Secrets, Lies & Alibis

by Patricia H. Rushford

  “That hurt.” Mac joked to cover his embarrassment. “It’s not all that far off.”

  “You’re right, Mac. I’m sorry. It’s just that we have way too many scenarios on this one. I wish it were more straightforward.” He sighed. “We definitely need to narrow the playing field.”

  “If Cindy is with Tim, Dana should be able to tell us soon enough.” Eric jotted a few notes on his pad. “And we shouldn’t have too much trouble picking up Matthew. He doesn’t have that much of a head start on us.”

  Mac dialed Matthew’s sister’s phone number. She sounded pretty upset.

  “He was afraid you’d pin that girl’s murder on him because he had her stuff and couldn’t really prove she had given it to him.”

  “Did he tell you where he was heading?” Mac asked.

  “No. He said he was giving everything back to Megan’s sister and heading out. I have a hunch it might be Canada. He has friends up on Vancouver Island.”

  “Thanks for your help, Mrs. Keeley.”

  “If you find him—he didn’t kill that girl. I know it. He’s running scared. I tried to tell him it would be okay and that running would make him more suspect, but . . . Well, Matthew has always been kind of high-strung.”

  After thanking her again, Mac snapped his cell phone shut. “She thinks he might be headed north.”

  “I’m on it,” Eric said. “We’ll get the word out. The guy won’t get far.”

  “Okay,” Kevin said. “The fog is lifting. Two suspects down— three, counting the body. That leaves Joe Higgins—Mr. Nice Guy—and his good buddy, Mitch, who’s cool until we can get to him. Let’s pay another call on Joe and see if he knows anything about these new developments.”

  “I don’t know how he would have found the time to kill Gordon and be involved in Cindy’s disappearance,” Mac said, thinking aloud. “We went to his house, what, an hour after the funeral? We know he was home at four.”

  Kevin nodded. “True, but you’d be surprised at how quickly things can be accomplished when you’re organized.”

  “Okay, I admit Joe is a greaseball, but if he abducted Cindy, wouldn’t he have taken off instead of going home?” Mac stopped short. “He told us he was working on his car when I called. The car must have been in the garage.”

  “I’m thinking the same thing, partner. Maybe he was working on something else.”

  Mac thought he was going to be sick. “You don’t think he had Cindy in his garage when we were there?”

  “I don’t know, Mac. Let’s hope not. I’d hate to think the guy was committing another murder right under our noses.”

  Kevin and Mac knocked on Joe Higgins’s door ten minutes later. Joe didn’t respond to the knock. An older woman, who’d been pulling weeds in the flower garden of the duplex next-door, eyed the detectives. After seeing the men peer into Joe’s windows, she walked across the grass and confronted them. “Can I help you gentlemen?”

  Mac introduced himself and Kevin. “We’re with the Oregon State Police.”

  “My goodness! Has Mr. Higgins done something wrong? He seems like such a nice man.”

  “Not that we know of, ma’am. We just need to ask him some questions regarding a case we’re working on.”

  She glanced at Mac’s car. “You were here earlier, weren’t you?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Well, you won’t find him here. He left a good half-hour ago.”

  “Great.” Mac left the thank-you to Kevin and they headed for the car. “Should we search the house?”

  “We can call in for a warrant—that’ll take about twenty minutes.”

  “That’s a long time.” Mac looked back at the house. “I seem to remember something about entering a residence forcefully if we have probable cause—like if someone’s life was in danger. Cindy could be in there.”

  “I doubt it, but I’d feel better knowing for sure. I’m right behind you.”

  Mac didn’t need any more encouragement. He made for the door and, using a straight kick he’d learned in defensive tactics training, he aligned his foot and kicked the door right next to the knob. The doorframe splintered and gave them access.

  They did a quick run through the duplex. No Cindy and no sign she’d been there. Mac did note that the bedroom had a large cabinet against one wall. There was a big screen TV and video equipment along with several stacks of videos. Kevin picked up a couple and shook his head. “Snuff films.”

  “What?”

  “They’re the lowest of the low, Mac. So-called actors pretend to rape and murder their sexual partners. Looks like Higgins was into it big time.”

