One Was a Soldier (31 page)

She would be alone.

“The suspect resisted arrest and assaulted Officer McCrea. Officer McCrea managed to subdue the suspect, sustaining injury in the process. I was about to cuff the suspect and Mirandize him when you came in.”

The chief let his gaze travel around the kitchen. The blood spattered on the floor, the broken phone, the toppled chair. When he spoke, his voice snapped like a broken branch. “Subduing an arrestee means physically restraining him, not hitting him until he can’t fight back.”

Hadley swallowed. “I was knocked down and away in the struggle. I wasn’t able to assist for several … seconds.” She had no idea if that was plausible or not. “I wasn’t able to control the situation with my sidearm until Officer McCrea was … until the perp was…” She made a motion like pulling dough apart.

“Eric?” McCrea got to his feet. He stumbled and listed to one side, favoring his right knee. The chief looked at him a long moment. “Get out to your unit and wait for me there.”

McCrea nodded. He limped out the kitchen door, not looking at Hadley. When he was gone, the chief crossed the floor. Got down on one knee next to McNabb. Took the man’s chin and gently turned his face side to side. McNabb moaned. “Jesus,” the chief said.

He stood. Fished his phone out of his pocket. Punched a single button. “Harlene? Russ. I want you to send an ambulance to 16 Musket Way.” He paused. “No. They’re fine. It’s for Wyler McNabb.” Another pause. “Just tell ’em it’s not a gunshot or a heart attack. And Harlene? Keep it off the radio. Use the phone.”

He hung up. Looked down at Hadley, looked
into
her, like he could see everything she had hidden away. Her stomach fluttered. She had to force herself not to drop her gaze. God. No wonder he got such good results in interrogations. “Knox. Hadley. What really happened?”

“What I told you, Chief. That’s what happened.”

“What you told me.”

She tucked her chin.

“That’s your story.”

She licked her lips. “That’s what happened.” To her horror, her eyes welled with tears. “I know I should have done better, Chief. I’m sorry.”

The chief sighed. “So am I, Hadley. So am I.”

*   *   *

The fifteen minutes before the ambulance arrived were some of the longest in Hadley’s life, and that included labor and delivery. When the EMTs finally bustled in, they were efficient and cheerful, taking McNabb’s vital signs, reporting to the ER by radio, not by word or glance suggesting something had gone badly wrong in this kitchen. When they hoisted McNabb on a stretcher and wheeled him outside, the chief jerked his head, indicating Hadley should follow.

He stopped her with a gesture beside McCrea’s car. Eric sat in the driver’s seat, staring out the windshield with unfixed eyes. His usual sharp edges seemed blurred, as if someone had taken his picture and half-erased it.

“I want you to accompany the ambulance,” the chief told Hadley. She nodded. “Eric?” McCrea looked up. “Knox maintains that McNabb was injured because he resisted and attacked you.”

Eric glanced up at her, then dropped his eyes.

“
Even
if that is true, you used excessive force. I’m suspending you. Two weeks without pay. Starting now. You’ll return your vehicle to the department and leave it there.” The chief held out his hand. “I want your service weapon and your badge now.”

McCrea gaped. “But…”

The chief braced a hand on the top of the car and leaned in. “If McNabb retains a lawyer, and if the board of aldermen demands an investigation, it’ll be a lot longer. Now give me your gun.”

“I have the right to a review.” McCrea’s voice was panicked. “I have that right.”

“Call your union rep and set up an appointment. In the meantime, I’m exercising my right to suspend you.”

McCrea looked at his lap, out the door, at the passenger seat of his cruiser. Anywhere except at the chief. Finally he retrieved his badge and passed it through the window to the chief. Then he leaned to one side and removed his gun from its holster. Handed it, butt side up, to the chief. The chief held the SIG SAUER up where they could all see it. He stared at the tracery of blood on the grip. “The authority we hold is based on the trust of the citizens of this town.” His voice was hard and tight. “When you abuse that trust, you shame yourself. You shame
me.
You shame everyone who wears our uniform.” He turned his head and stared at Hadley. She wanted to die. He pointed toward the ambulance, pulling into the road, its blue lights flashing. “Go.”

She fled to her car. Dove in, slamming the door behind her as if she could keep the shrieking harpies of her own conscience out with steel and glass. She started the ignition with a shaking hand. Wondered, as she lurched into gear and rolled after the ambulance, if any amount of shunning from her fellow officers could possibly feel as bad as this.

