Secrets, Lies & Alibis

by Patricia H. Rushford

  “Yeah, not a bad cup of joe.” Kevin cleared his throat. “Mac, I know it’s none of my business, but I’m not hearing the kinds of things I’d expect from a man in love and soon to be married. I’m not saying you should or shouldn’t marry this girl, but I am suggesting you ask God about it. Ask Him to clarify things in your own mind. God will let you know if she’s the right girl for you.”

  Mac frowned. “How can I know what the right answer is? When I’m with her I feel like I’m on the right track, but then I get involved in stuff at work and forget she’s even around.”

  “Only you can answer that, Mac. For starters, I’d suggest you start going to church. You could come with Jean and me out to Good Shepherd Church in east county. We have a couple of great pastors and—”

  Mac held up his hand. “Not a good idea. Linda has been bugging me to go to church with her since we started dating. If I go at all, it would have to be with her.”

  “That’s fine. It really doesn’t matter where you go so long as you go. But even more important than going to church is developing your relationship with God.”

  “I’ll think about it.” Mac wasn’t about to argue with his boss. He’d play his noncommittal role—neither agreeing nor disagreeing.

  “Well, I get the feeling God is chasing your sorry behind. Why He would want you, I have no idea.” Kevin chuckled as he gathered his empty cup and paper plate. “Let’s get back to work, partner. I’m anxious to see how our purse snatcher did on the poly.”

  They arrived at the Troutdale P.D. just after eleven o’clock. Mac pulled into the crowded parking lot.

  “Over there, Mac.” Kevin pointed to a shady spot under a tree.

  “Great, must be my lucky day.” Mac backed into the parking spot. After a short walk across the parking lot, they jogged up the stairs and entered the briefing room, where Eric and Melissa were eating lunch from a nearby takeout.

  “She just got done with Brandon King.” Eric tore open a packet of ranch dressing and drizzled it over his salad.

  “How did Mr. King do?” Kevin slipped into one of the empty chairs.

  “Passed with flying colors.” Melissa set down her sandwich and reached for her drink. “Positive sixes and sevens on all the questions.”

  “Philly and Russ just cleared out about a half-hour ago,” Eric said. “They’re taking him to the campsite on Oxbow Mountain— hopefully the diamonds are still in the ashes somewhere. Our check with the main office turned up nothing, so let’s hope another camper hasn’t pocketed it. After they check out the bonfire site, they’re going to take Brandon back to work and chat with a few more of the kids. Looks like their stories are checking out, though. Brandon used the gas card once after he lifted the purse, then tried to use the original ATM card with no success.”

  “What was your feeling on him, Melissa?” Kevin asked.

  “I got good vibes. I’m going to write this one up as a truthful exam. I don’t think he’s your man.”

  “Well, let’s keep running them through. I’d like to get the other guys we’ve learned about in here too. Not sure that’s going to happen today, though. We have Tim Morris and hopefully Cindy Tyson.”

  Kevin glanced over at Eric. “By the way, did you get hold of her?”

  Eric shook his head. “She has classes all day today.”

  “Okay then. Tim Morris will be here soon. He’s a long shot, but let’s run him through the box and see how he shakes out.”

  “The same base questions?” Melissa stood up and dusted a few crumbs off her lap.

  “Yeah, the same ones. Let’s see if he has any knowledge regarding Megan’s stolen property or her death.”

  “I need a few moments to boot up the laptop. I’ll be ready by the time he gets here.”

  Mac checked his watch. “Hey, Kev, if you don’t mind, I think I’ll run over to the deli and pick up something. That bagel didn’t quite do it for me.”

  “Sure. Bring me a roast beef on rye—everything on it.”

  “Right.” Mac took off and several minutes later, with a bag of sandwiches and some drinks, headed back through the main entrance. Tim held the door open for him.

  “Thanks.”

  “No problem.” Tim was dressed more formally this morning, wearing a dress shirt, open at the neck, and dark suit pants. “I’m a little early.”

  “Glad you could make it. Why don’t you have a seat while I go upstairs and make sure the polygraph examiner is ready for you.”

  “Sure. Are there any new developments?”

  “Just a couple more leads to follow up on. Nothing substantial.”

