful muscle.

  Fifteen minutes later, they pulled up in front of a three-story home that was built into a treed hillside in an upscale neighborhood. Mac recognized it as one of the homes that had been in the Street of Elegant Homes a few years before. The first and only time he’d gone. The homes had been elegant all right, but extravagant and way over his budget. This and other homes like it went for around three-quarters of a million or more. “If you don’t mind, I’ll take the lead on the interview,” Mac said.

  “Sure.”

  Kelly Cassidy greeted them at the door wearing a fashionable version of pale pink sweats. Mac couldn’t identify the material, but it looked like she’d paid a chunk of change for it. “Mrs. Cassidy?”

  “Kelly.” Her gaze drifted from Mac to Dana. “You must be Detective Bennett.”

  “Right.” Dana extended her hand. “This is my partner, Detective McAllister.”

  She stepped back allowing them access to the spacious entry. To their right was a large waterfall area. Mac remembered the feature from his tour. Water rushed over the rocks inside, forming a pool, then escaped through a short pipe in the wall and continued its journey outside. “This is amazing.” Dana’s eyes sparkled as her gaze followed the course of the water.

  Kelly smiled like a parent indulging a wonder-filled child. “Thank you. We enjoy it. The house was built over a waterfall. The water actually runs from a cascade behind the house and . . . well, let me show you.”

  She led them on a short tour through the entry and into an open kitchen and great room. “The stream runs along here under this acrylic flooring.” She pointed to a strip of clear floor that connected seamlessly to the natural-looking tile.

  “I’ve never seen anything like it.” Dana seemed to have forgotten their mission. “You even have fish swimming in there.”

  “The architect created some artistic curves, but otherwise it’s a natural spring.” She spoke in a dull tone—as if she’d repeated it numerous times, which she probably had.

  “Wow. It’s beautiful.”

  Mac cleared his throat. “Um—we should probably get on with our interview, Dana. No sense in taking up too much of Kelly’s time.”

  “Oh, right. I’m sorry. It’s just that you have so many beautiful things.” Dana’s gaze flitted to a bronze statue of a mermaid and a porpoise swimming, spiraling down. “That’s a Jerry Joslin bronze, isn’t it?” Dana sighed. “I would love to have one of his pieces. Someday, maybe.” Her smile faded. “I’m sorry, Kelly. Mac is right. We shouldn’t be gouging into your time with my curiosity.”

  “I’m used to it.” In a graceful motion she waved her hand toward the sofa, loveseat, and chair to the left away from the kitchen. “Have a seat. Can I get you anything? Tea, coffee, water, a soda?”

  “Water would be great,” Dana said as she made her way to the sofa.

  “Coffee for me.” Mac’s stomach was growling. He realized he’d had nothing substantial to eat since lunch.

  When she’d served them and they were all seated, Mac began. “First of all, Kelly, we’d like to express our sorrow at the loss of your father.”

  She pinched her lips together. “Thank you. I’m still in shock, really. I can’t imagine him not being in that old house of his, tooling around in his scooter. It was top of the line. We bought it for him a couple of years ago when his legs got so bad.” She clenched her hands on her lap and closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them there were tears. “
They told me he was hit by a train. I can’t imagine how that could have happened. And being out in the evening? He just didn’t do that. He had a routine and never wavered from it. He’d have dinner at six, eating it on a tray in front of the television set watching the news. Then he’d do the dishes and settle in to watch the evening shows. At nine sharp, he’d get ready for bed . . .” Her words drifted off.

  “Do you have any idea why he might have gone out?” Mac asked.

  “No. The police officer said he might have been sick and trying to go for help, but that doesn’t make sense. He had a phone. I guess it was an accident, but . . .” Her gaze met Mac’s. “If it was an accident, why are you here? You people don’t come in unless there are questions. Do you think someone killed him? I wondered why the medical examiner is withholding the release of the death certificate. It’s starting to make a little more sense with your visit.”