*   *   *

Russ stood outside the main entrance to the Washington County Hospital and shivered. The temperature had dropped twenty degrees when the sun went down, and there was for sure going to be frost on the pumpkin tonight. He should have worn his MKPD-issue parka.

The tap-tap of heels made him turn around. Lieutenant Colonel Arlene Seelye strode up the walk, her khaki skirt and trench coat standing in for a uniform. No matter how casually dressed, active duty military personnel never quite managed to look like civilians. Seelye didn’t.

“I appreciate you for inviting me along on this, Chief.” Her tone wasn’t warm, but she held out her hand.

He shook it. “Don’t thank me yet, Colonel. You can see if McNabb will agree to let you search the house. That’s as far as it goes.”

“I plan on asking him about his wife’s finances.”

He tilted his head. “After I find out what he knows about her death.”

“As you say.”

They entered the building side by side. It was eight fifteen, after visiting hours, and the corridors were mostly empty. Russ led her to the right elevator bank, and they rode to the third floor in silence. One of the hospital security guards was sitting outside McNabb’s room, scratching away with a pencil in a fat, floppy book. Russ plucked the man’s name from the back of his memory. “Hank. Hi. How’s he been?”

“Heya, Chief. Quiet as a mouse. He had a couple guys from work come to visit, and his mama and then his papa. She left mad, promisin’ she was gonna call a lawyer, and
he
left mad, saying the same thing. I guess they’ll have to hash it out between ’em.”

“Thanks. Why don’t you take a break while I talk with him?”

“Don’t mind if I do. My bladder can’t sit still more’n two hours these days anyway.” The guard ambled off, Sudoku puzzles flashing them at every step.

“He’s already in custody?” Seelye said.

“For resisting and assaulting an officer.” As much as it turned his stomach to do it, Russ was going to stand by the arrest. It was obvious, from Eric’s limp and his bloody nose, that McNabb
had
gotten a few good hits in.

They entered the single-bed room. Seelye inhaled sharply. Unfortunately, it was obvious that Eric had gotten in a hell of a lot more hits. The colonel looked at Russ like he was something nasty she found underneath the leaf pile. He wanted to explain, wanted to tell her
We’re better than this,
but what could he say? McNabb’s pulpy, bandaged, purpling face spoke damningly for itself.

McNabb stared at them while Russ pulled out a chair for Seelye and then sat down himself. “Wyler? I don’t know if you remember me. I’m Russ Van Alstyne, chief of police. I’d like to ask you a few questions.”

“He hit
me.
” McNabb’s words were slurred by the damage to his cheek and jaw, but his tone was clear. “That bastard hit
me.
I didn’t do
nothin’.
I’m gonna sue him, and you, and the rest of the cops, and the goddamn town. You all gonna be taking tickets at the movies for a living when my lawyer gets through with you.”

“I’m not here to discuss what happened today.”

“Oh, I jus’ bet you’re not. How’m I supposed to work like this? I’m due to head off for another construction job at the end of this week. Who’s gonna make up for that if the doctor don’t clear me to go?”

“You’re not going anywhere in the immediate future, Wyler. You’re under arrest, remember?”

“Under arrest my ass. I was defending myself. No judge’s gonna hold me when they see what your cop did to me.”

Russ smothered a sigh. “I want to ask you about your wife.”

McNabb went quiet. He turned his face toward the ceiling. “If you’re gonna break the bad news to me, save your breath. M’mother told me. She killed herself.”

“When was the last time you saw Tally?”

“Monday morning. ’Fore she went to work.”

“How was she when you saw her? Happy? Sad? Did you two argue?”

“Argue? Hell. We fought. I was headed off with Fetch for the week. Going to a big casino in Connecticut. She din’t like Fetch, and she din’t like gambling, and she sure as hell din’t like me being out from under her thumb.”

“So you fought. Were you mad at her?”

“Not mad enough for her to want to kill herself.” He rolled his head back toward them. “Look, she was screwed up in her head about the war. Lots of soldiers come back that way. I saw it on the news. She was going to this counselor. You go ask her if you want to know why Tally did it.” For the first time, his voice shook. His eyes sheened over. “Goddammit. She always was a pain in my ass. Always had to have things her way. Didn’t even wait to tell me good-bye, the—” His voice cracked.

