Deadfall

by Patricia H. Rushford

  “That’s true.” Mac nodded. “Thanks, Kip. I appreciate your being up-front with me about Jessica.”

  “Look.” He stood. “I’m sorry I blew up earlier. I don’t have a lot of patience with things like that.”

  Mac got to his feet and shook Kip’s hand. “If you think of anything that might help us with the investigation, give my partner or me a call.”

  “I’ll do that.”

  Mac and Kevin completed their interviews in less than an hour then obtained a signed consent-to-search form for Brad’s home in the Hoodland community of Brightwood.

  “No one has been there since just after Jessica left.” Todd opened a kitchen drawer and withdrew a key ring. “There’s one for the front and back doors. His car keys are on there too. We left the place as is and locked it up. Brad’s Subaru is parked in the garage.”

  Vicki leaned against her husband. “We kept making payments, in case Brad came back.”

  Todd wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Guess now we’ll have to put it on the market.”

  “We’ll have our crime lab go out to the house tomorrow to assist us with a search,” Kevin said. “We want to make certain that there is no evidence of a crime at that location.”

  Since Jessica had been the only person, thus far, who placed Brad at the waterfall, they would need to do a thorough investigation of the house and car.

  “Do you need us at the house tomorrow?” Todd asked.

  “You are welcome to come along.” Mac hesitated in the doorway. “It will take us about four hours to go through it.”

  “Victoria and I may stop by, but again, make yourselves at home.”

  Mac nodded. “You folks have my number. Call me if you think of anything else.”

  “Thanks, Detective.” Vicki wrapped her arms around herself. “Just please, find whoever did this to our son. Please.”

  “We’ll do our best.” Mac ducked outside and headed for the car. He just hoped their best was enough.

  “You ready to call it a night?” Kevin asked as Mac climbed into the car.

  “You know it, partner. Tomorrow is going to come early.” Mac stretched. “My muscles are feeling the strain from yanking that old sheep around.”

  “You’re getting old, Mac.”

  “Ha. And what does that make you?”

  “Beyond old, I’m afraid.” Kevin winced as he got into the car.

  He had that odd look about him again.

  Before Mac had a chance to comment, Kevin asked, “Did you give Mr. and Mrs. Gaynes our numbers?”

  “I gave them my card yesterday, and it has my cell and pager numbers on it. Why?”

  “Just checking. I gave Vicki and Todd Gaynes one of my cards when I interviewed them.” After snapping down his seat belt, he went on. “We need to make sure we cover all the bases.”

  “Well, sure. What are you getting at? Did I do something wrong?”

  “No, no. Nothing like that. Even though we have a signature, the consent-to-search form could be revoked at any time. That means any evidence we find in the cabin could be suppressed.”

  “I’m not sure I get your meaning.”

  “Consent is only valid if the person providing the consent has the continual option of revoking the consent. A guy can’t say you can search his house and then you lock him up in jail where he can’t call you and take it back. The family needs our numbers so they can revoke consent at any time, in case we find condemning evidence for one of them.”

  “That doesn’t seem right.”

  “You’re telling me. Ask Philly. He was jammed up on a search of a car during a suppression hearing because the guy who gave consent was hauled off to jail. His defense attorney planted the notion in his brain after the fact. Philly nearly lost the case because of the suppressed evidence, which, by the way, was a bloody towel the stabbing suspect used to clean his hands. It’s a good thing he had other evidence.”

  “Hmm. I don’t see the Gayneses pulling the plug on us. They seem like decent people. And they really want the killer caught.”

  “What did you think of the son-in-law?” Kevin asked.

  “Actually, I meant to talk to you about him. Apparently, he doesn’t share Vicki and Rachael’s feelings about Jessica?”

  “How so?”

  Mac detailed the conversation. “Did Todd say anything to you?”

  “No, but then he didn’t say anything negative about Jessica either. Vicki pretty much took care of that part.”

  “Same with Rachael. I wonder why there’s such a discrepancy there. If Jessica’s as bad as Vicki and Rachael make her out to be, why didn’t the guys notice anything?”

