Terry Odell - Mapleton 03 - Deadly Puzzles (24 page)

Gordon reached for a pen.
“Go.”

“
The rental came back to an Enterprise outlet in Montrose. Car was rented to an Orrin Wardell. That was your guy, right?”

“
Yeah. You get the address he used when he rented the vehicle?”

Harris read off a New Mexico address. Gordon rummaged through his paperwork, looking for the address he had. No, Solomon had. He
’d given him the note when this was all an “interesting if you have spare time” project.

“
And you think this guy is the one who broke into the apartment in Mapleton?” Harris asked.

“
Looking more and more like it, although I can’t figure out why,” Gordon said.

“
Have fun. We’ll be looking for him, too. Sophie’s still on his trail. Or, more accurately, she’s tracking whoever was in the car. I’ll let you know what we find.”

Gordon called Tessa and told her to upgrade her notice to Solomon to ASAP.
“Not a Code Three, but have him get here whenever he finishes the call he’s on.”

“
Roger, Chief. He should be wrapping things up.”

Gordon went to the white board, removed all the notes and wiped it clean. Solomon barged in seconds later.
“You wanted to see me, Chief?” He paused, stared at the empty board. “You solved it?”

Gordon snorted.
“Not hardly. Starting over with some new developments. I need that address I gave you for Orrin Wardell. In New Mexico.”

“
On it.” Solomon dashed out of the office like a dog hot on a scent.

Gordon drew a horizontal timeline a third of the way up the board. He considered the pickup truck accident, and decided it, thank goodness, was a separate case. But everything else might be connected.

Where had things begun?

Solomon came back with the
address.

“
Let’s leave that for a few minutes,” Gordon said. He laid out his assumption that they could skip the pickup truck accident. “Wardell was with me when it went down, and I can’t see him as a sniper.”

Solomon looked almost disappointed that he couldn
’t use his serial killer angle, but agreed that it was likely a separate case.

“
Let’s recap,” Gordon said. “Make sure we’re on the same page.”

“
Or white board, as the case may be,” Solomon added.

Gordon grimaced.
“On task, please. Technically, only the false alarm and break-in are within our jurisdiction, but we’ve got interdepartmental cooperation and sharing is more effective than compartmentalizing. Let’s start with the players.”

On the far side of the white board, Gordon listed names. The uncle in Telluride, Wardell, and everyone else at the B and B, including the Yardumians.

“You think that blogger lady and the mountain man are back in it? Or the artist?” Solomon asked.

“
No, but I want their names where I can see them.” He added “B and B Reservation?” next to Nick Metcalf’s name. “Not sure whether this means anything. Guy could have been mistaken, but he might have been lying. And if he was, the
why
behind the lie might give us something. But it’s low priority now.”

Gordon added Roni
’s name as well. “She might be dead, but she’s still running around in Wardell’s head, so I don’t want to forget her.”

“
There’s the guy who died in the fire.”

“
Right.” Gordon added Jase Blackhawk’s name to the board.

“
Motives?” Solomon asked.

“
Let’s get a timeline first,” Gordon said. “Wardell’s accident and the uncle’s homicide are at the beginning. Do we have any more information about when the uncle died?”

“
On it.” Solomon sat in Gordon’s chair and picked up the phone.

“
While you’re making calls,” Gordon said, “see if you can get everyone to send us whatever they have to date. No point in us spending time hunting down information someone could give us.”

Solomon nodded, grabbed a pen and notepad.

Laurie popped her head in. “Sorry to bother you, but your line’s busy. Special meeting of the Town Council at ten-thirty. Your attendance is
requested
.”

Which made it an order.
“Concerning?”

“
My guess is the recent crime wave,” she said.

Right. First the capture of the ATM scammer, although he hadn
’t had a chance to commit his crime before he was apprehended. Gordon assumed his summons was about someone setting a false alarm
and
breaking into an apartment. Two crimes within minutes of each other. Never mind they were the same crime, and nobody’d been hurt, no damage done, and the value of the missing property was minimal. And, they’d recovered most of it. Which he’d left in his vehicle outside.

“
You can confirm my attendance,” Gordon said. “But if you can find out the agenda, I’ll know how to prepare.”

“
I’ll give it a shot,” she said, closing the door behind her.

Gordon dashed out the back and grabbed the bags, setting them beside his desk. Better get these logged in.

Solomon hung up. “Town Council, huh? They didn’t call any special meetings while
I
was acting chief.”

Gordon scowled.
“That’s because I had everything all neat and tidy for you before I left. Find out anything?”

Solomon hung up the phone.
“Time of death for the uncle is approximate. No heat in the house, kept the decomp slow. No smell to alert the neighbors. They’re ballparking it Monday before last.” He stepped to the white board and drew a diagonal line near the beginning of the timeline, adding the information.

“
If so, then that’s the day
before
Wardell showed up at the B and B.”

“
Which means he’s a person of interest in the homicide,” Solomon said. “I’ll give everyone else a call, see if they’ll send the records over, or give me log-ins so I can poke around myself.”

Gordon knew Solomon would prefer the latter option, but he reminded his officer that having everything in one place would streamline data collection.

