Terminal 9 (29 page)

“What I can't get over,” Dana said, “is that none of us would likely be investigating his death if he hadn't gone for help.”

“True enough.” Kristen zipped up the bag. “If Clay had died in his house—at his age and with his medical problems, the body would probably never have come to me.”

“Maybe God did want to make sure the murder didn't go undetected.” Dana gave Mac a tight smile.

“You've been around Kevin too long.” Mac placed the jars in a sack. He wouldn't admit it, but he missed those asides with Kevin and the mini-Bible studies. Maybe he'd have to take Kevin up on his offer to go to church with him. He wondered how Kristen felt about church. Hopefully she wasn't a fanatic like his ex-fiancé Linda turned out to be. Not that he had time to think about all that now.

“Thanks for your help, Kristen,” Mac said. “I appreciate you getting to this so quickly. We'll get these right over to the lab.”

“You're welcome.” Kristen waved. “Besides, I like you owing me.”

TWENTY-
FIVE

M
AC AND DANA rushed the flesh samples back to the Portland crime lab so Allison could begin her tests. She promised to work as long as it took, but warned them that the definitive results would not be available until morning. The initial blood work indicated they were indeed looking at toxic levels of ricin in Clay's blood. The actual flesh around the injection site would provide investigators with conclusive evidence as to how Clay was killed. The only problem now would be to determine who had killed Clay and Jacob Mullins. Were they looking at one bad guy or two—or more?

While at the lab, Mac received a page from Philly, who was out in Columbia County with Russ. Mac called him back.

“Sitting on the phone, were you?” Philly didn't wait for an answer. “We got an arrest warrant for Tyler Cohen since he didn't show up for his arraignment on that burglary charge. Russ and me got a little caper planned. Do you and Dana want in on it?”

“What's going down?”

“I got a lead from the kid's mother. Says he hangs out at the pool hall most weekends and in the afternoon after school. Not that the kid goes to school. Principal says he's skipped most of the school year. At any rate, he showed up at his parents' place last night to score some clean clothes and cash. Mommy fed him and did his laundry and after thinking things over, decided to call the police. Says she's hoping to get her son off the street before he lands in any more trouble. She's afraid his drug abuse is getting out of control, and she'd rather have him incarcerated and getting help with his addiction than out on the street getting bombed.”

“That's a tough call for a parent.”

“Well, at this point she thinks we just want to question him on the original burglary. I didn't tell her we were also wanting to question him on the arson/murder thing.”

“Okay. We want in on the bust and the questioning,” Mac told him. “We'll meet you in the parking lot at the St. Helens P.D. in about forty.”

On their way to rendezvous with Russ and Philly, Kevin called with news about Mason's polygraph. “He passed.”

“So one down,” Mac mused. Even though Mason had passed the polygraph examination, they wouldn't completely eliminate him as a suspect—at least not at this point. Now that they knew Clay had been killed with the ricin, Mason's alibi was worthless.

“The other breaking news is that Jan officially declared the fire an arson.”

“We knew that already.”

“Yes, but we needed the test results. The lab tests confirmed the evidence at the scene and the hits by the arson dog. We are looking at gasoline as the accelerant and the origin being at the back door like Jan suspected.”

“Anything new on the evidence we lifted from Shaw's office?” Mac asked.

“There isn't much of evidentiary value in the paper files. I'm making copies so the originals can be returned.”

Mac told Kevin about Allison's findings and said that they were headed out to meet the other detectives in hopes of rounding up Tyler Cohen.

“Looks like things are breaking up,” Kevin said. “Good luck and be careful. I'm praying for all of you.”

“Thanks, Kevin. We may need it.”

Mac and Dana caught the dynamic duo in the middle of lunch. Russ tilted his head back, dropping the contents of a large carton of fries into his mouth.

“Don't want to get your hands greasy, Russ?” Mac joked as he pulled alongside their car in the parking lot.

Russ looked like an opossum caught in the headlights, probably trying to figure out what rule of etiquette he may have broken. “It was the last couple of fries,” he explained. “I was just finishing up.”

“I can't do anything with him.” Philly shook his head, taking a handful of fries himself.

