Deadfall

by Patricia H. Rushford

  “Is that what the magazine says?”

  “No. I just heard that somewhere and was wondering if it was true,” Mac said with a halfhearted attempt at a grin.

  Dana rolled her eyes.

  “They’re taking it pretty hard,” Mac whispered.

  “Wouldn’t you?” Dana shot him an annoyed look.

  Mac splayed his hands. “What did I do?”

  “I’m going back into the kitchen.” She stood and turned back to him. “You coming?”

  Mac reluctantly stood.

  “On second thought,” Dana said, “you stay here. I’ll let you know when it’s safe.”

  That hurt. He followed Dana as far as the kitchen door, where they found the couple sitting next to one another at the table, touching foreheads and holding hands. Todd was saying something Mac couldn’t hear.

  Vicki looked up and smiled. “I’m so sorry to neglect you two. Please come back in.”

  Mac was taken aback by the smile. He wasn’t expecting that kind of reaction.

  Dana sat down at the table with them. Mac leaned against the doorjamb, watching Dana work her magic. She’d help them through the whole shock, denial, and anger thing loved ones always went through. Mac had gone through the grief counseling training as well, but it had been awhile—and truth be told, he’d always felt that women did a better job. At any rate, it was better this way. He couldn’t be a friend. He had to stay objective; emotions got in the way of analytical thinking. Mac went back into the living room and half-listened to their conversation while he thumbed through an Architectural Digest magazine. He wondered if Vicki Gaynes had decorated her own home. It looked sophisticated yet comfortable.

  He hoped to be able to build or buy a home one day. It wouldn’t be as elegant as this, but it would be homey. He wanted a fireplace and a Jacuzzi, a big kitchen, and a wife who liked to cook. He placed the magazine back on the table. Linda worked a lot of evenings. Well, so did he. Would they eat out most of the time?

  Mac grimaced at the thought. He didn’t want that kind of life.

  He’d never really thought that much about hearth and home, but he knew he wanted the kind of home his grandmother Kathryn had provided for him while he was growing up. A stay-at-home wife and mom. Fat chance of getting a woman like that, Mac thought bitterly. All the women you know are career-driven.

  “Mac can answer those questions better than I.”

  Hearing his name, Mac tuned back into the conversation in the kitchen. He started to go back into the room but stopped when Dana came to him.

  “Todd and Vicki are ready for you.”

  “Ready?” He frowned. “What are they expecting? We weren’t planning to interview them now.”

  “I think it’s the other way around, Mac,” Dana said. “They want to know what happened to their son and what you’re going to do next.”

  “Okay,” Mac said. “That I can handle.”

  Mac started for the kitchen when Dana stopped him. “Hold on; you’re crooked.”

  Mac raised an eyebrow. “What?”

  “Here, let me,” Dana’s dimples went deep as she smiled up at him. She dropped her gaze to his tie, reaching up to adjust it. “There you go.” She straightened his collar.

  “Thanks.” Mac rubbed the back of his head, hoping he didn’t look as red as he felt.

  “You’re welcome.”

  Mac used the walk back to the kitchen to gather his thoughts and focus on the reason for their visit. He sat down at the table again and realized he hadn’t touched the hot chocolate Vicki had made for him.

  Dana walked around the table and slid into the chair next to Vicki.

  “I understand you folks have some questions,” Mac said. “Would you rather have me start from the beginning, or would you rather not hear the details? I know everyone’s different—”

  “I want to know what happened to Brad, Detective,” Vicki interrupted. She clasped Dana’s hand. “Can you tell us that much?”

  16

  MAC GLANCED AT DANA then returned to Vicki’s expectant gaze. “We can’t say for sure right now, Mrs. Gaynes. But I can tell you what we know so far.”

  “Please, call me Vicki.” Her intense features eased to a furrowed brow. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to put you on the spot.”

  Mac nodded and smiled. “My partner, Detective Kevin Bledsoe, and I are playing catch-up at this point. We were involved in the recovery of Brad’s remains today . . .” He paused when Vicki closed her eyes, obviously in grief. “Are you sure you folks are up to hearing about this right now?”