  “I’m not surprised, Mac. Guys aren’t always as perceptive as women. Maybe Kip had a thing for Jessica.”

  Mac shrugged. “Maybe. He seemed pretty up-front about her, though. Maybe the dislike on the women’s part is due to jealousy.”

  “Could be.” Kevin held his hands in front of the heater, which was now blasting out almost too much hot air.

  “What do you think we ought to do about Jessica?” Mac asked. “We’ll need to interview her.”

  “That’s a tough call. Do we go to California to interview her or have a detective from down south hit her up?”

  “I’m for going to California.” Mac turned the heater down. “We could use a break in this weather.”

  Kevin smiled. “Ain’t that the truth.”

  Mac headed downtown to the OSP office, where he would drop Kevin off at his car then head home. Bed sounded good about now. Especially after the sleepless night he’d had.

  Mac wondered how Linda was doing and whether he should call her. Better not to, he decided. Break-ups should be clean and quick.

  “Does this case sound familiar to you, Mac?”

  “Hmm?” Mac glanced at his partner.

  “Remember a case our Astoria detectives had a few years back?

  The one where the woman was convicted of pushing her boyfriend off the cliff at Ecola State Park?”

  “Yeah, I do. In fact, that first day of the search I thought about it. Probably because we had such a similar scenario. Boy leaves girl in the park and doesn’t come back. Family can’t stand the girlfriend and blames her for the guy’s troubles.”

  “You don’t suppose Brad’s mother is making comparisons, do you? That could explain some of the animosity.” Kevin rubbed the back of his neck.

  “She might be.” Mac said. “That Ecola State Park case got a lot of press time. I’d be surprised if she didn’t know about it.”

  “Two of our guys were assigned the case after the boyfriend floated up on the Washington coast several months later. That guy’s girlfriend moved back to the Midwest somewhere, right after the boyfriend went missing at the beach. Our guys put together a great plan that had the victim’s parents invite the girlfriend back to Oregon to attend the funeral under the guise that they were paying her way. In reality, we paid for the plane ticket and got a chance to interview her.”

  “Right.” Mac nodded. “Good play. She confessed, didn’t she?”

  “Yep. Told the detectives she pushed her boyfriend over the cliff during an argument.”

  “You’re right; this is very similar.” Mac turned toward Kevin.

  “You think we ought to try the same thing with Jessica? Pretend the Gayneses are flying her home for the funeral, then interview her?”

  Kevin shook his head. “I’m not a big fan of that approach. For one thing, our guys caught a lot of flak during the trial. People don’t like the police being dishonest during investigations, no matter how legal it is.”

  “How are we going to do any undercover work then?” Mac said sarcastically. “Do they think we should send our narcotics guys into a sting wearing uniforms?”

  “Humph. Very funny. I’m just stating a fact. Juries don’t like police lying to suspects. I think we’ll make a call tomorrow morning and get a detective to Jessica’s home in Crescent City. Hopefully the address Vicki has is stil
l good. We need to let her know Brad is dead, no matter what the family thinks. If she won’t consent to an interview with us, we’ll fall back on the locals. If we’re lucky, she’ll come back to Oregon on her own accord and we can do a face to face. That’s the way I’d rather conduct business, but then again, you are the lead on this. Your call, Mac.”

  Darn. I was looking forward to a trip to a slightly warmer climate. But Kevin was right. It would be more efficient to have a local cop talk to her. Besides, Mac didn’t feel secure enough to take a different approach. “Sounds like a plan, Kev. Let’s hit the house tomorrow, and I’ll get the California cops to inform Jessica.”

  “Good. Sounds like a plan.” Kevin parroted one of his youthful partner’s favorite lines.

  “Smart-mouth.”

  22

  YOU GUYS MAKING ANY HEADWAY on that Salem caper, Sarge?” Mac asked as he walked past Sergeant Evans’s office. His question was partly curiosity about the murder-for-hire case and partly wanting to make sure his boss noticed he was at work at 6:30 A.M.

