Secrets, Lies & Alibis

by Patricia H. Rushford

  “I take it you know what he looks like.” Kevin leaned against a pillar.

  “Yes. He’s about six foot and maybe 180 pounds. He’s got a nice build and blondish hair. Looks like he spends a lot of time in the sun. He’s got a tan to die for.”

  Passengers spilled out of the tunnel and headed toward the baggage claim area. Before the tightened security, family members and friends could come right up to the gate to wait. Now the greeters had to stay outside of the security gates. About two dozen people had come out when Cindy touched Mac’s arm and pointed. “That’s him.” She waved at a bronze-skinned man wearing a tropical print shirt and khaki pants and moved forward to meet him.

  Cindy was right. The guy had a perfect tan and the kind of hair women spent big bucks on. Even dressed as casually as he was, the man exuded wealth.

  Kevin leaned toward Mac and said softly, “Family money.”

  “You think?”

  “I’d bet on it.”

  Tim set his briefcase on a chair and released the handle of his carry-on. When he saw Cindy, he stretched out his arms in welcome and she went into them. “Hey, kid. I won’t ask how you are, ’cause I don’t imagine you’re doing any better than I am.”

  “That’s the truth.” Cindy stepped away from him. “Thanks for coming.”

  He nodded. His gaze shifted from Cindy to Kevin and Mac. “You must be the detectives Cindy told me about.”

  “Tim.” Cindy looped her arm through his in an almost protective manner as she drew him forward. “Um . . . Detectives McAllister and Bledsoe with the Oregon State Police. They’re working on Megan’s case.”

  “I’m pleased to meet you.” He extended his hand, displaying an expensive-looking watch.

  “Welcome to Oregon, Mr. Morris.” Kevin shook his hand. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “Thank you.” Tim’s response was a hoarse whisper. Tears shone in his eyes.

  “You can call me Kevin. And this is my partner, Mac.”

  Mac shook the man’s hand as well. Tim seemed sincere in his grief and Mac revised his earlier thoughts about him. “How was your flight?”

  “Okay.” He picked up his briefcase and settled it on the top of his wheeled carry-on. The four of them headed for the main entrance. “Can you tell me how the investigation is going?”

  Not certain as to how to answer, Mac left the question to the senior detective.

  “We’ve identified some strong leads but haven’t made an arrest yet.”

  Tim shook his head. “I just don’t understand how someone could murder Megan. She was one of the most likable people I’ve ever met. She liked and trusted everyone. Maybe that was the problem. She trusted the wrong person.”

  “I can’t say a great deal at this stage. I hope you understand.”

  “I do. It’s just that I really want answers. You know how it is.”

  Kevin nodded.

  “Cindy said you wanted to talk to me.” He looked up at the signs indicating the direction of the baggage claim and rental cars.

  “Yes,” Kevin answered. “We’re interviewing everyone who might have known Megan.”

  “That’s fine. I’d have been surprised if you hadn’t wanted to talk to me. Do you want to talk here?” He glanced at the restaurant area as they passed.

  “We were hoping you would come back to the police department with us so we could talk in private.”

  Tim nodded. “Is that all right with you, Cindy? Do you need my help with the funeral arrangements or anything?”

  “Yes, but it can wait.”

  “If you guys don’t mind, I’ll pick up my rental car and meet you. I’ll need directions.”

  “That’s fine.” Kevin ripped a page out of his notepad and wrote out the directions for the Troutdale P.D. “We’ll drop off Cindy and see you in an hour or so.”

  “Um . . . if you don’t mind, I’d like to go with Tim,” Cindy said, tipping her head toward Tim. “Is that okay with you?”

  “Of course,” Tim replied.

  “We can meet you at the police department,” Cindy said to the detectives. “I know the way.”

  Kevin frowned. “Are you sure?”

  “Positive. I’d like to talk to Tim about some things.”

  “Seems like a nice enough guy,” Mac commented as they stepped onto the escalator that would take them down to the baggage claim area. “You worried about him being with Cindy?”