“What happened to your low-carb diet, Philly?” Dana teased.

“I'm still on it. See? I didn't super-size the order. Smaller portions cuts way back on my carb intake. Besides, I'm not eating the bun on my hamburger. Just the insides.”

“Gimme a break.” Russ shook his head. “You must have eaten a dozen donuts this week. If you call that a diet, you're nuts.”

“I wouldn't talk. Looks like you could use a little help in the diet department too, partner.” Philly pinched Russ's left love handle. Russ nearly climbed out the window to get away. “Any other comments from the peanut gallery?” Philly guffawed.

“Yeah, I want a new partner.” Russ actually looked offended.

“Nobody else would work with you, Russ. Now pipe down.” Philly gave Mac a “what-can-I-do-with-him?” look.

“So, what's the scoop on Cohen?” Dana asked. “Are we going to wait for him inside or sit surveillance on the place?”

“Neither. The mother has my cell number. She wanted to make sure the kid was okay, talk to him a little. You know—hug, kiss, bedtime story stuff. She's going to ask him to turn himself in. If he doesn't agree, she'll call me and we'll swoop in.”

“You don't want to get in a little closer?”

“Naw.” Philly picked at a tooth with a fingernail. “Too risky with this joint. The pool hall is more of an arcade and teen hangout. Anyone older than twenty will look out of place, and I don't want to spook him. Russ and I have been stomping around every railroad transient camp and swimming hole in the county looking for this joker; I don't want to waste any more time. Once Mama calls we can get a description of Tyler's duds and the direction he's taking. He doesn't have wheels at this point, so he'll most likely be walking. We should be able to pick him up without too many problems, assuming he doesn't get any funny ideas and he's not packing.”

“I'm confused,” Dana said. “Is Tyler at the arcade or at home? Where's his mom meeting him?”

“Tyler was at home, but he left. His mom expects him to come to the arcade. She's in there waiting for him and will try to get him to turn himself in. She'll call me if it doesn't work.”

“You can trust her?”

“I think she's on the up and up. If not we'll go to plan B.”

“Does Sergeant Evans know what we're up to?” Mac imagined Kevin would pass along the news but wanted to verify that Philly had contacted him.

“Yeah, he's up to speed. By the way, your guy Mason passed his polygraph.”

“Right. Kevin paged me on the way out here. Also, Jan ruled the fire at the house was definitely arson. You heard about the ricin, didn't you?”

Philly nodded and rubbed the stubble on his chin. “This caper just keeps getting better and better. I have to admit, though, ricin's a first for me. I've worked plenty of poisonings, but never that stuff. Russ and I were talking about it before you pulled up. My money's on the lawyer.”

“Which one?” Mac asked. “The daughter or Addison Shaw?”

“Shaw.” Philly pressed his lips together. “He's dirty. I just don't know how dirty.”

“You always think the lawyers are dirty,” Russ commented.

“Have I ever been wrong?” Philly raised an eyebrow.

Russ chuckled. “You have a point.” Looking in Mac's direction, he asked, “Any word on the stuff we hauled out of Shaw's place?”

“Nothing yet. We're hoping to hear something back on the computer files today.”

The detectives sat in the parking lot for nearly an hour making predictions and speculations before Philly's cell phone rang. All four of them sat up in their seats, suddenly alert and all business. Russ even straightened his tie.

Philly hit the green button on his hands-free cell phone, so they could all hear the caller.

“Detective Johnson.”

“Yes, Detective. This is Tina Cohen,” the woman answered, her voice cautious and shaky. “I met with my son and he . . . he didn't want to turn himself in. He said he might think about it, but he had some business to take care of first. He's afraid of having to do jail time. I tried to tell him it wouldn't be long and he needed to straighten up, but . . .”

“I'm sorry, Mrs. Cohen.” Philly sounded genuinely empathetic. “Can you tell me what your son is wearing?”

“Um—jeans and a black sweatshirt with a camouflage jacket. He also has on a yellow Pittsburgh Steelers cap.”

“Did he have any weapons on him or did he mention any?” Philly started the car.