  “The delay in the release of the death certificate is routine,” Mac said. “I can assure you of that. Without extensive testing, the medical examiner won’t be able to certify the cause of death.”

  Kelly arched her eyebrows. “Plus, you want to hold off for a while and see who makes requests on the certificate so you can determine who might benefit from his death?”

  Mac gave no reply.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.”

  Unfazed, Mac continued. “Do you know of anyone who might benefit from your father’s death?”

  She sighed. “Unfortunately, yes. My father was worth a lot of money—probably in the millions. As his daughter, I would inherit something, I suppose. Though we really don’t need the money. Dad probably left something to my brother, but he’s been estranged from the family for years.”

  “Do you have any idea where we might find your brother?”

  She wrapped her hands around one knee and looked at a spot on the rug. “Jacob isn’t good about keeping in touch. Unfortunately, he’s been in and out of trouble since he was a teenager. Not serious stuff. I think the worst was a drunk driving charge a few years ago.”

  Mac jotted the information down. “If he’s in the system, we may be able to track him.”

  “He and Dad had their differences, but Jacob isn’t a killer. I can’t imagine him ever hurting Dad.”

  “Can you think of anyone who might?”

  Kelly paused for a moment. “Well, there’s a real-estate developer who’s been trying to buy the land. Dad refused to sell, and the developer actually came here and tried to talk me into having Dad declared incompetent so we could sell the land to her. She offered to pay us a premium.”

  Dana raised her eyebrows but didn’t comment.

  “And what was your reaction?” Mac asked.

  “We were appalled. Ray and I threatened to file a complaint against her, and we basically kicked her out. I couldn’t believe it. Makes me wonder how far people will go to get what they want.”

  “Can you give me her name?”

  “Gladly.” She went into the kitchen and pulled open a drawer.

  After rummaging around, she produced a card. “Here you go.

  Reagan McCloud.”

  “You kept her card? I’m surprised you didn’t toss it.” Mac slipped it into his jacket pocket.

  Kelly looked at Mac a moment before finally saying, “I don’t know—maybe I was thinking I’d better hang on to it in case there was a problem.”

  He nodded and glanced at Dana, who seemed a world away.

  “Not everyone liked my father, Detective. He was always good to me, but he and my brother were like two pit bulls, always fighting. Of course, Jacob could be a handful. He was born rebellious. Not that he’d do anything to hurt Dad. Like I said before, Jacob would never hurt anyone. You’ve probably already heard about the guys down at the terminal. Dad was always going on about how the new guys weren’t doing the job right—especially Dan Mason. I’m surprised the guy is still working there.”

  “We’re planning to talk with Mr. Mason later today.”

  “Good.” She rubbed her hands together as if they were cold. “You should talk to Rita too. She is—she was Dad’s housekeeper. I wonder if anyone has told her about Dad.”

  “Housekeeper? Does she work every day?” Mac hoped the police were still maintaining the integrity of the house.

  “Um—twice a week, I think.”

  “Do you have Rita’s last name?”

  She rubbed her forehead. “It was Hispanic, um—Gonzales, I think. Rita is a very nice lady. She’s been working for Dad for ten years now.”

  “All right. Thanks. Shouldn’t be too hard to locate her.”

  Kelly glanced at her watch. “I really should be getting back to work.”

  “Before you go, we’d like to get your consent to search your father’s house. We’re hoping that will help shed some light on what happened to him.”

  “Of course.” She hesitated. “Well, on second thought, I think I’ll hold up on that.”

  “We can get a warrant,” Mac told her.

  “I know. It’s just that . . . I don’t want to be too hasty. I need a chance to think.”

  “I understand.”

  “Was there anything else?” she asked.

  “Not really,” Mac said. “At this point we’re just doing a preliminary investigation and waiting on the autopsy report.”

  “Oh, right.” Kelly frowned. “I should call and make arrangements with the funeral home. I’m not thinking clearly.”

  “Have you been in touch with your father’s lawyer?”