  “Not especially. Mr. Morris seems stable and down to earth. Let’s get his story before we write him off, though. Ted Bundy was a nice guy too—at least he seemed that way to the people who worked with him. I want Tim to take a polygraph.” Kevin looked at his watch. “If you don’t have any other bright ideas, we should head over to the Troutdale P.D. and see what the rest of the gang is up to.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  When Mac and Kevin entered the briefing room at the Troutdale Police Department, they found Eric with his back to the door, reading a stack of computer printouts. “Wake up, Eric,” Kevin teased. “The hard workers have arrived.”

  “Hardly working is more like it.” Eric replied without turning around.

  Mac took off his sports jacket and hung it on the back of an empty chair.

  “We’ve got the fiancé coming in for an interview in about an hour.” Kevin removed his jacket as well. Loosening his tie, he hitched his hip onto the front table where Eric had been working.

  “Good.” Eric stood up and put his hands on his almost nonexistent hips. “I’ve been looking over these tip sheets all day long. People are still reporting eyewitness accounts all over the state, some as recent as last night. Don’t they understand she’s not missing, she’s dead?”

  “Easy, Big Red, maybe you ought to take a time-out from those for a while.”

  “You may be right.” Eric turned around and smiled at Mac. “You know, I think that’s the first time I’ve ever said that.”

  “Yeah, I know you have a problem, Eric, but admitting you have a problem is the first step toward recovery.”

  Mac shook his head. Didn’t those two ever quit?

  “I hope you haven’t corrupted Mac too much.” Eric thumped Mac on the shoulder.

  “Naw, my new partner is quite a bit smarter than my old one,” came Kevin’s quick response to the dig. “He can read and write— the whole nine yards.”

  “You are such a pleasure to be around, you know that, Kevin?”

  Mac stood back as he watched the two ex-partners interact. Eric seemed less a threat than he had at first. Not once had he made a remark about Mac’s family history and the fact that Mac’s grandfather had been a gangster or that his father had been a dirty cop. In fact, he acted like they weren’t even related—like Mac was just another detective. Which was fine with him.

  “You guys might want to take a look at these updated faxes from Megan’s bank relating to the temporary debit card they issued after she reported her purse stolen.” Eric handed both detectives a copy of the list. “As you can see, we’ve got seven transactions on her card on the fourteenth and fifteenth of August. The fourteenth was the day her sister reported her missing. Her account was exhausted after that.”

  Kevin glanced over the list. “Is there a pattern?”

  “I haven’t drawn it out. The first three were at a Plaid Pantry on Halsey. They were all on the fourteenth during the early morning hours. The first for fifty dollars at 2:11 A.M. There was a second attempt for two hundred dollars at 2:12 A.M., but it was unsuccessful because the card only allows an ATM withdrawal of two hundred dollars a day. The third attempt at 2:14 A.M. worked and the bad guy received one hundred dollars. The guy actually returned to the same machine inside the Plaid Pantry at exactly 10:00 A.M. for another try at two hundred dollars without success, again because he was already over the daily limit.”

  “Any more that day?” Kevin scanned the printout again.

  “Nope, doesn’t appear to be. The next day, the fifteenth, there was a transaction at the Gresham Fred
Meyer store at 11:37 A.M., a debit for fifty dollars. It looks like it was used at the store itself, not an ATM machine. The perp then used an ATM machine inside the Clackamas Mall at 3:41 P.M., attempting to withdraw two hundred dollars. There weren’t enough funds in the account at that time, so he tried again at 3:44 P.M. for an even hundred and received the money.”

  “Couldn’t he read the transaction slip to see the balance?” Mac asked.

  “Yeah, we thought that was odd, too, until I talked to a bank rep. She said this particular account didn’t show a balance with the receipt because the primary account was attached to the stolen card. She said it’s for security on the account to discourage thieves, like the two-hundred-a-day maximum.”

  “Who do we have on this?” Kevin asked.

  “I pulled Philly and Russ off the neighborhood canvass and her place of employment to track these down. If we get lucky, these ATMs or maybe the stores will have video cameras. Keep your fingers crossed and say a prayer.”

