Deadfall (19 page)

The dome light on Dana's car came on as she opened the door.

Her hair shone gold, creating a halolike aura. She stepped out of the car and grinned. Mac again felt drawn toward her. But then, he seemed drawn to a lot of women lately.

“Thanks for calling me, Mac.” Dana opened her arms for a hug, holding him a bit tighter than usual. When she let go, he realized she'd been crying.

“Are you sure you're up for this?”

“No, but I need to be here. I know they'll appreciate hearing about Brad from us.”

They made their way up the snow-covered walk, made more treacherous by the thick layer of ice.

Straightening his tie, Mac rang the doorbell and pulled out his badge wallet. Dana stood beside him, her badge fully visible on her jacket. The door swung open and Vicki Gaynes stood in the entryway, shifting her gaze from Mac to Dana. She was wearing a suit but had taken off her shoes. She'd probably just come home from work.

“Hello, Mrs. Gaynes,” Mac said. “I'm Detective McAllister and this is . . .”

“I know who you are, Detective. You were on the mountain that first day, helping to look for my Brad. And you . . .” She pulled Dana into an embrace, her eyes filling with tears. “How are you, Dana?”

“Good.”

“Mrs. Gaynes,” Mac tried again. “May we come in and speak with you?”

“Of course.” Vicki opened the door. “Let me get Todd. He's in the kitchen. Can I get you something? Eggnog, hot chocolate . . .”

Women so often did this. They knew why the officers had come, yet they wanted or needed to postpone the inevitable. Mac wanted to get it over with. He started to say so, but Dana interrupted.

“Hot chocolate sounds wonderful, Vicki.” Dana tossed Mac a look that clearly indicated that he should follow suit.

“Sounds good to me too.” He'd have preferred coffee, but apparently that wasn't an option. As Mac and Dana followed Vicki down the hall, he caught a glimpse of a family portrait and paused briefly to study the photo of the healthy-looking young man seated in front of Vicki. Why hadn't he thought about Brad sooner?

“Todd,” Vicki said as she passed the kitchen, “we have company. You remember Dana, and this is Detective McAllister. He helped with the search that first day.”

“Call me Mac,” he offered.

Todd lowered the newspaper, folded it, and set it on the table. “It's about Brad, isn't it?” Todd stood and shook Mac's hand.

“Oh.” The cry was sharp and tiny, like a puppy's yelp. Vicki's hand shot to her mouth as she sought to regain control. “P-please, sit down. I'll get the hot chocolate.”

The kitchen was cozy and warm. Six chairs surrounded the rectangular table set in a bay window. “Mind if we all sit at the table?” Mac asked.

“Sure.”Todd glanced at Vicki, who was pulling four large mugs from a glassed-in cupboard. “Vicki?”

“I'll just be a minute.” She poured boiling water from a teapot into the cups and dumped spoonfuls of Swiss Miss into them.

“Luckily the water's ready. I was boiling some for tea. It's so cold outside.”

Vicki set the mugs on a tray and carried it to the table. “Sit down, honey.” Todd held out a chair. When she was seated, Todd placed his hands on her shoulders. Vicki placed her hands on his.

Dana took a drink off the tray and handed it to Mac. Then she set one in front of Vicki and another at Todd's place. The big man sat down and wrapped his hands around the steaming mug.

They knew. Of course they did. Most people would ask what they wanted or why they were there before allowing them into their home. Todd wanted answers now. Vicki didn't want to hear the horrid news that she had outlived her son. But it was time. The only way to deal with this sort of thing was to be direct—no beating around the bush. “Mr. and Mrs. Gaynes,” Mac began, “could you just verify for me that you are the biological parents of Bradley Gaynes, who is reported as a missing person by the Hood River County Sheriff 's Department?”

“We are,” Todd answered, his voice barely audible.

Mac swallowed back the emotions welling up in his chest.

“Vicki,Todd . . . I am very sorry to have to say this, but your son is dead. His remains were recovered today in the Columbia River near Kelly Point.”

Vicki hid her face in her hands and began to sob. Todd squeezed his eyes shut, then rose and lifted his wife to her feet, wrapping his arms around her.

Feeling awkward, Mac stood. “We'll be in the living room. Take as much time as . . .” He stopped midsentence when he noticed the Gayneses weren't listening. Mac and Dana went into the next room to wait, allowing the parents to deal with the initial shock in private.

About fifteen minutes later, Mac set down the
National
Geographic
magazine he'd been thumbing through. “Did you know flies taste with their feet?” he asked in a whisper.

“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

M
AC 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 myself.”

“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 . . .”