  “You mean Addison Shaw?” She sneered. “Humph. That guy is a joke. A few years ago, I offered to take care of Dad’s legal affairs, but Dad wasn’t comfortable with that. He felt his legal affairs should be separate from family. He’s right, I suppose, but the guy he hired is a shyster if I’ve ever seen one.”

  “In what way?” Mac asked.

  “Oh, nothing specific. He just reminds me of a snake.” She bit her lip. “I shouldn’t be saying that. The poor man is probably just trying to make a living. I’m most likely being paranoid. But you know how it is—some people you trust, and some you just don’t. I only met him once, so it’s not really fair of me to be so negative.”

  “We’ll talk with him as well.” He turned to Dana. “Can you think of anything else?”

  “Not right now. We may be calling you later though.” Dana stood when Mac did.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” Kelly assured the detectives. “If you’ll hold on a minute, I’ll give you my card. It has my office and cell phone, as well as my home number.”

  Kelly went into another room and came out with a card for each of them. “Let me know if there is anything I can do. I’m glad you’re looking into Dad’s death. He was an old man and it could have been an accident, but . . .”

  “There are enough circumstances to make us take a closer look,”

  Mac finished.

  “Exactly.”

  Dana paused on the way out. “There is one thing, Kelly. We may want to interview your husband as well.”

  “Ray?” She seemed genuinely surprised. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind. Though he’s extremely busy.” She frowned. “If you’re thinking Ray had anything to do with my father’s death, you can forget it. For one thing, he has back-to-back medical conferences out of town. He’s been in Philadelphia this past week and just got home last night.”

  “When is the best time to call him?”

  “There really isn’t a good time. I’d suggest you call his cell and leave a message.” She slipped back inside and came out with a number written on the back of his professional card. RaymondCassidy, M.D. Internal Medicine, Oregon Health Sciences University. “I’ll let him know you want to talk to him.”

  “Thanks.” Mac slipped the card in his pocket. “Appreciate your cooperation.”

  “ WHAT’S YOUR TAKE ON HER?” Dana asked Mac as they headed back to the office.

  Mac shrugged. “She seemed down to earth, n
ice for a lawyer.”

  “A little too nice, if you ask me.” Dana chewed on the inside of her cheek. “She’s hiding something, Mac.”

  “And you know this because . . .”

  “Intuition.” Dana tossed him a knowing grin. “Plain old intuition. That and the fact that she didn’t want to okay us searching her father’s house.”

  “I’m sure Sergeant Evans will be thrilled to hear about your feelings on the matter.”

  “Well, I just hope that if this is more than an accident, we come up with something soon.”

  Mac agreed. He hoped the hard, fast evidence would show up before they were forced to drop the case.

  ELEVEN

  WE NEED TO GET HOLD OF JACOB MLLLINS and see what he’s been up to the past few days.” Mac’s pager vibrated and he pulled it off his belt. Checking the digital readout, he said, “It’s the medical examiner’s office. Would you mind calling so I don’t run us off the road?”

  “Sure.” Dana pulled her phone from her purse and punched in the number to Kristen’s office. While Mac mumbled about the potholes in the road, Dana pulled a notepad and pen from her briefcase. He could drive and talk just fine, regardless of the road conditions. He just didn’t want to talk to Kristen.

  “This is Detective Bennett with OSP. May I speak with Dr. Thorpe? I’m calling about the Mullins case.”

  “Hey, Dana,” Kristen answered moments later. “Thanks for getting back to me so soon.”

  “Just call us rough and ready.” Dana glanced at Mac, who seemed a little too intent on maneuvering the car. “What’s up?”

  “Nothing much, just some preliminary lab results on Mr. Mullins’s toxicology screen. No unlawful drugs on board, just some prescription meds. We expected those from his doctor’s fax.”

  “So you’re ruling his death accidental?” Dana chewed her lower lip, disappointed that her intuition might not be correct.

  “Not yet. The initial blood work indicates some liver damage. I won’t know the extent of that without more tests. There’s something else bothering me too.”

 

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