  “So you still want me to submit to the polygraph?”

  “If you’re still willing.”

  “I spoke with my attorney this morning. He still recommends I refuse to take it. But I told him I had nothing to hide and wanted to get on with the investigation so there was absolutely no doubt.”

  “That’s great, Mr. Morris. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll run upstairs and let the examiner know you’re here.”

  Mac wanted to ask Tim why he had checked out of his hotel but thought it better to wait until Kevin was there. The last thing Mac wanted to do was to bungle things with this guy.

  Mac hurried into the briefing room and deposited the lunches. “Tim is downstairs. I ran into him on my way in. He wanted to impress on me how cooperative he’s being. Brought up the fact that his lawyer didn’t want him to take the test. I thought that was a bit weird.”

  Melissa popped in to say she was ready.

  Kevin went downstairs to usher Tim up to the polygraph exam room. In the hallway, Mac heard Kevin asking Tim if he wanted coffee.

  “Thank you, but no,” Tim replied. “My stomach is a bit upset this morning. I’ve been up most of the night.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Kevin said. “Are you sick?”

  “Just upset, I think. Stressed.”

  “I can certainly understand that.” Kevin showed Tim to the small room and asked him to take a seat, then he introduced Tim to Detective Thomas.

  “Thanks, Kevin, I’ll take it from here.” Melissa began the paperwork while Kevin closed the door and stepped into the hall, nearly bumping into Mac. “Did you want to observe this one?”

  “Um . . . no, that’s okay. I don’t imagine it’ll be much different than the one she did with Gordon. It would be interesting to watch his face during the responses, though.”

  “Melissa is good. She’ll give it to us straight. Besides, we’ve got tons to do before we can call it a day, and we should eat that lunch you just bought.”

  “Oh, yeah.” They returned to the briefing room where Eric was finishing up his lunch. Mac pulled his corned beef sandwich out of the bag. He loved those things—probably because once a month Grandma Kathryn would cook up a brisket of corned beef and make sandwiches piled high with the spicy meat and sauerkraut.

  “How goes the battle, boys?” Eric leaned back and patted his flat stomach. “Are we making any headway on this caper?”

  “Nothing new since we last talked to you.” Kevin removed his suit jacket and unwrapped his sandwich. “So far there’s only one guy who gets my hackles up and that’s our old buddy, Gordon Reed. And he doesn’t really get me too excited.”

  Mac stood back up to take his jacket off as well, checking to make sure his badge wallet was still inside the left pocket before laying it on the table. “Gordon’s on top of my list too, but I really want to get to the other guys.”

  For several minutes, the detectives focused on food. When he’d taken his last bite, Kevin crumpled his napkin.

  “I’ll make some phone calls and see if we can’t set up some interviews,” he offered. “Eric, do we have that subpoena yet?”

  “Yep. It’s all ready for you to pick up.”

  “Good. We’ll try to get to the retirement inn this afternoon.”

  “While you’re doing that, I can plug these names into the computer and see if they have any criminal history,”
Mac said.

  “Good idea.” Kevin opened his briefcase and handed Mac the information they’d gotten from Meredith at the health club.

  Mac sat down to enter the name into the law enforcement data system terminal in the briefing room.

  “Who are you doing first?” Eric asked.

  “Joe Higgins.”

  Kevin picked at his teeth with a toothpick. “Meredith seems to think Megan dated this Higgins guy,” he explained to Eric. “He’s the one who moved out of his apartment about a week ago. The manager said she’d page us when she got a copy of the rental agreement—hopefully there’ll be a forwarding address. I think after Tim is done—”

  “Hey, Kevin, Eric,” Mac interrupted. “Take a look at this guy’s criminal history.”

  Kevin and Eric walked over to the computer terminal’s screen, where Mac was seated. Mac was still typing on the keyboard when they crowded around. “Joe Thomas Higgins was born in Phoenix, Arizona. He’s listed as five feet, eleven inches and one hundred ninety pounds, brown eyes. His DMV printout still has him at the Parkview apartment.”

  “His first name is actually Joe, not Joseph?” Kevin asked.