  “Good.” Kevin cracked his knuckles. “Are we still on for the polygraphs tomorrow?”

  Eric nodded. “I’ve got Detective Thomas coming up from Salem. She’ll bring her gear with her and perform the examinations here.”

  “Sounds good. We’ve got three or four folks to put on the box tomorrow.”

  “Oh yeah, Kev, I almost forgot.” Eric grabbed a second stack of paper. “I ran up some criminal histories on the folks you have been talking to. The sister, Cindy, is as clean as they come. Not even a parking ticket. Same goes for the fiancé. He had one ticket for speeding from the Florida Highway Patrol in 1997.”

  “Did you check them in the law enforcement data system and the national crime index computer?”

  “Yep, according to state and federal records, they’re both clean. Now, the other guy—Gordon Reed—is another story. He’s been arrested twice for driving under the influence, both in the last three years. His license is currently suspended.”

  “Humph. He said his car wasn’t working.” Mac gave Kevin a sidelong look. “We’ll remind him of that tomorrow when he drives in.”

  Eric laughed. “Once a trooper, always a trooper. We have a search warrant in process for his residence and car; as soon as that clears I’ll get someone over there. He had a concealed weapon permit revoked three years ago, after a noncriminal arrest for possession of a controlled substance.”

  “What about our favorite teenager, Brandon King?” Mac asked.

  Eric shuffled the papers in his hand. “Ah yes, the purse thief. His juvenile criminal history is sealed, of course, so I had to access his contacts through the data system in Multnomah County, where he lives. Looks as though he’s had several contacts for truancy and mischief, nothing major. Another contact on this guy too, for less than an ounce of marijuana. I don’t see anything big on him. What’s your read so far, Kevin?”

  Mac leaned against the wall, trying to take in all the information. So Gordon had a record. That didn’t surprise him. He’d be interested to see what a search of the guy’s residence turned up.

  “Hard to say,” Kevin answered. “We have a number of possibilities. We’ll keep plugging along.”

  “When’s the fiancé coming in?”

  “Anytime now.”

  “I’m going to get a bite to eat then,” Eric said, turning around to grab his jacket. “Don’t leave until you talk with me. Hopefully we’ll hear something on the bank records and the video. I’ve got to get someone down to Megan’s workplace for a two-o’clock interview I set up with the girl she shared a shift with. A gal by the name of Meredith Hoyt.”

  “If we get done in time, we’ll take care of that one, too, before we call it a day.” Kevin yawned and leaned back in the chair, settling his legs on the table.

  “Can I bring something back for you guys?”

  “Not me. If it’s okay with Mac, we’ll grab a bite after we interview Tim.”

  “Sure,” Mac agreed, but his stomach didn’t.

  Eric jogged down the stairs and returned seconds later. “Tim is here, Kevin. He’s down in the lobby. I told him you would be right with him. Oh, and you can use the captain’s office for privacy. He won’t be in today, so feel free.”

  “Thanks, pal; we’ll take it from here.” Kevin lowered his legs and let his chair drop back into position. “Hey, Mac, would you mind bringing him up? I’ll get us set up in the captain’s office. We don’t have to advise Tim of his rights because he’s not in custody, but since we’re here at the station, we’ll have to be careful. Give him the seat by the door, and don’t close it. We want to make it clear he’s free to leave and not in our custody.”

  “You got it.” Mac slipped his sports jacket back on and hurried down the stairs to greet Megan’s wealthy former fiancé. “Hello again, Mr. Morris. You’re right on time.” He glanced toward the door. “I thought Cindy was coming with you.”

  “She did.” He offered a wan smile. “I dropped her off at the outlet mall so she could do some shopping while I talked with you.”

  Mac nodded. He had to admit to being disappointed in not seeing her. Cindy had a way of brightening the mood and making things seem normal.

  Tim glanced at the stairs. “Okay, I’m all yours, Detective.”

  “Right this way.” Mac had Tim take the lead up the stairs—a habit he’d gotten from working the streets and knowing you should never turn your back on a possible suspect. When they reached the top of the stairs, Kevin was waiting in the hallway outside the captain’s office.

