Terminal 9 (17 page)

“Time to look at the garage. I want to take Polo around the structure before the scent dissipates.”

Mac handed over the leash to Jan. “Here you go. I think he likes you better anyway.”

“Polo likes anyone who'll feed him. C'mon, boy, time to earn your keep.” The two hurried off to resume the investigation.

“Shoot, that reminds me,” Mac searched for his phone inside his jacket pocket. “I need to get my neighbor to let Lucy out. I bet she's hating me about now.” Mac dialed his neighbor, relieved to find out Lucy was already in his care and had enjoyed a long morning walk.

“You're lucky to have a neighbor who'll take care of Lucy like that. Carl sounds like a gem.” Dana sighed. “Is he married?”

Mac shook his head. Carl was great with dogs, but he wasn't sure where he stood with women. “No. Maybe I can introduce you one of these days.”

“Don't sound so eager.”

Maybe I don't want to share.
Mac shrugged and kept the comment to himself, forcing his gaze back to the arson detective. Jan searched around the garage while the fire department investigators continued to examine the main structure. Several minutes later, she brought Polo back. “No hits by Polo around the garage. I'm going to put him away.”

Polo wagged his tail and looked up at Jan as if asking for a handout. “You want a treat?” Looking up at Mac and Dana she asked, “You know how these guys eat, don't you?”

“What, you mean their food type?” Dana asked.

“No, I mean how they eat. These arson dogs are fed only when they make a hit on some type of fire starter. Basically, they sing for their supper. Several times a day I have to drop little traces of gas or kerosene around the office or at home and let Polo find it before I give him a few bites of food. No find, no food.”

“Poor Polo,” Dana patted him on the head. “I'll bring you a big cheeseburger the next time I see you.”

“Don't even think about it.” Jan led Polo back toward the van.

“I was just kidding,” Dana called after her.

“I wasn't.” Jan looked back and smiled, softening her answer.

One of the firefighters searching through the rubble caught Mac's attention as he motioned for the fire captain to come over to his location. The firefighter lifted up a charred sheet of plywood.

After taking a look, the captain signaled for Mac and Dana to join him.

“We got us a problem.” The fire captain glanced up at the media people and frowned.

“What's up?” Mac looked in the direction of the cameras and leaned forward to better hear the captain. “One of my people just found a body over there under that piece of plywood.”

“You've got to be kidding.” Mac raked a hand through his hair and glanced over at Dana.

She stared at the plywood. “Whoa. This is getting too weird.”

“It gets worse. The body is in pretty good shape. Appears to be an adult male.” The captain lowered his voice. “There's a gun in his waistband. Hate to be the bearer of bad news, but we don't do guns. This one's got OSP written all over it.”

FIFTEEN

U
NBELIEVABLE.” Mac shook his head. “I'll call Sergeant Evans and get the medical examiner out here ASAP.”

Dana handed her crime scene log to the fire captain. “I think I have all the names of your fire personnel. Captain, would you mind looking over this list to make sure I haven't left anyone out?”

While she took care of the paperwork, Mac jogged back to the car and called Sergeant Evans, filling him in on the latest details.

“Thanks for the call, Mac. I'm on my way. Philly and Russ are cleared on the prison detail, so I'll have them respond to the scene as well. They should be there in about an hour.”

Mac hung up, feeling relieved. Philly, Russ, and the sergeant would be welcome additions. The so-called simple death investigation was turning into a three-ring circus.

His next call to the medical examiner's officer brought Kristen rushing to the scene. He wasn't surprised that she insisted on responding personally—especially since she'd taken such a keen interest in Clay Mullins.

She arrived in forty minutes, and Mac helped her get her gear out of the car.

“So you found the burn victim in Clay's house, huh?” Kristen hoisted her bag onto her shoulder and let Mac deal with the stretcher and body bag.

“Right. The body isn't in too bad of shape. The fire crew's been all over the place, taking care to soak or chop up the entire scene, so our chance of trace evidence is slim to none. We haven't gone over the body yet, no idea on any biographical information. Thought we should wait on you.”

“All right.” Kristen snapped the cuff on her purple glove. “Let's move.”