  They found stacks of Penthouse and Hustler along with a couple of bondage magazines.

  “Let’s go, Mac. I’ve seen enough.”

  As they were passing through the living room, past the kitchen, Mac spotted a pair of earrings on the counter. “Whoa. Aren’t these the earrings Higgins made for Megan?”

  Kevin looked closely at the diamond earrings. “Looks like it. If Joe gave them to Cindy at the funeral, what are they doing here?”

  “I’m not sure I want to know.”

  “Let’s put these in an evidence bag, Mac. We’ll seize these under the authority the exigent circumstances case law gives us. I think it would be easy to justify the risk. If we leave these puppies behind, they may disappear.”

  Once the earrings were bagged, the detectives headed back to the car.

  Mac buckled himself in and cranked the key. “We should have arrested him when we were here this morning.”

  “The evidence, Mac. We still don’t have any real proof that he killed Megan.”

  “But we know he killed someone. Like Allison said, all that blood . . .”

  “Suggests someone may have been killed. Mitch Wallace had access to the place—so did the manager. And who’s to say the blood wasn’t there when Joe moved in? We don’t want to make an arrest unless we have enough evidence to hold him. This morning we were working on a hunch, and hunches don’t hold up well in court.

  Now we have the earrings, which in themselves don’t necessarily implicate him. We don’t even know for sure that Cindy is in any harm. But my gut tells me she’s in trouble and that Joe is behind it.”

  “Mine too. Any ideas on where we might find this guy?”

  Kevin secured his seat belt and sighed. “A couple. Remember what Joe said he and Mitch did for fun? And where they got stopped by the traffic cop in Clackamas County?”

  “Yeah. Out in Gladstone.”

  “The area where they got pulled over is known for bars and strip joints. I’d say we head over there and see if we can spot his car.” Kevin rubbed his chin and glanced skyward. “Lord, keep Cindy safe and help us find her.”

  Mac made a beeline for Highway 99E.

  They cruised the strip and spotted Joe’s vehicle on the second pass by. Mac parked behind it, blocking its exit. He actually said a silent prayer as he and Kevin entered the dimly lighted bar. Even at this time of the day, colored lights illuminated a scantily clothed woman. Mac liked women as well as the next guy, but this one repelled him. He wondered what had happened in her life that she would take such a degrading job. The place smelled of booze and stale cigarettes and reminded him of his father. Mac shook his head. What had turned his father into a slobbering drunk and a two-bit crook?

  “My sinuses are already beginning to clog.” Kevin stood with his hands on his hips while he scanned the place. Several people glanced in their direction then went back to whatever they were doing.

  “A lot of people here for a weekday afternoon.”

  “After quitting time for some.”

  They approached slowly at first, getting the lay of the land, hoping to spot Joe before he saw them. Kevin elbowed Mac and pointed to a guy at the bar hunched over a drink and watching the stage. Joe saw them coming and turned away, but not soon enough to keep Mac from seeing the surprise and disgust that crossed his features.

  Joe turned toward them again
, this time all smiles. “Hey fellas, if I’d known you were into this kind of thing, I’d have invited you to join me.”

  Mac stiffened. We’re not.

  “Easy, partner,” Kevin murmured as if he’d read Mac’s thoughts. “We’re still in the talking stages here. You take one side; I’ll take the other.”

  Mac forced his personal feelings aside, sauntered up to the bar, and hitched himself up on a stool.

  “Can I get you boys something?” The bartender approached them.

  Kevin flashed his badge. “Some privacy would be nice.”

  The guy shrugged, held up his palms, and backed away. “Take all you need.”

  “So . . .” Joe took a drink of what looked like a second glass of dark beer. “What brings you two to the slums? Must be important for you to track me way out here.”

  “It is, Joe.” Kevin settled an elbow on the bar. “We have another murder. Fellow by the name of Gordon Reed. That sound familiar to you?”

  “Can’t say that it does.” The big Adam’s apple shifted uneasily.

  Kevin took a hanky out of his pocket and blew his nose.

  “Strange that you’d say that, seeing as someone saw you talking to him at the funeral today.”