  “According to this, it’s just Joe.” Mac scrolled back a page. “Here’s the big news. Our Mr. Higgins has done some pretty hard time in the federal lockup for manslaughter.”

  “Really.” Kevin placed a hand on Mac’s shoulder and leaned closer to the screen. “I wonder why he did federal time for manslaughter? That’s usually a state charge. Does it say where the crime was committed?”

  “I can’t tell.” Mac typed additional inquiries. “This thing says ‘DOS—Convicted Felony (Manslaughter).’ FCI Houston is written in the disposition column. I don’t know what all this means.”

  “I’m on the phone right now,” Eric said, reading the 800 number on the face of the computer terminal.

  “Well, isn’t this interesting.” Kevin folded his arms. “FCI means Federal Correctional Institute. There must be one in Houston. This guy must have killed someone during the course of a federal law violation or something.”

  Eric had reached someone at the 800 number and appeared to be having an interesting conversation with the person on the other end.

  “Close, but no cigar,” Eric said as he settled the phone into its cradle. “Military. This guy committed manslaughter while in the active military. ‘DOS’ stands for active duty overseas. That’s why Higgins served time in a federal prison. The manslaughter is probably similar to our state charge, recklessly causing a death through some form of negligence.”

  “If the federal system is anything like ours, then he probably plea-bargained his way down to that charge,” Kevin said. “Who knows what he was charged with initially?”

  “You’re one of those glass-half-empty guys, aren’t you?” Eric slapped Kevin on the back.

  Mac grinned at the clowns he’d inherited with the department.

  Turning back to the computer, he clicked on the “print” button.

  Adrenaline trickled into his bloodstream. Mac wanted to move now. He didn’t want to wait for the managers to call. He didn’t want to wait, period.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Eric rubbed a hand over his carrot-top. “I’ve got a military contact down in Salem who owes me a favor. I’ll see what he can tell me.”

  “You think everyone owes you a favor, ya big goober.” Kevin tossed a crumpled napkin in Eric’s direction.

  “That’s because most everybody does, my old friend, and I stress the word old.” Eric was grinning as he left the room to use the phone.

  “You see what I have to put up with, Mac?” Kevin frowned, but the corners of his mouth had stretched up into a smile.

  “While Eric is checking out Joe Higgins, I’ll see if I can get something on the guy from the retirement inn.” Mac shifted screens and typed in the name Matthew DeLong. It didn’t take long to find a photo match. When DeLong’s rap sheet came up Mac released a long low whistle. “I don’t believe this. Megan sure knew how to pick ’em. Of course, from what I’ve heard, she turned this one down.” He read through the arrests and conviction list: “Ouch. There’s a rape charge in here.” Mac read the record aloud:

  ARREST#1: 1993—RAPE THIRD DEGREE, P.D.—SALEM DISPO—CONVICTED WITH THREE YEARS PROBATION.

  ARREST #2: 1995—CONTRIBUTING TO THE SEXUAL DELINQUENCY OF A MINOR—P.D. SPRINGFIELD—CONVICTED.

  ARREST #3: 1996—PUBLIC INDECENCY—SO. MARION COUNTY—CASE DISMISSED.

  “Whoa.” Kevin shook his head. “What is that retirement inn thinking, hiring a guy like that?”

  “Maybe he lied and they were so hard up for help, they didn’t bother with references.” Mac spoke from experience. He’d seen several questionable employees at Dottie’s place.

  “Maybe. He’s a hot one, for sure.”

  “You were right, old-timer,” Eric said as he returned to the briefing room.

  “Of course. What was I right about?” Kevin asked.

  “I just got off the phone with my source on that Joe Higgins character. The arrest was made while he was serving in the military. He was a marine, assigned to the First Division as a recon grunt. Apparently Mr. Higgins got into a fight with a fellow crewman over a prostitute about eleven years ago, while they were on shore leave in Japan. They’d both been drinking heavily. Joe stabbed the sailor during the fight and then cut the guy’s throat. Higgins was arrested for murder and took a reduced sentence in a plea-bargain that resulted in the nine-year federal prison term in Texas.”

  “Huh.” Kevin rubbed his jaw. “So he was arrested for murder.”

