Stone Cold (8 page)

Stephen sighed. ‘Maybe I’ll ask for a raise.’

He walked into the room and picked up his cell phone, slipped it into his pocket. He was dressed for work with his hair neat once again, clean shaven. The bastard looked like he’d just walked out of an aftershave advert.

‘You’re leaving again?’ Kathryn asked.

Stephen nodded as he hunted for his car keys, which were on the window sill, but Kathryn decided not to tell him just yet.

‘It’s the only thing to do right now,’ he replied. ‘If I leave now I won’t have to worry about traffic in the city later, and it’ll give me time to clear my head. I’ll stay in a hotel on the company card, get a good night’s sleep and probably feel like a new man by tomorrow morning.’

So will I
, Kathryn thought but did not say. She stood and reached up to slip her arms around his neck. His cologne smelled expensive and seductive at the same time. It helped Kathryn maintain a smile as she embraced him, instead of tightening her grip and biting his fucking face off.

‘You’re never here,’ she purred. ‘Why not stay the night?’

Stephen smiled, his hands resting in the small of her back. ‘I’d love to honey, but the sooner this is sorted the sooner we’ll be back on track, okay?’

It wasn’t a request and she knew better than to argue. Besides, feigning disappointment was enough for her. The sooner he left, the sooner she could get on with more important things.

‘Okay,’ she sighed miserably and pulled away.

‘I’ll make it up to you,’ he promised as he found his car keys and swiped them up from the window sill.

‘I know,’ she replied. ‘Love you.’

Stephen kissed her on the cheek, whirled and hurried out of the living room. Within moments he was gone, and she heard his car start up moments later and pull away into the cold darkness outside.

Despite everything, her greatest regret was the fact that he had not asked her how her first day at her new job was going.

***

10

Great Falls International Airport was illuminated by a galaxy of lights that flickered against the turbulent grey sky as Detective Griffin drove into the parking lot outside the main terminal.

‘McKenzie’s on his way,’ Maietta said as she dropped her cell phone from her ear and shut it off. ‘Ventura’s organised us a room out back of the terminal, somewhere we can talk without being observed.’

‘Great,’ Griffin said as he climbed out of the car and pulled his collar up against the cold air. The sound of an airliner taking off roared through the air around them as they walked toward the terminal, heads down against the gusts of sleet. A bitter grey, icy slush made the asphalt slick beneath their feet as they walked. ‘We need his help to try to figure out what the hell’s going on with his wife and make some sense of this.’

‘Sheila McKenzie’s insurance company confirmed that she holds a policy for four million bucks, payable on her death,’ Maietta said as she leafed through her notes. ‘There’s motive there, at least.’

‘And she owns that gallery, right?’ Griffin asked.

‘Has the freehold,’ Maietta replied. ‘I figure it’s a half million or more of prime retail space.’

Griffin frowned. ‘Even if the abductors got everything, including the McKenzie’s house, they wouldn’t get much past five million bucks. It doesn’t figure, unless the husband’s playing some kind of elaborate game here.’

‘Good time to find out,’ Maietta said. ‘Half the damned state’s on alert.’

Because the abduction had occurred within the Great Falls city limits, the case had become a GFPD responsibility, but the FBI had immediately been notified of the incident and investigation. The popular TV drama notion of police departments and Federal agencies being at loggerheads over jurisdictional control of cases was a fallacy: upon notification of the abduction, virtually every agency had leaped at the chance to offer assistance.

BOLOs,
Be On the Look Out
reports, had been sent state–wide and regionally by teletype. Border Patrol and Customs and Border Protection, CBP, for the Canadian Border had also been notified in case the abductors made a run north for Canada, just over a hundred miles away. A Missing and Endangered Persons Alert would be sent out and the Criminal Justice Information Network, National Crime Information Center and Rocky Mountain Information Network all utilized to disseminate info to law enforcement agencies. To add to that, Homeland Security had been informed and US Marshals Service were being kept apprised of the situation. Cascade County’s Sheriff’s Office and the Montana Highway Patrol had been issued with images of Sheila McKenzie, and although Great Falls no longer had an FBI Field Office, the Bureau was also discreetly sending out images of the victim across the country.

In short, whoever was holding Sheila McKenzie against her will would find it almost impossible to move her about the country without somebody seeing something.