  “Right in here, guys. Have a seat, Tim.” Kevin pointed to the chair near the door. He and Mac took seats facing Tim’s.

  “Thanks again for coming down,” Kevin said. “Before we get started, I just want to again say how sorry I am that we have to meet under these conditions.”

  Tim nodded and folded his hands in his lap, looking down at the floor. “This has been very difficult for me. I loved Megan. I still can’t believe she’s gone. We were engaged, you know.”

  “Cindy told us.” Kevin leaned back in his chair, a notepad in one hand and a pen in the other.

  Mac took the silent partner role again and began taking notes.

  “Tim,” Kevin said, “we need your help to find out who’s responsible for this tragedy.”

  Tim brushed his manicured hands over his thighs. “I’ll help in any way I can.”

  “Great. Before we start, can I get you something to drink— coffee, tea, or water?”

  “No thanks.”

  “Okay, let’s get on with it then. Mac, why don’t you start the process?”

  Mac’s heart nearly stopped at the request. “Sure,” he said, glancing down at his notes to give himself time to regain his composure. He began by asking Tim background questions about his home in Florida and jotting down biographical information.

  When Mac had sufficiently collected his thoughts, he went on to more pertinent questions. “First, I’d like you to know that you are not a suspect in this investigation, and you don’t have to talk to us if you don’t want to. There’s the door right there and you can go anytime you want.”

  “I’m fine. I want to cooperate in any way I can. Let me tell you something. I know you guys have to take a hard look at me. Believe me, my lawyer wanted to be present and warned me not to talk to you alone, but since I’ve done nothing wrong I don’t see any point spending a fortune to fly him out here. So ask me your questions; I have nothing to hide.” Tim bent his head and covered his face. When he raised his head, tears glistened in his eyes. “I’m sorry. It just hits me sometimes, you know?”

  Kevin grabbed a box of tissues from the table at the front of the room and set the box within Tim’s reach.

  “Thanks.” He pulled out a tissue and dabbed at his eyes.

  “Could you tell us about how you met Megan?”

  “I was looking to sell a new line of treadmills to the chain. The president of Fitness First Health Clubs had asked me to meet him at the Troutdale club.” He closed his eyes for a
moment then went on. “Megan was working the front counter. She was the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen. It was truly love at first sight—at least on my part.” Tim hesitated as his eyes welled up again. “I’m sorry. I thought I was done with this.”

  “That’s fine,” Mac said. “Take your time. We’re in no hurry.”

  Tim took a deep breath and after a moment or two regained his composure. “After that, I made it a point to visit Oregon as often as I could just so I could see her. The phone bill alone was running me around three hundred dollars a month. I finally bought her a calling card so she wouldn’t have to call collect anymore. We would talk for hours. When I came for a visit last month, I told her this longdistance stuff was crazy. I asked her to marry me and move to Florida so we could be together every day.”

  “And she agreed?” Mac asked.

  “Oh, yeah. She threw her arms around me and must have said yes a dozen times. We went shopping for a ring and started making plans.”

  “Did you ever buy a ring?”

  “Sure did. It was a beauty. Bought it at Damon’s Diamond Imports in Portland. Megan designed the setting herself.”

  “Could you describe the ring for us and the value?”

  “Sure. The diamond was a one-and-a-half carat oval cut—a D color with VS-1 clarity. It had an—”

  “I’m sorry,” Kevin tapped his pen on his notepad. “Could you repeat that—a little slower and in English?”

  “Right. Sorry. I’m kind of a jewelry buff. It was basically a nearperfect diamond—virtually clear with only a slight imperfection. I paid sixty-five hundred for the stone alone. The setting was an additional two thousand, which made the total purchase price a little over nine thousand dollars.”

  Mac whistled. “Wow. Must have been some ring.” He and Linda hadn’t gone shopping for a diamond yet. He’d be lucky to afford a quarter carat.

  “Yes. A lovely stone for a lovely lady.”