  He shrugged. “I talked to several people.”

  “Yes, but this one ended up dead. There’s also the matter of Megan’s sister.”

  “Cindy?” He smiled. “She’s one cute broad, isn’t she? You should have seen the sparkle in her eyes when I gave her those earrings.

  You’d have thought I was giving her the moon.” Something between a sneer and a smile curled his lips. “She even hugged me.”

  “What did you do with her?” Kevin leaned forward.

  Joe backed up, connecting with Mac’s sturdy shoulder. “Uh . . .

  I don’t know what you’re talking about. I gave her the earrings and left. She was with Megan’s hotshot boyfriend the last time I saw her.”

  Taking the bagged earrings they had found on the kitchen counter out of his pocket, Kevin placed them on the bar in front of Joe. “These are the earrings you made for Megan.”

  Mac watched Joe’s face turn a pasty shade of gray. Joe pushed himself away from the bar. His Adam’s apple bobbed; his jaw twitched. “What were you doing in my house?”

  “I asked my question first, Joe. Why do you have Megan’s earrings? You just told us you gave them to Cindy.”

  “Those are an extra set.”

  Kevin shook his head. “You expect us to believe that?”

  “It’s true. I liked them and thought they’d sell. They don’t have the real stones like Megan’s did, but they’re still pretty.”

  “Okay, I might be willing to believe you. Now suppose you go outside with us. I’d like to have a look in your car.”

  He frowned. “My car? What for?”

  “We’d like to see what you were working on when we stopped by to see you earlier.”

  “You want to see my fan belt?” He shook his head. “Whatever turns you on.” Joe swung around and slipped off the bar stool then ambled toward the entrance with Kevin on one side and Mac on the other.

  At the door, Joe sprinted ahead, slamming the heavy door in the detectives’ faces.

  Kevin grunted as he took the brunt of the blow on his nose. Mac hesitated for a moment, gripping his wrist where it caught the door. “You okay, Kev?”

  Holding his nose, Kevin managed to wave Mac on. “Go. I’m right behind you.”

  Mac opened the heavy wooden door. “Suspect’s heading north.”

  Kevin lifted his head and felt blood streaming from his left nostril. The bartender handed him a towel. “Put some pressure on it. You should be okay.”

  “Yeah, but will my partner?” Kevin brushed the towel away and barreled out the still-open door—more mad than hurt. Through watery eyes, he called for backup and headed out after Mac, praying his partner would be able to overtake Joe. He had no doubt now that Joe Higgins was their killer. He only hoped Cindy hadn’t been another victim.

  Chapter Forty

  The bright sun blinded Mac momentarily as he stepped outside the strip joint. He headed north in the direction he’d seen Joe take, spotting him just as he disappeared around the back of another building. Mac sprinted after him. His gun drawn, he yelled for Joe to stop. The guy ducked into the back of another bar. Mac easily caught up, but the door was locked. He reholstered his gun and ran around to the front, nearly colliding with Kevin. He tore his gaze from the blood-smeared face and caught a glimpse of Joe going into the front of another bar two doors down.

  “He’s zigzagging,” Mac told his partner. “You take the front, I’ll go around to the back. Maybe we can trap him.” Mac sprinted back to the alley and waited for Joe to show up. As he neared the back entrance to the bar, he drew his Glock again.

  A full minute passed and Mac was beginning to think he’d blown it big time. He was just about to go inside when the door opened. Mac had never moved so fast in his life. The moment Joe stepped outside, Mac was on him. He spun Joe around and shoved him against the side of the brick building. He had Joe handcuffed before his brain synchronized with his actions. “Consider yourself detained for a police investigation.” Mac breathed heavily, winded more from the adrenaline than the run.

  “Take it easy, man.” Joe’s face was still pressed against the wall. Mac released his hold slightly, grabbed for Joe’s arm, and led him to the front of the building where he had left Kevin.

  They headed back to Mac’s car, where two police cars had responded. Philly and Russ pulled in behind them.

  “Having a party without us?” Philly jumped out, his dark eyes taking in the scene.

  Mac gave a quick rundown while Kevin dabbed at his bleeding nose with his sleeve.