‘Tight as a mosquito’s ass,’ Griffin agreed with some satisfaction. ‘Now we gotta hope they’re not smart enough to just stay put with her. What about Talbot, Sheila McKenzie’s former boss?’

‘She’s alibied out,’ Maietta replied almost apologetically. ‘She’s in the damned Bahamas, multiple witnesses, and apparently couldn’t care less about McKenzie. I guess she’s made her money and is out of the game.’

‘So much for Saira’s story of her being out for McKenzie’s blood,’ Griffin muttered. ‘We got anybody else?’

‘Nobody,’ Maietta replied.

They walked into the main terminal and, following directions relayed to Maietta by Ventura Air’s staff, found their way past the bustle of the terminal and out to a remote storage facility away from the public buildings. A member of Ventura’s staff with a solid alibi for the abduction met them and led them to what Griffin figured was some kind of staff room: Formica table stranded alone in the centre, one shelf with a battered old microwave, a water cooler and stacked mugs grimy with age.

The door closed behind them and a silence enveloped the room as they waited.

‘How’s Angela?’ Maietta asked as she leaned against the wall, her arms folded defensively as though bracing herself for the response.

Griffin shrugged. ‘She’s fine. Why?’

‘You haven’t mentioned her much lately, is all.’

‘Not much to mention.’

‘Are you guys okay?’

‘Are you my counsellor now?’

Maietta shrugged and fell silent. Griffin sighed.

‘She’s a little up–tight, you know?’ he said finally.

Maietta raised a dark, delicately curved eyebrow but said nothing. Griffin looked at her. ‘What?’

‘Nothin’.’

‘Crap, I know that look,’ Griffin said. ‘What, you think I’m to blame?’

‘I didn’t say that. It’s none of my business.’

‘Damn right it’s not,’ Griffin snapped. ‘Let’s just focus on the case, okay? Let Stone handle my head.’

‘How’s it going with her?’

‘It’s not, and that’s just the way I like it.’

‘She’s trying to help.’

‘She’s interfering and I don’t need help. I just need people to stop asking me damned questions about how I am all the time.’

The sound of footsteps outside the door silenced them, and the door opened as Dale McKenzie walked in.

Griffin placed a lot of faith in first appearances. McKenzie was tall, with dark hair and a tan that suggested either mixed parentage or foreign origin. But what interested Griffin more was McKenzie’s mannerisms and state of mind: the man was an airline pilot, an occupation of great responsibility, but McKenzie’s uniform was somewhat hastily arranged as though he’d rushed to the meeting, and his hair was somewhat in disarray. His gaze was quick but nervous, as though caught off balance. All of this Griffin took in at a glance and put down to the extraordinary circumstances McKenzie had suddenly found himself in.

‘Mister McKenzie, thanks for seeing us. This is my partner, Detective Maietta.’

McKenzie nodded at Maietta as the door was closed behind him, his gaze switching between the two detectives.

‘Have you found her yet?’

‘Nothing yet I’m afraid,’ Griffin admitted, noting that McKenzie’s first question and concern regarded his wife’s welfare. ‘But we’re already doing everything we can. Please take a seat, sir.’

‘What’s
everything
?’ McKenzie demanded as he sat down.

Griffin sat down opposite McKenzie, Maietta staying where she was, leaning against the wall.

‘We’ve got a team of six officers working the case,’ Griffin assured the pilot. ‘I’m leading the investigation with my partner Maietta, who is talking to other law enforcement agencies.’

McKenzie seemed satisfied with this, but he was wringing his hands.

‘Okay, let’s get started Mister McKenzie,’ Griffin said.

‘Dale.’

‘Dale, okay, good. Have you heard anything at all from Sheila’s abductors?’

‘Nothing,’ McKenzie replied. ‘I’ve had my cell with me at all times but there have been no calls at all.’

‘Okay, I want you to walk us through everything that happened this morning. Every little detail.’

McKenzie sighed. ‘I already went through everything with the sergeant over the phone.’

‘Humour us,’ Griffin insisted. ‘The more sure we are that nothing’s been overlooked the quicker we can move forward with the investigation. Anything, even the tiniest detail, can change everything in the first forty–eight hours of an abduction.’