  “Yes. We want to hear everything.” Vicki squeezed Dana’s hand. Todd also nodded, giving him the go-ahead.

  Mac sighed. “About midday today, we received a call from a fisherman who found a man floating in the Columbia River in the Portland area. One of our wildlife troopers recovered the body near the confluence of the Willamette River. The state medical examiner, my partner, and I met the trooper at Kelly Point and examined the body. We found no obvious signs of foul play at the riverbank and thought it might be the body of a deckhand who drowned in a barge accident with a tug.”

  “I think I read about that in the paper.” Todd leaned his arms on the table. “Are you sure it wasn’t him?”

  “We’re sure it’s not him. We transported the body back to the medical examiner’s office for a comprehensive examination. That’s when we learned some disturbing information.” Mac paused again.

  “It was our Brad.” Vicki stared at some unknown spot across the room.

  “Yes, ma’am. We eventually learned it was Brad’s body after taking some fingerprint samples. But there’s more. During the autopsy we discovered Brad had been shot with a large-caliber firearm. We recovered a bullet from his chest. The medical examiner says that the gunshot is likely the cause of his death.”

  “He—he was shot?” Vicki covered her face with her hands, sobbing again.

  Dana rubbed the hand Vicki had been holding.

  “I think maybe we should speak later,”Todd said, choking back his own tears. “Do you have a card or something?” Mac pulled a business card out of his badge wallet and set it on the table. Then he picked up his briefcase.

  “Would you like me to stay with you?” Dana asked.

  Vicki nodded. “Please.”

  Dana walked Mac to the door. “I’ll hang out here for a while.”

  “Do you want me to wait outside?”

  “No. I’ll give you a call later and let you know when they want to talk. I’m sure they’ll have questions for you.”

  Mac nodded.

  “Thank you.” Vicki came into the entry and extended her hand. “Thank you for speaking to us in person. I know it must be difficult to deliver that kind of news.”

  “Yes, but it’s harder to receive it.” Mac left then, eager to get to the confines of his car.

  “Boy, I could have done without that one,” Mac muttered as he walked to his car. Once inside, he adjusted his rearview mirror and pulled into the deserted street. He blew out a long breath and loosened his tie. It was eight o’clock, and he wanted to go straight home. Instead, he picked up his cell phone and dialed Linda’s number, arranging to stop by her apartment. On his way there he had dispatch put him through to Deputy Wyatt of the Hood River County Sheriff ’s Department. He told Wyatt that he’d made the notification. “We’ll need to set up a time to meet. How about I give you a call after I talk to my partner? We’ll need copies of the case jacket.”

  Mac then called Kevin to fill him in on the notification process, partly because he wanted to keep him informed and partly because he was miffed that Kevin hadn’t been there to suffer through the notification with him.

  “Appreciate the call, Mac,” Kevin said, though Mac suspected he was just being polite. “Thanks for handling the notification.

  Why don’t you call the deputy back and have him meet us in the morning, say around nine, at the falls? I’d like to head out to that waterfall area and get a look for myse
lf.”

  “I’ll do that.” Mac entered the 405 Freeway, setting his sights for Vancouver.

  “Maybe we can talk Philly into collecting reports tomorrow while we do a little background work. Let’s start off with a cup of coffee and the trip to the gorge, then we’ll check back with the crime lab and see if they have a match on that bullet for us.”

  “Sounds like a winner.” Mac hung up, feeling a little better about Kevin. His partner had seemed more like himself, eager to move ahead with the investigation. Mac called the deputy and then made a call to Chris Ferroli. He left a message on Chris’s voice mail to meet him and Kevin as well. Wouldn’t hurt to have someone from OSP who knew the area well.

  Linda greeted Mac with a smile, a kiss on the cheek, and a look of censure in her eyes. “You didn’t call me all day.”

  Her tone was light, but Mac was in no mood for criticism. “I didn’t have time.”

  Her lower lip went out in a pout. “But you promised.”