  “That’s the unofficial version. I got a number for the Naval Criminal Investigative Service out of San Diego from my friend. I’ll order a copy of all the reports surrounding the arrest and conviction for the case. Higgins was paroled a little over a year ago and tagged with a dishonorable discharge.”

  “Moved up to the Northwest to start over.” Kevin nodded at Mac. “Did you find any arrests on his recent criminal history?”

  “Nothing, not even a parking ticket.” Mac scanned the pages he’d printed. “Maybe he cleaned up his act.”

  “Maybe he didn’t.” Kevin tapped his pen on the report he was working on. “Eric, could you get his social security number off his rap sheet and see if we can track this guy’s work activity over the last year?” Kevin got to his feet and began pacing. “I also want his past addresses, credit history, and whatever else you can come up with.”

  Eric jotted down some notes to himself. “You got it, pal. I’ll have it by tomorrow morning.”

  “Oh, and, look up the number for those apartments we visited this morning. Tell the manager we need a current address now, not later.”

  Melissa walked into the room. “Do you have a minute? I’d like to go over the results of number three.”

  “Let me guess: He confessed and all you need is a transport to the jail.” Eric looked up from his notepad.

  “Sorry. I’m afraid you guys will have to go back to work. Tim passed with flying colors. He scored in excess of a positive ten on all the relevant questions. I’m confident he was truthful on all his answers.”

  “Is he still in the room?” Mac asked.

  “Yes, I already told him the results. He’s still sitting in there looking like he has nowhere to go. Looks pretty bummed out.”

  “He’s had a rough go of it.” Kevin slipped on his jacket and started for the door. “Let’s go and talk to him, Mac—that is, if Melissa is finished.”

  “He’s all yours. I’ll gather my gear when you’re done with him, unless you have more tests scheduled for today.”

  “We may, but I don’t want to keep you around all day,” Eric said. “Philly and Russ are still rounding up some juveniles, and there’s still the sister, although she’s a low priority and I probably won’t be able to reach her for several hours yet.”

  “I’ll be on pager if you need me. I’m only about forty minutes away at my office in Salem.�
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  Kevin and Mac left Melissa and Eric in the briefing room while they walked in the interview room where Tim was still seated.

  “Well, I guess I’m not a liar.” Tim forced a smile. “But then I knew that all along.” He looked up at Kevin, then Mac. “What now?”

  “I’m curious about something, Tim. I tried to call you earlier and learned you’d checked out of your hotel room. I have to admit you gave us a few tense moments.”

  “Thought I’d left town?” He shook his head. “I wouldn’t do that. There’s no way I’d miss Megan’s funeral. I checked out because an opening came up at the Sheraton—that’s where I usually stay when I’m here. It’s closer to the airport and just all around more convenient. Besides, my other hotel didn’t have a pool or weight room.” He grabbed a pen and notepad from the desk and jotted down a phone number. “Here’s my new hotel number if you need to reach me.”

  Kevin took the slip of paper and nodded. “Well, Tim, unless you have any questions you’re free to go.”

  “I do have one question. I know you guys said Megan was seeing other men. I just want you to know she was a nice girl. I imagine a lot of guys hit on her—she was so attractive. No matter what you learn or hear from these guys, I want you to remember that.” Tears gathered in his eyes and for the first time, Mac saw him as more of a victim than a suspect.

  Kevin placed a hand on Tim’s shoulder. “No one is claiming the contrary, Tim. I want to reassure you that we’re doing everything we can to catch Megan’s killer. We won’t stop until we do—that’s a promise.”

  “I believe you. It’s just that I miss her so much.”

  “Mac and I are making more contacts today. Why don’t you go back to the hotel and get some rest? You look like you could use it.”

  “Thanks. I’d like to, but I need to meet up with Cindy to make the final arrangements for tomorrow’s service.”

  “Is there anything we could do for you, Tim?”

  “No, just remember what I said. Please just remember that.”

  “We will.” Kevin stepped away so Tim could leave. “Just one more thing before you take off. We’ll have some officers at Megan’s funeral tomorrow. They’ll be at a distance with a camera. It’s not uncommon for a killer to attend the victim’s funeral, and if he shows up we’ll have him on film.”