His intercom buzzed. Gordon stepped behind Solomon to answer.

“
Bring your budget figures,” Laurie told him.

Great
. Were they going to cut more, or was there a glimmer of hope that they might be finding extra money for law enforcement? After all, Mapleton was in the midst of a crime wave. “Got it,” he said.

“
You can carry on at your desk,” Gordon told Solomon. “I have to play number cruncher for a bit. However,” he added with a smirk, “I’m going to make sure Tessa knows you’re still on call.”

Solomon grinned.
“Hey, I know. Mapleton first, puzzles second. Even if it’s a Mapleton puzzle. I’ve got my priorities straight.”

Gordon shook his head in amusement as Solomon strode out of the office. And thanked whatever stars, or gods, or fates had given Mapleton an officer as dedicated as Ed Solomon. The man lived for the job, and the more curves you threw at him, the better he seemed to like it.

~~~

Almost two hours later, Gordon trudged into his office. He didn
’t know whether to curse or thank whichever council member had convinced the mayor it was worth an emergency session to put Gordon on the spot. He wondered if there were still members who wanted him out. He’d run through the progress they’d made on the investigation, praised the rapid response of the firefighters and medics. Assured the council it was not the beginning of a crime spree, that the Mapleton they all served was still a safe, quiet place to live.

Despite the unscheduled meeting, apparently there were more members who thought he was doing a decent job, since the council had spent more time listening to his ideas of what to do, rather than telling him how
they
thought a police force should be run, the way the last council had. As usual, everyone had to put in their own opinions, which ate up time, but in the end, when they’d all had their say, they’d agreed to look at his budget suggestions and take them into consideration the next time the budget committee met.

But, time spent playing politics meant that much less time trying to solve his current problem. He
’d called Daily Bread for a takeout lunch, picked it up on the fly, and was ready to spend some quality time with his computer. He checked in with Laurie first.

“
Solomon’s in your office. Got here about fifteen minutes ago,” she said. “I didn’t think you’d mind.”

“
No, we’re working on something.”

When Gordon opened the door to his office, Solomon was standing at the white board. He
’d filled in some timeline items, stuck pictures and notes up, and was tossing a marker in his hand.

“
Looks like you’ve been working.” Gordon set his lunch on the desk, opened the bag and pulled out his roast beef sandwich. “Fill me in.” He took a huge bite of the sandwich and perused Solomon’s additions to the board. He pointed. Swallowed. “The line connecting Wardell and Jase Blackhawk. Why?”

Solomon turned, his expression half pride, half gloat.
“Because I’m a damn good cop.”

“
Never said you weren’t. Consider yourself patted on the back. Report.”

“
The New Mexico address you had me check. Wardell. Something rang a bell. It came up during the fire investigation. And you’re going to love the next bit.”

Gordon set the sandwich aside. If he didn
’t know Solomon’s sense of humor never intruded into the facts of a case, he’d have laughed. “Tell me.”

“
The address goes to an institutional complex. Years ago, it would have been called an insane asylum, or a loony bin. I think today’s PC terminology is closer to a residential mental health facility. Bottom line, both these guys had a couple of screws loose. Wardell’s been in and out half a dozen times. Wish I knew more, but HIPAA’s privacy laws are a bitch. And, I’m ashamed to say, I don’t have any contacts in New Mexico who could help with the red tape. I’m waiting for the locals.”

“
You’re sure Wardell and Jase Blackhawk were … residents? Didn’t work there?” Gordon asked.

“
I’m sure. First, if they worked there, odds are they lived somewhere else. It’s possible, of course, that the facility provides some kind of housing for employees, but that’s a stretch.” Solomon smirked. “Also, the privacy laws don’t extend to personnel, so being the top investigator I am, I also confirmed neither man worked there.”

“
So, what does this mean?”

“
Damned if I know,” Solomon said. “But if this one’s a coincidence, I’ll buy your cinnamon rolls for a month. There’s a connection. All we have to do is find it.”

Solomon pursed his lips in and out a few times. Stepped to the white board. Wrote
FIRES
. “We have both men at the B and B. It’s possible they were both there at the same time.”

“
But Wardell leaves, goes and rents a car. Says he’s going to Telluride to see his uncle, wait for his wife, who doesn’t exist. If he killed his uncle before he came to the Yardumians’, Jase Blackhawk might have been with him.”

“
We also have two fire-related events,” Solomon said. “One was a false alarm, one ended up killing someone.”

“
We’ve been assuming Blackhawk was the cause of the first, and he died by accident. Are you suggesting that Wardell came back, set the fire to get rid of him? Why?”

“
Maybe Blackhawk knew Wardell killed his uncle. Threatened to go to the cops. Or maybe there’s absolutely nothing to connect them. Could Wardell have made it from the rental agency to the B and B in time to set the fire?”

Gordon thought it over.
“I doubt it. I dropped him off, came straight back. The rentalpaperwork alone would have given me at least a fifteen minute head start. There aren’t any shortcuts. It’s the highway or nothing. I’d have noticed someone speeding past me.”

“