  “We’re thinking this dirt bag has Cindy in the trunk.” Mac patted Joe down and retrieved his keys. “I suppose we need a warrant to get into this thing.”

  Philly grabbed the keys. “That may not be necessary. Listen, did you hear that? Sounded like a thump coming from inside the trunk.”

  Mac frowned, “I didn’t . . .”

  “Yeah.” Russ came up behind them. “I heard it, too, partner.”

  “You guys are crazy,” Joe said. “No way did you hear anything.”

  “Get rid of this creep, would you?” Philly addressed one of the uniformed officers, who led Joe to his black-and-white car and settled him into the backseat.

  “I didn’t kill anybody. You got nothing!” Joe yelled back at them.

  Mac held his breath as Philly slipped the key into the trunk. When he first saw the large black garbage bag, his heart bottomed out. If this was Cindy, they were too late.

  When he thought he heard a muffled sound, Mac tore the plastic away. “Oh, God. It’s her.” Mac pulled the duct tape and took the rag from her mouth. “It’s okay, Cindy. You’re safe.”

  Cindy whimpered, tears draining from her eyes. Mac held back his own tears while he and Philly undid the tape that bound her hands and feet.

  Mac lifted the small woman into his arms and carried her to his car. He started to set her in the passenger seat but couldn’t. She had wrapped her arms around his neck and wouldn’t let go, so he sat sideways with her in his lap. Her whimpers had turned to sobs as she tried to tell them about her ordeal.

  “It happened so fast,” Cindy said between sobs. “I was in the cemetery alone . . . everyone had just left . . . he came up behind me . . .”

  “Shh. It’s okay.” He held her close as one might comfort a damaged child. “You don’t need to talk. We’ll get your statement later. We caught him, you know. We caught the guy who did this to you.”

  “He—he killed Megan.” She looked up into Mac’s eyes. “He was going to kill me too.”

  Mac reached into his backseat and grabbed some tissues from the box. “Here.” He handed her the tissues and grabbed one for himself.

  “I’ve called for an ambulance, Mac.” Philly settled a hand on Mac’s shoulder.
“We’ll get her to the hospital.”

  Several long minutes later the ambulance arrived. The paramedics took Cindy out of Mac’s arms and placed her on a stretcher.

  Mac went to stand beside his injured partner. “Looks like you might need a visit to the emergency room too.” Kevin’s already crooked nose looked like it had another break. Bruising had already started to form under his eyes, and blood still drained from his left nostril.

  Philly removed the semiclean rag from his pocket and placed it over Kevin’s swollen nose. “You need to keep pressure on it, you dope.”

  Kevin tilted his head back, finally able to close his eyes and tend to his wound.

  “I’m getting too old for this, Philly,” Kevin mumbled, taking care not to open his mouth too wide so the blood wouldn’t trickle in.

  Philly rubbed Kevin’s neck, a concerned look on his face.

  The guy has a heart after all, Mac thought as he watched the interchange.

  Kevin opened one eye, still holding the bloodied rag to his nose. “You aren’t going to hug me, are you, Philly?”

  Philly didn’t flinch, but a smile grew on his round face. “You’re not going to get to first base with me without buying me a drink first.” The two old friends laughed as the ambulance with Cindy eased out of the parking lot.

  “And how are you, Prince Charming?” Philly asked Mac.

  Mac stared at the departing ambulance, still trying to take it all in. “Huh?” When Philly’s question finally penetrated, he turned around.

  “How come Kevin looks like he went twelve rounds and your hair isn’t even messed up?” Philly went on.

  Mac expected a jab of some kind, but Philly actually looked sincere. About the only response Mac could muster was, “I can’t believe what just happened.”

  “Well, believe it, kid. You just caught a murderer and saved that woman’s life.” Philly took the bloodsoaked cloth from Kevin’s nose. “You saved her life, Mac. Good work.”

  “Thanks.”

  Philly glanced down at his own bloodied hand. “Now, will someone give me an alcohol rinse? Who knows what kind of crud is floating around in Kevin’s blood?”

  Mac was relieved to hear the banter start up again. The joking brought back a sense of normalcy.