Terry Odell - Mapleton 02 - Deadly Bones (17 page)

Did the bleeping get faster? Megan slitted her eyes open. Rose’s were closed. Was she asleep? Dreaming? Or responding to Megan’s slip that she was applying for a loan? Megan waited a moment, assuming that if the faster bleeping meant trouble, a nurse would be right in. But no one came. Megan decided it would be safer to go back to reading. She reached for the book, but Rose’s hand darted out.

“The book can wait. It’s your story I want to hear. Are you still working at Peerless while you plan this new career?”

“No. I quit.” Megan gave Rose the abbreviated version, omitting the part about her new—now ex—boss’s sexual advances. That would be going too far. And would probably upset Rose enough to red line her bleep machine.

“Where do you plan to start this new business?” Rose said.

Tears sprang to Megan’s eyes. No judgments, no admonishments about abandoning a more lucrative career. Total acceptance. And now Megan felt guilty about not saying something sooner.

“I’ve been testing the waters around Mapleton and the surrounding towns,” Megan said. “I’ve spoken to several Bed and Breakfasts about simple weddings, parties, small family reunions and the like. They like the idea. We’re not far from Denver, and I can tap that market for florists and specialty shops if there’s not enough locally. The whole idea is to give the event a home-based touch rather than an impersonal ‘Option 3b’ cookie-cutter party.”

Rose reached up, and Megan extended her hand. Rose held it, squeezed it gently. “I know you will succeed. And if you need any financial support, Sam and I will be proud to become investors.”

“Thanks, but no. I’m going to succeed, and I’m going to do it on my own. You and Sam have already done so much for me. You deserve to enjoy your savings.” She lifted Rose’s hand to her lips and kissed it. “There is one thing, though—”

“Name it, and it’s yours.”

Megan chuckled. “Don’t offer something you might regret. I was wondering if you’ll part with your
Apfelkuchen
recipe. I know it’ll be a huge hit.”

Rose laughed, which set off a fit of coughing. Megan jumped to her feet. “Should I call the nurse?”

Rose waved her off, pointed to the water. Megan offered the straw, and Rose took a long drink. “Coughing loosens things, the doctor said.” And took another sip. “And of course you can have my recipe. It shouldn’t die with me.”

“It’ll be a long time before you have to worry about that.”

“When I’m home, we will bake it together,” Rose said.

“I’m a terrible cook.”

“You were always busy playing sports. I never insisted you learn. But now I shall.”

Megan settled back into her seat, a warm feeling wrapping around her heart. “I look forward to it.”

“I still want to invest,” Rose said.

“And I’m still going to refuse. Take whatever money you would invest in my business, and as soon as you get well, you and Sam take that vacation. A cruise. The Caribbean, or maybe Alaska. I’ve heard that’s a gorgeous part of the country. And I still have contacts in the business. I can get you a deal.”

Rose smiled and adjusted her nasal tubes, taking in a few breaths before speaking. “But if I invest in your business, I know I’ll get the money back. Vacation money is gone forever.”

“But you’ll have the memories.” Sudden images of Rose’s lingerie flashed behind Megan’s eyes.

No, no, no. Don’t go there.

Megan needed to change the subject. Fast. She studied Rose, looking for any signs of fatigue or stress, but if anything, Rose looked better than she had when Megan had entered the cubicle. “Gordon’s following up on the information you gave him. It makes more sense that nobody sneaked in and buried bones in your yard while you were living there. That’s creepy. The police were digging when I went to get your things—” Great. Here came those images again.

To shove them away, she concentrated on visualizing the modest sleepwear she’d packed. “Gordon said they’re having a bona fide crime scene team do the excavation. Who do you think the bones belong to?”

Rose tsked. But her eyes brightened, and Megan didn’t think it was because of the fever.

Megan leaned forward, her own heart thumping faster than Rose’s bleeper. “Do you think you might know?”

Chapter 19

With a sigh, Gordon transferred the last piece of paper into his out box. He dripped another dose of drops into his burning eyes. Would reading glasses help? But they were for the over-forty set, and he was still years outside that demographic. Laurie tapped on Gordon’s half-closed door. He shoved the eye drops into the desk drawer, blinked, and invited her in. “You have the owner of the property?”

“Yes and no,” Laurie said.

“Explain.”