He and Dana gloved up and stood by as Kristen did her usual on-scene examination. With the firemen and their water hoses contaminating the scene, they wouldn't bother to wear booties to protect the scene from footprints.

Dr. Thorpe confirmed the gender. The victim had been partially shielded from the intense heat by an old piece of ceiling that had fallen on top of him. The section of ceiling, still coated with asbestos building insulation, provided a good barrier.

The victim was lying prone, faceup. His face was burnt beyond recognition, along with his lower arms and hands. The lower torso was still in good shape, considering what it had been through, with the jeans and denim jacket still intact along with a pair of Nike tennis shoes. “Well, well.” Kristen hunkered down and pointed to the man's open jacket and the gun tucked into his belt.

Mac secured the weapon, a small .22 rim fire pistol. The semiautomatic Taurus pistol had a half-full magazine with one in the pipe, indicating it may have recently been fired. The .22s were too small to test for bullet examination. “Let's bag this and get it over to the lab right away,” he suggested. “If we're lucky we'll get some good prints.” It didn't take an autopsy to know the victim's hands were too far gone to render any kind of ID or gunshot residue.

Dana held open a paper evidence bag, and Mac dropped in the gun and magazine.

“How soon can you get to this guy?” Mac asked Kristen.

Kristen rolled her eyes. “What is it with you detectives? Always in a rush. I'll jimmy my schedule a little—fit him in as soon as I can get him to the morgue. In fact, why don't you two come with me to collect any additional evidence we find during the post?”

“Sounds good to me, but I'd better check with Sarge.”

“I saw him drive in a few minutes ago,” Dana said.

Kristen nodded. “Let's get this guy bagged and into my van. The sooner I can get him there, the sooner I can get started.”

“You got it.”

Once they'd gotten the body into the back of the van, Mac asked Dana to get his car while he checked in with Evans.

“I have my car here too, Mac,” she reminded him.

His eyes felt gritty. “Would you mind leaving it here for a while?”

“Not at all.” Dana caught his keys and jogged to their vehicles.

“We can pick it up later or have Philly or Russ drive it back.”

Mac found his boss talking to the arson detective.

“From what I can see so far,” Mac overheard Jan tell Frank, “it looks like we're dealing with an arson.”

“Any idea on the guy inside?” Sarge's gaze followed Kristen as she pulled out of the lot and onto the main road.

“Your guess is as good as mine. For all we know the victim inside started the fire and got caught in his own mess. Or maybe the arsonist didn't know anyone was inside. Or maybe he did know.”

Sarge nodded, leaning down to give Polo a good rub between the ears.

“We have something interesting to add to the mix.” Mac held up the gun, offering the evidence bag to Frank. “There are rounds missing from the magazine, so it may have been fired. Wish I knew who he was and what he was up to. Might be another opportunist helping himself to Mr. Mullins's treasures.”

Frank peered at the gun and frowned. “I'll have a uniform take this in to the lab right away. We don't have any casings yet, I assume. Maybe the mag wasn't topped off.”

Mac shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine. If it's okay with you, Sarge, Dana and I will head to the morgue. Kristen's doing the post right away.”

“Good thinking. Philly and Russ should be here any minute.”

Dana drove up and stopped, then waved to Jan and the sergeant. Mac climbed in and lowered the window.

Frank leaned down, hands on the frame. “We'll stay here and work the crime scene with Jan.” His gaze shifting to Dana, he said, “You guys doing okay? You're both looking a little bedraggled.”

“I'm good,” Dana answered. “Got used to long hours on patrol.” Her animated smile put some muscle behind her words.

“Good, 'cause you're probably not going to get much rest for a while.” Frank seemed genuinely concerned for the detectives.

“Hey Sarge, would you mind having Russ drive my car back to the office, so I can head to the post with Mac?”

Frank extended his hand to take Dana's key, his eyes wary. He was probably wondering, along with Mac, how honest she was about her ability to perform under stress after pulling an all-nighter. Frank patted the hood and turned toward Jan. “Since this is your bailiwick, you're giving the orders. Where do we go from here?”