McNabb blinked ferociously and hacked. Russ handed him a tissue, and McNabb spat into it, balling it up in his fist. “When did you get back from the casino?” Russ asked.

“This morning. About an hour before your guy comes along like Vin freaking Diesel.”

“Were you alone at the casino?”

“I told you, Fetch was with me.” McNabb’s mouth dropped open. “Ohh, I get it. You think I was cheatin’ on Tally, and that’s what set her off. Well, I wun’t. One woman is more’n enough trouble for me. I don’t need that kind of complication. Closest I got to girls was the tits and ass show.”

“Did you leave the resort for any length of time?”

“Nope.”

“Did you get any calls from Tally? Or call her?”

“Nope.”

Kevin, who had been detailed the task of faxing McNabb’s picture to area casinos, had already gotten in touch with Mohegan Sun’s security. They were reviewing their camera footage and would send the MKPD the relevant pictures and a summary of McNabb’s movements. It would have taken a seven-hour window to get from Uncasville to Millers Kill and back again. If McNabb had been gone that long, they would know it.

“One more question,” Russ said. “Do you know of anyone who might want to kill Tally? Or any reason why?”

McNabb’s mouth sagged. His eyes bugged. “What? No!”

Russ waited to see if more was forthcoming. It wasn’t. “Okay. Thank you, Wyler.”

“I’m still gonna sue your ass,” the younger man mumbled.

Seelye leaned forward. “I’d like to ask you a few questions now, Wyler. About Mary—Tally’s service in Iraq.”

McNabb made a face that would have been a frown if his eyebrows could have moved. “Who’re you?”

“I’m Lieutenant Colonel Arlene Seelye.”

For the first time, Russ saw apprehension on McNabb’s face. “What do you do? What, you know, branch are you in?”

Seelye hesitated. Glanced at Russ. “I’m with the military police.”

McNabb turned toward the ceiling again. Clicked his mouth shut. “I’m not saying nothing without my lawyer.”

*   *   *

It was colder outside now. A raw, damp cold that promised more rain in the next day or two. Seelye shivered and buttoned her trench coat. “You folks ever have anything approaching warm weather?”

“July and August. First half of September.”

“And you came here voluntarily?”

He shrugged. “It’s home.”

She made a noise. Fished in her coat for a tissue and blew her nose. “So what do you think?”

“He didn’t do it.” He jammed his hands in his jacket pockets. “Unless he’s the greatest actor since Laurence Olivier. I’ll take a look at the casino report, but I’m betting it’ll show us he was there the whole time. Just like he said he was.”

“You going to clear it as a suicide?”

He nodded. “I’ll give the ME the results of the investigation. He’ll make the ruling. Release the body.”

“And that concludes your interest in McNabb.”

“Unless you’ve got information suggesting someone else might have had the means, motive, and opportunity. Like maybe a co-conspirator.”

She looked at him. “Did you find any anomalous prints at the scene?”

“No.”

“Then, no. I have no reason to suspect anyone else is complicit in her death.”

“Would you tell me if you did?”

She thought for a moment. “Yes. Unless it would torpedo my own investigation.” Her wide mouth twisted. “The army’s interest is in getting its money back, after all.”

“Wyler McNabb knows something.”

“Oh, yes. I’m quite sure Mr. McNabb knows a great deal about that money.”

“Let me give you some free advice. John Ryswick is the judge you’re going to be dealing with for the warrants. Give him more information than you think he could possibly need, and make sure you cross your t’s and dot your i’s. Have you gotten the federal district attorney in the loop?”

“Not yet.”

“Hold off as long as you can. Ryswick doesn’t like the Feds.”

“Thanks for the heads-up.”

He held out his hand. “Let me know if we can assist.”

She shook it. “I will. I plan on wrapping this up and getting out of here as quickly as possible.” She hunched her shoulders against the chill. “This weather is actually making me miss Iraq.”

MONDAY, OCTOBER 10

The rain that had drifted in patchy showers through the weekend was on again Monday morning, a cold drizzle from a blank gray sky. Perfect weather for a funeral. Clare could have walked—the cemetery was barely a mile away—but she had pressed her Class A uniform and polished her regulation one-and-three-quarter-inch heels, and she wanted to look parade-ground ready for the interment. So she climbed into the rattleclank Jeep and drove.