“I don't think so. He carries a pocketknife, but no guns or anything. He's skin and bones right now, so I think I'd see anything in his pockets or on his hip.”

“Which way was he walking when he left the pool hall?”

“Toward Highway 30. I can still see him. He's almost to the tracks.”

“Great. Thanks, Mrs. Cohen. We'll exercise due caution and take him in now. I'll be in contact with you. And Mrs. Cohen?”

“Yes.”

“You're doing the right thing.”

“I hope so.”

Philly ended the call. “He's walking toward the tracks. I assume you two know what he looks like.”

“Yeah,” Dana replied. “Sounds like he's wearing the same clothes as the night we apprehended him.”

“Okay, let's do this.” Philly pulled out and headed toward the highway.

Mac spotted Cohen ambling along the highway, head down and hands in his pockets. Philly pulled up past Tyler and parked the car on the shoulder. Mac and Dana came in behind him, skidding to a stop on the asphalt before exiting their car.

“Hold it right there, buddy,” Philly yelled to him. “State Police, get down on your knees.”

Cohen looked past Philly and Russ, then to his right, looking for an escape route. Philly recognized the ten-mile stare, giving him a second warning. “Get down on the ground. Don't make me put hands on you, son.”

Cohen took two steps backward, then spun around. Seeing Mac and Dana, he stopped cold.

Mac and Dana fanned out to block his path. Tyler hesitated briefly to weigh his options, then he put his hands in the air and dropped to his knees.

“Down on your belly,” Dana yelled, keeping her right hand on her expandable baton. “Now bring your hands out, palms up. And look away from me!”

“I'm not going anywhere,” Cohen yelled back. “Don't let her hit me with that thing!”

Philly winked at Dana as he approached Cohen. “So you've met Detective Bennett before?” He handcuffed Tyler and helped him to his feet. “You're under arrest on authority of a Fail to Appear bench warrant issued by Columbia County. Do you understand that?”

“Yeah, I understand. Just keep her away from me.”

“Her? As in this lovely young female detective?” Philly asked, trying to look serious.

“Why did you think I stopped? I knew I could smoke you two. But not her.”

“What do you mean?” Philly growled. “I would have had you in ten steps.”

Cohen looked Philly up and down. “Yeah, I'll bet.”

“Any more comments?” Philly cinched the cuffs a little tighter, maybe a little too tight, before double-locking them. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.” Philly finished the Miranda rights as he walked Tyler to the police car. “You understand these rights, Carl Lewis?”

“Who's Carl Lewis?”

“You know, the Olympic sprinter who won all the gold medals in the eighties.”

“I must have missed that one. I didn't watch too much television when I was learning to crawl,” Cohen sneered.

“He was one of the fastest guys in the world.”

Philly opted to let Mac and Dana handle Cohen's interview while he and Russ headed back over to search Cohen's place while the boy's parents were still cooperating.

“Okay,Tyler. Looks like you'll be coming with us,” Mac said.

“We're going to run you over to the district attorney's office and have ourselves a little chat before we go by the jail.” Dana's tone was warm and friendly. “Are you okay with that?”

“As long as you keep that stick away from me.”

Dana smiled. “Sure. Just don't try any funny stuff.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Here, let me loosen those cuffs for you.” Dana adjusted the cuffs before guiding Tyler into the backseat of the car.

“Thanks, I appreciate that. I like you a lot better when you're not hitting me.”

“Thank you, Tyler.” Dana's dimples deepened. “How about we start all over. You know there's more to that story. I seem to remember a garbage can lid and a foot chase through the dark after one of us was caught committing a felony.”

Mac and Dana transported Tyler back to the same interview room they'd used the first time they'd arrested him. They offered him a soda and moved his cuffs to the front so he'd be more comfortable. After the formalities, Mac began to question Cohen about his whereabouts during the past few days and went over some of the same questions that were covered during the first interview, specifically the insulin kit he had stolen from the house. Cohen's story remained consistent on the burglary. He admitted to being a user. “I was just doing pot at first and then my buddies scored some heroin. We got a steady supply and, man, I tried to quit a couple of times, but . . . it ain't that simple.”