Confident that Jan and the others would methodically process the rubble for evidence of arson and/or murder, Mac leaned back into the seat. Hopefully Kristen could put some identification on the remains and give them an idea on the cause of death.

Mac was definitely fighting heavy eyelids—his adrenaline rush having worn off. They were about eight hours into their workday and, as Sarge had said, it was far from over. Mac had no intention of falling asleep, but the next thing he knew he and Dana were sitting in the parking lot at the morgue.

Dana jabbed his upper arm. “Hey, Sleeping Beauty. We're at the castle.”

“What?” His mouth felt dry and sticky.

She chuckled. “I thought about calling you Prince Charming, but the way you were serenading me with snores, I changed my mind.”

“Humph.” Mac yawned. “Sorry I fell asleep. I didn't mean to.” He stretched and yawned.

“Don't worry about it. Next time, you drive and I'll snore.”

It was just after eleven, and Dana had made good time. Kristen was just pulling in. Kristen honked the horn on her pickup as she backed into the covered bay. Henry, her longtime assistant, opened the heavy steel door and kicked a wood wedge underneath to keep it open.

“Special delivery, Henry!” Kristen yelled out the open window. “We have a burn victim.”

Henry held up his hands to guide her back to the door, making a fist with his right hand when he wanted her to stop.

“Let's get him ready for post ASAP. I want to take some temperature readings before he has a chance to cook any longer.”

“Sure thing, Doc.” After dropping the legs down from the rolling gurney, Henry pulled the body from the back of her truck.

“Didn't you check the temp at the scene?” Dana asked.

“I did, but with the fire factoring in, we have to do it again. Meat keeps cooking after you take it out of the oven, you know.”

Dana grimaced at the analogy.

“Anyway, I need a post temp too.”

“Whatever you say.” Dana bit into her lower lip. “I honestly don't know how you do this day after day.”

“Sometimes I don't either.” Kristen paused next to Dana. “The job isn't pretty, Dana. It never is. But it matters. That's what keeps me going. That, and finding answers to help you people catch the bad guys.” Her gaze shifted to Mac as if looking for affirmation.

Henry glided the charred victim into the tight hallway then took a hard left into the autopsy room with an ease that only comes from experience. He mopped the condensation from the top of the bag, unzipped it, and then heaved the body onto the stainless steel table.

“Sorry about slipping this one into the schedule, Henry. It's going to mean a longer day for you.” Kristen put on her heavy rubber apron and gloves.

“No problem, Doc. It'll reflect on my bill though,” Henry joked as he continued mopping up water.

“What's all that water from, the fire hoses?” Dana slipped on her own latex gloves.

“Condensation from the heat of the body,” Kristen answered. “No different than when you wrap a piece of hot meat with plastic wrap. That's why we want to post him right away, so all that moisture doesn't freeze in the cooler.”

“And I thought it was to appease us.” Mac glanced over at the body, now lying facedown on the table. Since the door had protected the victim from some of the flames, parts of his jeans and denim jacket looked almost normal. The question would be whether the victim had been dead before the fire started or if he'd been overcome by smoke inhalation.

“Hope we don't have to go the DNA route to identify this guy.” Mac began photographing the body. “Of course we do have the gun, so we might get some prints there.”

“And if we really get lucky,” Dana added, “it'll be registered.”

“Speaking of lucky.” He pointed out the outline of a wallet in the victim's back pocket and then clicked off a few more photos. “I've got enough pictures, Kristen, if you want to pull that wallet out now.”

“Hang on a sec.” Dana grabbed a manila evidence envelope and labeled the outside
Left rear pants pocket contents.
She set it on the metal evidence collection table that was situated along the room's east wall.

They held a collective breath as Kristen pulled a black leather wallet from the victim's pocket and set it on the exam table. “It's all yours, guys.”

Mac photographed the wallet then asked Dana to open it.

“Here goes.” Dana opened the wallet and began laying the contents on the steel table for examination. The first item to emerge was an Oregon identification card with green print, often used by adults with suspended driver's licenses who required valid state identification. Dana set it on the table for Mac to see.