McKenzie nodded and reluctantly began relating the morning’s events. Truth was, Griffin had already read the sergeant’s report three times and had every single moment of Dale McKenzie’s morning mapped out in his mind. Griffin wasn’t expecting new details because there wasn’t much to go on in the first place, but he did want to see if McKenzie changed anything, altered his story in any way.

McKenzie went through the description of his return flight, journey home, finding the note and calling the police on his cell. There wasn’t much to relate, really, and he stuck to his story. No deviation from the details, no tells in his demeanour that suggested to Griffin that he was telling anything other than the absolute truth.

‘Would anybody you know of wish to hurt your wife in any way?’ Griffin asked when McKenzie had finished. ‘Does she have any enemies, any old boyfriends, people like that who might hold a grudge?’

‘No,’ McKenzie replied without a moment’s hesitation. ‘She’s a hugely successful lady. That’s what attracted me to her in the first place.’

‘Your wife is the owner of an art gallery in the city, pretty high–class stuff, some international trade.’

‘Yes,’ McKenzie said, staring into his coffee. ‘I appreciate fine arts, but it’s Sheila’s passion in life. She’s been running the gallery for over ten years now and has a strong reputation.’

‘And a nice life because of it,’ Griffin noted with a friendly smile. ‘Your wife’s a real wheeler dealer, but she’s not in the seven figure range for turnover, right?’

McKenzie shrugged. ‘She runs her business, and I fly regional for Ventura Air. I don’t have any knowledge of her financial situation.’

‘You don’t know how much money your wife earns?’

McKenzie offered Griffin a tight smile. ‘Our relationship is not about money. Sheila is the big money earner, not me. We are comfortable, financially, which is all that matters to us.’

Griffin noted McKenzie’s use of the present tense and the use of
us
when referring to his wife: he believed that she would be found alive and well, and spoke of her naturally as his partner.

Griffin glanced at his notes once more. ‘Do you think that you’re ten million bucks comfortable?’

McKenzie blurted out a bitter laugh. ‘If we were, do you think I’d be working weekends and unsociable hours flying a Dash–8 out of Great Falls?’

‘Fair point,’ Griffin said, and scribbled a note. ‘So why does this abductor believe that you could raise ten million overnight?’

McKenzie shook his head. ‘I have no idea, detective. We don’t have anything like that kind of money.’

‘What about Sheila’s life insurance?’ Griffin asked.

McKenzie stared at his coffee for a moment and then looked up into Griffin’s eyes. ‘What the hell is that supposed to mean?’

‘Your wife has a life insurance program in place worth four million bucks,’ Griffin said. ‘Plus what her business premises is worth. That’s a lot of money.’

‘There’s the small matter of her having to die,’ McKenzie replied. ‘You think that I’d do that to her, for money?’

Griffin said nothing in response, just sat and stared at McKenzie for as long as it took for the pilot to break the silence.

‘In case you hadn’t noticed, I was at thirty thousand feet and five hundred nautical miles away when my wife disappeared. Who the hell do you think I am, David Blaine?’

‘You could be working with somebody else.’

McKenzie slammed a fist down on the table as he glared at Griffin. ‘Then why the hell would I go through such a charade? If I was insane enough to pull something like this then I’d just kill her, wouldn’t I, and report her missing?’

Griffin nodded. The assumption that he would have to go through the
charade
of an abduction told Griffin, along with everything else, that McKenzie almost certainly had not abducted his wife.

‘I apologise, Dale, if my line of questioning seems offensive, but it’s just something we have to go through. It’s not to accuse you, but to remove you as a suspect as soon as possible.’

McKenzie nodded, but now he refused to make eye contact. The unusual contradiction in McKenzie’s behaviour buzzed through Griffin’s mind.

‘When was the last time you saw your wife?’ Maietta asked, speaking for the first time since McKenzie had entered the room.

‘Yesterday afternoon,’ McKenzie said, ‘before I left for work.’

‘And she seemed okay, no problems, no apparent concerns?’

‘None, she was fine, really fine.’

‘Does she have any family beyond yourself?’

McKenzie shook his head. ‘No, we’re both orphans.’ He smiled, a little bitterly, and Griffin thought he detected the faintest hint of grief creasing McKenzie’s eyes. ‘We’ve only got each other.’

Griffin felt any last dregs of doubt over the pilot’s story flutter away. He glanced down at his notes and added a couple of words.
Both orphans.