“It’s a corporation, not an individual. Roger, Suben and Clark, Inc. The good news is that it’s a Colorado corporation, so I should be able to track it down without too much trouble. The not so good news is that all I’ll get is the name of the company’s registered agent. There could be dozens of employees, any of whom might have a connection to that specific property. Or the bones. If you want more, I’ll have to dig for it.”

“Please do. But take care of the filing first.” He gestured to his outbox. When Laurie peeked at her watch, Gordon checked the time. After four? Where had the day gone? Right. Bones, mayor, and hospital. Those extra-curricular activities sucked up the hours. “You can deal with the corporation research tomorrow.”

Laurie paused at the door. “That it?”

“That’s it. Have a good evening. See you in the morning.”

Right after Laurie left, Connie came in. “Chief, I’ve gone through Irv’s transmissions for the last three weeks. He’s a little… informal… at times, but I didn’t find anything I’d have suggested discipline or retraining for. Looks like what you heard was the exception, and since you spoke to him, he’s gone totally by the book. I can go back further, if you’d like.”

Gordon rolled that around for a moment. “Can you find a night where something more urgent came through? I’d like to know how he handled a higher-stress call. On the off chance he freaks when things get dicey, I need to know about it.” Since Connie had trained Irv, Gordon assumed she’d have noticed anything unacceptable before she’d recommended him for Dispatch, but people—and their performances—changed, and today’s Irv might not be the Irv Connie had approved.

“Will do.” She paused. “Any word on the bone case? The airwaves have been quiet.”

“Good. That’s the way I want it. And no, nothing new.”

“Gotcha. You want me to make sure Irv understands? I can talk to him when he comes in.”

“Couldn’t hurt.” Should he mention the mayor’s scanner? No, Connie knew scanners were all over the place, and calling attention to the mayor’s apparent interest in police business might make her self-conscious. Or feel as though Gordon didn’t trust her to do her job. And who knew how it would affect Irv?

“One question,” Gordon said. “You’ve got the inside track on most of the scuttlebutt around the department. What undercurrents are you feeling? Any undue interest in these bones?”

She flattened her lips and appeared to be weighing her words before speaking. “Everyone knows they’re out there. But they respect you, Chief, and I’d say most of them are keeping their mouths shut. It’s hard to up patrols and keep things quiet.”

“Understood.” And he’d heard the slight emphasis she’d put on the word
most
. There would be talkers—there always were. “You deal with Irv. I’ll speak to the patrol officers at their briefing. I have to agree with Mayor Alexander on one thing—we don’t need a bunch of lookie-loos or a media circus.” Lord, he didn’t need the media. Press conferences and media briefings made him almost physically ill.

“Anything else?”

“No, just Irv’s performance. Thanks.”

Connie nodded. “I’ll try to dig up some transmission tapes before Irv gets here.”

Gordon sat for a moment after Connie left. When he’d been a cop, there had been a barrier between doing his job, and dealing with the media and politics. Until he took over as Chief, Gordon hadn’t realized how much Dix had done to establish and maintain that buffer between the cops and the bureaucrats. Gordon had developed a decent rapport with the local paper—thank goodness it was a weekly. And, as far as he was concerned, politics had no place in police work. But try telling that to the politicians.

All part of the job. He was determined to be as effective as Dix had been so his officers could do their jobs. He rubbed his eyes again and pulled up the budget spreadsheets.

When his direct line rang half an hour later, he was surprised to see the call was from Tyler Colfax, a homicide detective with the sheriff’s department. They’d worked together on solving a homicide in Mapleton a few months back, but he hadn’t heard from the detective since they’d shared a few beers after they’d put that case to bed. Gordon had been a cop too long to think that a call from Colfax right after unidentified bones had been discovered was a coincidence.

“Hepler.”

“Heard you’ve got a potential homicide. Mapleton becoming a hotbed of crime?”

“And hello to you, too. First, it hasn’t been proven a homicide.” Colfax’s silence raised the hackles on Gordon’s neck. “Shit. What do you have?”

“Untwist your knickers, Hepler. Nothing confirmed, but when the Coroner’s Office orders a Crime Scene Response team to little old Mapleton, my cop radar hums, and I wonder if we’re going to be working together again.”

“God, I hope not.” Gordon laughed. “Nothing personal. Don’t need another homicide, is all.”