  Frank looked up from a stack of police reports and peered over the top of his reading glasses. “Oh, hey, Mac. This thing grew wings, but I think we have the old gal nailed. Eric got the request for the hit on a body wire tape.”

  I bet a jury won’t have a problem with that bit of “dishonest” undercover work, Mac thought. “So Eric was able to pull it off? You guys make an arrest yet?”

  “Yep. We got the husband in the loop. Had him holed up in a Motel 8 down in Marion County. The wife fronted us ten grand for the hit, with ten more when she got the proof.”

  “Proof?” Mac asked. “How did you pull that one off?”

  “By consulting with the master,” Philly said, as he maneuvered his large frame into the cramped office.

  “Something like that.” Frank rolled his eyes. “Now get lost. I gotta get these reports proofed and signed off. I’m sure Philly will share the details, Mac.”

  “Sure. Let’s get some coffee first.” Mac followed Philly out of the office and into the break room, where they filled up their coffee mugs and Philly hooked a couple of donuts.

  “What happened to your low-carb diet?” Mac asked, raising his eyebrows at Philly’s donuts.

  “Too restrictive,” Philly mumbled around the powdered donut he’d stuffed in his mouth as they entered his office.

  “Okay.” Mac settled into a chair. “Tell me what went down.”

  Philly dumped creamer into his cup. The air swooshed out of his oversized executive chair as he sank into it. “Russ and I dolled up the husband like a dead guy—the dude actually let us put makeup on him and everything. A little dirt on the face and some ketchup in his hair, and there you go.” Philly opened a file and showed Mac a few photographs.

  “These are good. He really looks dead.” Mac grimaced. “Did she fall for it?”

  “Hook, line, and sinker. Eric showed her the pics, and she handed over the money. End of story.”

  “I’m impressed.”

  “As well you should be.” Philly bit into another powdered donut, spraying sugar all over his suit and dark tie.

  “How’s your case coming along, Mac?” Frank stood in the doorway, holding a cup of coffee.

  “So far, so good.” Mac got to his feet. “We have an ID on the victim and are starting interviews with the family. The main person of interest right now is the victim’s girlfriend. She’s already moved out of state.”

  “You know the governor’s restriction on out-of-state travel, so don’t even ask,” Frank warned. “Our budget’s in pretty bad shape. No out-of-state travel unless it’s an emergency.”

  “Not to worry, Sarge, I called the S.O. down south last night and asked them to make contact with her. I asked if they would send an experienced investigator to note her reaction to the death notification and interview her if she permits. I also asked him to have her call me, but I don’t know if that will happen or not.”

  “Good. You and Kevin getting all the help you need?”

  “Right now, yes. We have Chris Ferroli, a game officer, helping on some of the follow-up, but we are just getting started on the interviews.”

  Philly scowled. “What help can a stump jumper be to a murder investigation?”

  Mac took exception. “For your information, wise guy, Trooper Ferroli has been a great help. He recovered the body and has given us some invaluable information on the falls area, where the victim was last reported missing.”

  “He knows, Mac.” Frank laughed. “Philly just likes making derogatory remarks.”

  “You know me too well, Boss Hog.” Philly sighed. “I’ll let you and Gramps bumble around for a day or two, Mac, and then give you some tips to wrap up this gig, just as soon as Russ and I are done with this murder-for-hire case.”

  “Thanks a bunch.” Mac picked up his lukewarm coffee. “I need a refill.”

  “Don’t mention it,” Philly called after him.

  “Yeah, thanks a lot.” Kevin appeared in the doorway, blocking Mac’s exit. Mac jumped at the sound of his voice, sloshing coffee on his jacket.

  “And what’s this Gramps stuff? I’m only a few years older than you.”

  “You just look a lot older,” Philly laughed. “And quit sneaking up on me.”

  “If you’d ever stop bragging about yourself, you might actually hear the door to the office open.”

  Kevin grinned at Mac. “Hey, partner, you ready? We need to be in Brightwood in about an hour.”

  Mac finished dabbing the coffee off his jacket, staining his white hanky. “You bet. Just let me grab my briefcase and get rid of this.” He tossed the stained hanky in a side drawer and left his half-empty cup on his desk. Briefcase in hand, he joined Kevin at the main door.