  “Don’t start, Linda,” Mac said gruffly. “I was thinking maybe we could talk, but . . .”

  “We can, honey.” She pulled him in and started to take his coat.

  “No, we can’t. Coming here was a mistake.” Mac pulled his coat back on. “It’s over. There’s no use pretending we can make it work, because we can’t. I can’t.”

  Her mouth formed an O, but no sound came out. Seeming to recover, she said, “Mac, I don’t understand.”

  “Yes, you do. For the past couple of months we’ve been playing games . . .”

  “I’m not playing games. I’ve always been honest with you.” She folded her arms, turned away from him, and walked into the living room.

  “Well, I haven’t been honest with you. I kept making excuses not to go back to see your pastor. Well, the truth is, I have no intention of going back.” Mac licked his lips. “I don’t want to get married, Linda. I’m not ready. I thought I was in love with you, but now . . . I . . . I don’t know how I feel.”

  “You’re seeing someone else, aren’t you?” She turned an angry gaze on him.

  “No . . .”

  “It’s Dana.” Linda’s eyes filled with tears. “I knew something was going on between you that time I went to your place and caught you together.”

  “And I explained that Dana came to me for advice. She wants to make detective, and I want to help. She’s a friend.” Mac realized that Linda had never really been a friend. Maybe that was the missing element—friendship.

  “Don’t give me that, Mac. I saw the way you looked at each other. You’re right. I haven’t been honest—at least not with myself.

  I kept clinging to the hope that you loved me, and I refused to believe that you were cheating on me.”

  “I never cheated on you.” At least not in real time—not unless you count being attracted to other women. Maybe he really was the sleazeball she seemed to think he was.

  “Get out.” Linda closed her eyes and turned away from him again. “Just get out.”

  Mac didn’t want to leave like that. He hated confrontations with the women in his life. Part of him wanted to apologize to Linda, but he didn’t. He’d told her how he felt and was glad he had.

  “I never meant to hurt you.” Mac said the words softly as he opened the door and stepped outside, but he wondered if she’d even heard.

  17

  MORNING, SUNSHINE.” Philly greeted Mac as he walked into the detective office at a little after seven, carrying his tie and briefcase. “You sleep in your car last night?”

  Russ laughed, retaining his position as Philly’s biggest fan.

  “I pulled a late one last night.” Mac rubbed his eyes. Actually he’d gotten home reasonably early but had stayed up until two o’clock watching television. It had taken that long to get past the guilt over breaking up with Linda and determining he’d done the right thing. “You guys seen Kevin this morning?” Mac received an alpha page from Kevin earlier, letting him know he didn’t need a ride to work after all.

  “Yeah,” Philly answered, but he apparently didn’t feel led to expand on his answer.

  Russ picked up the thread. “He’s in a closed-door with the sergeant right now; he’s been in there for over a half-hour.”

  “Oh yeah, what about?” Mac glanced at Frank’s office door.

  “I think he’s asking for a new partner,” Philly teased.

  “Good one.” Russ slapped Mac on the back as he walked past Philly to his cubicle.

  “You’re a ton of laughs, Philly, and I do mean a ton,” Mac muttered as he entered his cubicle and set his briefcase on the desk.

  “Was that a jab at my weight?” Philly followed Mac and stood beside the partition, rubbing his ample belly. “Better come up with some fresh material, newbie. I’m shedding the pounds on that all-protein diet.”

  Mac looped his tie around his neck and tucked it under his collar. Philly did look like he had lost weight. “How much have you lost, Phil? You do look like you’re slimming down.”

  Before Philly had a chance to answer, Russ piped up, “Five more pounds, and he won’t have to stop at those truck scales on the highways.”

  “You take a look in the mirror lately, SWAT boy?” Philly turned his sights on Russ. “Looks like that belt of yours is loosened a few notches.”

  Russ, no longer amused, hooked his thumbs on his belt.

  “That’s because I’m wearing a belt holster today.”

  “And your hairline’s receding too.” Philly tried to look concerned as he examined his partner’s hair.

  “I just got a haircut,” Russ snapped, apparently able to dish it out better than he could take it.