“Not that I like the idea of another homicide, but cold cases have always fascinated me.”

“Trust me, if it does turn out to be homicide, you’ll be my first call. Right now, I’ve been virtually ordered to stand down from investigating what has been called a waste of resources.”

“And I’m not wondering where that directive came from.”

“Ever thought about running for mayor?” Gordon said, tongue only partially in cheek.

Colfax guffawed. “Is the Devil ice skating?”

“Guess not. And I haven’t noticed any airborne pigs, either.”

“Seriously, I’m touching base, and if anything pops in the homicide scheme of things, I’ll get back with you.”

“Thanks. Asel’s supposed to let me know what they’re doing.”

“Don’t hold your breath.”

“Actually, he’s been on top of things. This case interested him, and he’s in the thick of it.”

A pause told him Colfax was having trouble processing that tidbit.

Colfax hissed a low whistle. “Maybe the Devil
is
ice skating. I’m definitely keeping my eye open for pig excrement dropping from the sky.”

“Catch you later,” Gordon said. Colfax disconnected. As soon as Gordon replaced the handset, his cell rang. Now what? A check of the display told him it was Asel. His pulse quickened.

“Hepler. Got something?”

“Not what you want to hear, I’m afraid. CSR is swamped. Three new cases in the last hour. We’re on the back burner until tomorrow. Might take two of your officers to maintain the scene tonight.”

“You’ll have them.” If Colfax was talking homicide, and Connie said the word had leaked out about the bones, Gordon couldn’t take a chance that they might have a killer on the loose, and if they did, he—or she—might want to get rid of the evidence. “Got anything else?”

“Your man Titch and I have been excavating the site where we found ribs and vertebrae. Hoping to find the pelvis, which should let us know if we’re looking at a male or female. Of course, a skull would be nice, too.”

Gordon couldn’t picture the rotund Asel down on his knees digging, but Titch could do the work of three. “I’ll cross my fingers.” He consulted the duty roster. “Titch is on until twenty hundred. I’ll have relief for him by nineteen forty-five. Let me know when you’re leaving, and I’ll have someone else out there.”

“I’ll have to leave at six,” Asel said. “But if I can pull the right strings, I’ll be back at eight tomorrow morning. CSR should have a team here by then.”

“Sounds like a plan. And thanks.”

Gordon disconnected and looked at his manpower stats. He could pull a few people from the volunteer civilian corps for routine patrol. Ninety percent of what they did was provide a visible presence. If anything got out of hand, they’d call sworn officers. Using the corps would free up a couple of uniforms to guard the site. On the off chance a killer
did
show up, he didn’t want civilians in the line of fire.

When his cell rang with yet another interruption, he would have cursed, except for the fact that it was Angie’s ringtone. As always, hearing it brought an automatic smile to his lips. “Hey there.”

“Hey there, yourself. Have you had dinner?”

On cue, his stomach rumbled. “Not yet.” Angie didn’t work the dinner shift on Mondays. “You have something in mind? I’ll have to be back by twenty-hundred hours for the shift briefing.”

“That’s eight o’clock, right?”

“Exactly. You’re learning.”

“Then there’s plenty of time. There is one catch, but I didn’t think you’d mind.”

Catch? What scheme was she working on now? “Which is?”

“Dinner’s with my grandparents. They invited me, and I remembered you’d said you wanted to talk to them, so I asked if they’d mind setting an extra plate.”

“Let me guess. You called them, they didn’t call you.”

“Just trying to help.”

“And you told them I wanted to ask them questions.”

A brief pause. A quiet, “Yes.”

Since they were on his to-do list, he forgave Angie’s meddling. “Are you sure it’ll be okay?”

“Okay? It’s perfect. Come by and pick me up. That way, I’ll have a reason I have to leave, too. They still don’t grasp that getting up at four-thirty means I can’t sit and watch
The Tonight Show
with them.”

“Give me fifteen minutes. I have to take care of a few things.”

“I’ll be ready. They’re going to love you.”

“Angie, what else did you tell them?”

But she’d hung up.

* * * * *

Gordon kept his mouth shut on the way to Angie’s grandparents’ house, preferring the strained silence to starting another fight. She’d thought she was helping when she’d wangled this dinner invitation. Rather than push, he let it drop. Although, he admitted to himself, he wouldn’t mind another round of make-up sex.