  The detectives started east on SE Powell Boulevard, which was US Highway 26 in Portland city limits. After stopping for real coffee, they drove through Gresham and Sandy on their way to the small community located twenty miles from Mount Hood.

  “Everything go okay with the sheriff ’s office in California?” Kevin asked.

  “They were glad to help. I expect to hear back in the next couple of hours.”

  “Good.” Kevin sighed, taking a sip of coffee. “Morning came early today.”

  “Hey, I meant to ask, what type of guns did Todd Gaynes have?”

  “Just a couple of rifles, like he said, and a .22 pistol in his nightstand. His rifles were a 7 mm magnum and a 300 Winchester, nothing close to what we’re looking for.”

  “I ran a check through the firearms verification unit in Salem last night. None of the other family members have firearms registered to them. Jessica doesn’t either.”

  Kevin raised his brows. “That would be helpful if it were accurate. That database is only about seven years old and only captures guns purchased by law-abiding citizens. You’re not going to find most of the guns bought at gun shows or on the street or in garage sales.” He shook his head. “It’s just too easy for crooks to get guns.”

  “Yeah, I was just hoping for a lucky strike.” Mac felt a bit defensive. Maybe the two of them were spending a little too much time together. Maybe Kevin was having second thoughts about giving him the lead.

  The detectives didn’t talk much during the drive east on Highway 26. Mac exited on Brightwood Loop Road, near the Oregon Department of Transportation truck weigh station. Using the directions Brad’s parents had given them, they easily found the small house Jessica and Brad had lived in. The one-story chalet was nestled amongst ferns and moss-covered fir and cedar trees.

  Because it was located so close to Mount Hood, the community along the Hoodland corridor was popular with skiers and others who enjoyed alpine living. On a clear day you could see the snow-covered twelve-thousand-foot peak.

  “This must be the place.” Mac eased into the gravel driveway.

  “Looks like Allison’s already here.” Mac pulled alongside the crime lab Ford F-250 pickup and parked.

  “Morning, guys.” Allison ste
pped down from the passenger seat of the truck. A male crime lab technician climbed out of the driver’s seat. After greeting each other, Kevin opened the front door with the key Vicki had provided. “We’ll run video on the outside if you can get started on the inside,” Mac told Allison.

  “Sounds good. We’ll go over the inside with the lights, both white and blue. I don’t see much need to spray chemicals unless we find something suspicious.”

  “Agreed.” Mac popped the trunk.

  Allison and her assistant disappeared inside the small house while Mac and Kevin examined the outside grounds.

  “Not much of a housekeeper.” Mac scanned the hundreds of beer bottles and cans that littered the back of the house, next to a fifty-gallon burn barrel.

  “You said it. I wonder why they didn’t return these for the deposit?” Kevin peered inside the barrel. After rummaging around in the barrel with a stick, he tipped it over to take a look at its contents. Then he pulled a pair of latex gloves from his jacket pocket and slipped them on, preparing to look through the debris.

  Mac continued to walk around the cabin, taking videos and photographs and looking for anything out of the ordinary.

  “No outbuildings; nothing much to look at,” Mac said as he returned to the small garbage dump Kevin was kneeling over.

  “Good. Help me dig through this burn barrel stuff. There’s a lot of paperwork here that someone tried to burn, but you can make out some of it.” Mac slipped on gloves and began to search through the papers, mainly bills and late notices from collectors.

  “Hello. Take a look at this.” Kevin held up a singed piece of white paper and handed it to Mac. “I wonder who Jeremy is?”

  Mac read the handwritten note.

  Dear Jess,

  I know our situation is a little weird right now, but I wanted you to know I’m thinking about you. I’m here for you if you need me. I’m willing to be your friend for now, but you know I would like to be more. You deserve so much better.

  Love always,

  Jeremy

  “Romeo’s got my interest,” Mac said. “I hope someone knows who this guy is so we can find out what this letter is all about. I’m wondering what that ‘situation’ is.”