Okay, then Wardell is out as the firebug, and it went down the way the arson investigator said it did. The guy got drunk, careless, and
whoosh
. Krispy Critter.”

Gordon grimaced.

Solomon raised his hand. “Sorry. Forgot you were in there, too.”

“
Makes more sense,” Solomon continued. “There was nothing to indicate Wardell was trying to start a fire at Daily Bread. Just wanted a way to break in to Angie’s. We don’t have a motive for that yet.”

“
We still need more on the connection between Wardell and Blackhawk. I’ll see if I can get Blackhawk’s next of kin information from the hospital. They might be able to shed some light on Wardell.”

“
I could do it,” Solomon said.

“
This is one place where I’ve already made some contacts. Why don’t you do some of your poking. If Wardell abandoned the car, maybe he’s on a bus or plane to New Mexico. Or maybe he’s going to the Colorado address we got from the first car. Castle Rock, I think it was.” Gordon reached for the paperwork he’d accumulated, leafed through it, found the paper and handed it to Solomon.

“
I’ll see what I can do. You want me to drive out there?” Solomon asked.

“
Not in our budget. Ask the locals to check.”

Solomon left, and Gordon looked at the folder, filled with printouts of forms, reports, and various scraps of paper. Now that things were connecting, he needed to organize the information they
’d accumulated. He started sorting things into piles on his credenza.

Laurie
’s buzz interrupted. “Trooper Harris is on line one.”

Gordon punched the button on his phone.
“Hepler.”

“
Near as we can figure, the driver of the vehicle went down, buried the stuff, then climbed up and got into another vehicle. We called Sophie off. I’ve got a BOLO out, but we don’t have much of a description. If we were looking for a murderer, or someone who’d committed a major crime, we might pursue it further, but for now, he’s in the wind.”

“
Actually … he might be a murderer,” Gordon said. He ran through the homicide in Telluride. “Can’t rule him out as a suspect. According to my timeline, he had opportunity.”

“
Damn, this is getting convoluted. I’ll fill Telluride in.”

“
Convoluted doesn’t begin to describe this. I can get you a shot from the surveillance video at Finnegan’s,” Gordon said. “And some we’ve grabbed off the Internet, but I’ve got a feeling he’s changed his appearance again. Maybe I can work with a sketch artist. I’m pretty sure the man I saw at the Yardumians’ was the unedited version.”

“
Anything will help. And who knows? Maybe the guy will do something stupid. He’s using his own ID, right?”

“
I assume so. The rental car was in his name. They’re picky when it comes to seeing a driver’s license.” Gordon added the connection to the fire victim at the Yardumians’. “We’re following that as a potential lead.”

“
All right, we’ll step up the effort to locate Orrin Wardell. I’ll let the county people know, too.”

“
Sounds good.” Gordon hung up and returned to his piles of paper, then set about piecing together bios for all the major players. He figured he might get a more honest picture of Wardell from Jase Blackhawk’s family, assuming they knew him. Usually, immediate family saw nothing but the good in their offspring. Once he had another point of view, he’d try to track down Wardell’s family and compare notes.

He found the printout from the CBI and called the investigator, and explained why he wanted a contact number for Blackhawk
’s family. It took a little verbal tap dancing, but Gordon got the mother’s number, promising to relay anything he found to the CBI.

He took a breath and punched in the number. A woman answered, and Gordon introduced himself.
“I’m sorry for your loss, Mrs. Blackhawk, but it would help us a great deal if you could answer a couple of questions. Would you happen to know whether your son was acquainted with an Orrin Wardell?”

“
Orrin Wardell?” she said. “Lordy me, I haven’t heard that name in donkey’s years. Did something happen to him, too?”

Gordon started taking notes.
“So you do know him?”

“
Can’t say I
know
him. Or even
knew
him. Not like what you’re probably asking, like did I know his family, or what kind of a person was he. Met him a couple of times after the accident. Right shook up, he was. Full of guilt, kept saying it should have been him. Tried to tell him I felt him no ill will. He showed up at the hospital every day at first. Then he stopped coming, and I put it out of my mind. Wasn’t like I
knew
him, like I said. Had enough to deal with trying to keep my boy’s spirits up.”

She paused, as if collecting her thoughts. Gordon waited for her to continue.

“It pains me to say this, being his mother and all, but at some point you draw the line. Now, if he’d come home, been willing to get help, I’d have taken him in, you can bet on that. But he wanted nothing to do with me, his pa, or any of us. I had three other kids to deal with, two jobs to work to pay medical bills. They say alcoholics run in families, and his pa took to the bottle, heavy-like, after the accident. Marriage went to hell after that. So, it weren’t any big surprise my boy turned to the booze, too. In his blood, I reckon.”

As she spoke, Gordon frantically searched the papers for any further background information on Jase Blackhawk. Where was that newspaper article Solomon had talked about? Had he even given a copy to Gordon? Apparently not. Even without it, Gordon was fairly certain he knew the answer to his next question, but he asked it anyway.

“Mrs. Blackhawk. What was this accident?”

A pause.
“I thought you knew. Happened when they was fraternity brothers in college. My boy was driving Orrin’s girlfriend home when a drunk driver hit them.”