  “Don’t be so sure. Someday you’re not gonna be so young anymore, partner.” Philly laughed, seizing his victory in the contest of insults that he coveted so highly.

  With Philly’s focus on Russ, Mac took the opportunity to duck into the break room for a cup of coffee. He was more concerned with waking up than bantering with Philly. Not that he’d ever come out on top—especially not in the morning.

  Taking his cup of java back to his desk, Mac turned on his computer, listened to his voice messages, and began checking e-mail.

  “Get some rest last night?” Kevin entered Mac’s cubicle.

  “Not really.” Mac took a sip of the hot brew.

  “You work late on this case?” Kevin sat on the corner of the desk.

  “No. I went over to Linda’s after I talked to you.”

  Kevin smiled. “I wish I had your energy.”

  “What energy? I’m drained. We ended up having a fight and broke up.”

  “Hmm. How are you feeling about it?”

  “Okay, I guess. I’m not jumping for joy, but I’m not crying over it either.”

  “Well, I can’t say I’m surprised. I’m just wondering what took you so long.”

  Mac pinched his lips together. “I kept thinking I needed to hang in there. Part of me wanted it to work.”

  “And now?”

  Mac shrugged. “I did the right thing.”

  “I think you did, Mac.” Kevin stood up. “So, you still up for a cup and a trip to Wah-kella Falls?”

  “You know it. Ready when you are.” Mac grabbed his black leather police notebook from his desk.

  “Why are you still carrying that thing?”

  “Old habit from patrol. I tried the day planner thing for a while, but it never really took with me.” Mac rubbed the smooth leather cover with his initials stamped on the cover. “Me and this old notebook have spent a lot of years together. I guess it just suits me.”

  “Huh,” Kevin nodded. “I can understand that. My wife says the same thing about me.”

  Mac chuckled. “Hey, why were you meeting with Sergeant Evans? You in the blue room?” Blue room was slang for a disciplinary meeting with a supervisor.

  “No, nothing like that. I’ll tell you on the way.” Kevin rubbed the back of his neck. “Say, how’d the call to the deputy go last night? Are we going to get
our hands on that case jacket today?”

  “Yeah. He’s adjusting his shift and will meet us out at the falls.

  I told him we’d be there around nine unless he heard otherwise.”

  “That’s a pretty tough turnaround from his late swing shift. I got to thinking after we talked that we could have made it later.”

  “Wyatt said it wasn’t a problem. He has grand jury anyway, so he said he would be up. Seems like a pretty good guy.” Mac straightened his tie and tossed his notebook in the briefcase. “I also left a message for Chris to meet us up at the falls.”

  “Chris?” Kevin frowned.

  “Yeah, Chris Ferroli, the game troop who towed the body in for us. I thought he would be handy with his maps and knowledge of the Columbia River and the creeks that flow into it.”

  “Oh. Good idea, Mac.”

  Mac and Kevin started for the Columbia River Gorge after a quick stop at the Starbucks at SE 122nd and Division. Following the routine they’d established, Mac drove. He rather liked the arrangement, as he’d become accustomed to driving while working as a patrol officer.

  “Whew, that’s still too hot,” Kevin said, taking a sip of his coffee of the day—an Irish Cream blend.

  Mac couldn’t help but smile. When he and Kevin had first met, Kevin was a no-nonsense coffee drinker—black and straight up.

  Mac had been that way as well, but living in an area with a specialty coffee shop on every corner had broadened his horizons and sense of taste. Mac still liked plain old coffee, but he’d grown accustomed to his raspberry latte, as well. Philly teased him to no end about that.

  “So, what’s the deal with you and Sarge?” Mac skillfully maneuvered a curve with one hand, holding his coffee steady in the cupholder in the other, glad the snow plows had been out and the roads graveled.

  “Right. I almost forgot.” Kevin glanced over at Mac then to the road. “We talked about you, mostly.”

  “Me?” Mac kept his gaze on the road and the view of the Columbia River opening up ahead of them, trying not to let on that his heart had picked up speed or that his palms had started sweating.