Crisis Shot Page 13

  She paused, not because she thought Glen would have stopped here, but because of the broken key chain. If they were handed out like candy, like Gabe said, it might not be much of a clue. But right now, it was on the short list of what they did have.

  She kept walking, mentally making a note to stop back at some point. A craft store came next, quilts, yarn, threads. Tess went inside to ask, but the two old women working had not seen Glen.

  The following business was the second biggest in town next to Wild Automotive: RR Bakery and Confections. The aroma here rivaled the coffee shop’s. They mostly sold commercially and supplied restaurants all over the valley with fresh, organic baked goods. Pete got his bagels and pastries from RR. Tess had eaten a few tasty things and had to admit that before RR she’d always thought organic baked goods equaled cardboard. The stuff RR sold was great.

  The retail portion sold a lot of day-old stuff, some fresh, but Tess had learned you had to be an early bird because they ran out of fresh-baked items fast. She had no luck in the bakery; no one remembered seeing Glen. This side of the street ended with a large parking lot for bakery trucks, and then Hollow Drive jogged to the right and became Midas Drive as it ran along the creek for a bit.

  Across the street from the bakery, on the corner of Midas and Hollow, was Rogue’s Grocery, a small market, and next door, what would have been only a food truck in California. But this place, Max’s Grill, was stationary; the wheels were gone. Max, the owner, barbecued and grilled ribs, chicken, and occasionally fish. People walked up to the window to order and ate at outside tables that faced Midas Creek. There was an area that could be shielded from the elements between the truck and the market, but Tess knew people generally preferred eating outside when weather permitted. She crossed the street and started with the food truck.

  “Chief, you here to eat?” Max asked, peering at her from the order window.

  Tess had eaten there once or twice. Everything was good. Because of her light breakfast her stomach growled as the smell of grilling food assaulted her nostrils, but she wasn’t ready to stop her progress through town.

  “Not right now, Max. I had a couple of questions for you.”

  Max was no help. Tourist traffic had kept him busy lately and he’d not seen Glen. He did know Glen, though.

  “He looks after Tilly,” Max said. “I like that. I knew Tilly’s dad. It would break his heart to see her like she is now.” He shook his head. “But it would also comfort him to know that she had someone like Glen to look after her. I sometimes give them free burgers if they show up at closing. I was sorry to hear about him being killed. Hope you find the guy who did it.”

  “Thanks, and I will.”

  Tess continued into the market. She knew the manager was related to the mayor; they’d been introduced at her swearing in. Roger Dixon didn’t look anything like his brother. He was tall and lean, reminding Tess of an officer she used to work with who was crazy for marathons, had competed all over the world, and had the gaunt build of a long-distance runner. That was Roger Dixon, only the store manager had a little more panache.

  Rico Suave came to mind, a term often used by officers she worked with to peg a guy who thought he was too good, too cool, for the cops to mess with. Roger Dixon dressed like a male model, expensive-looking clothes, tidy and perfectly pressed. His light-brown hair well groomed.

  His wife, a member of the quilting club that met at the inn, likewise was always dressed impeccably. That was a little out of the ordinary. Tess had found Oregon to be a lot more casual than California, something she didn’t mind. She was more comfortable in jeans than a skirt or a suit. Most of Tess’s formal clothes, usually only donned for court, were still in storage. Even Mayor Dixon, an accountant besides being mayor, was never as dressed up as his brother, the dapper grocery store manager. The disparity between the two men made Tess wonder if one or both of them were adopted.

  It was loud when you first walked into the store. The front corner was dedicated to video games and housed a mini arcade. Tess remembered that at her swearing in, Roger Dixon’s wife, Helen, who was quite a bit older than he was, had bragged to her about the arcade supported by the market.

  “We want to keep children from mischief, don’t we?” she’d said. “Roger and I provide a safe place for them to interact.”

  Tess had thought that arcades and video games were passé, what with cell phones and PlayStations, but you’d never know that by the crowds of kids usually packed in here. Today was no different; there certainly were a lot of kids playing games in the arcade. Briefly Tess realized that while she might have seen Kayla Reno here, she didn’t recall ever seeing Duncan Peabody. That kid definitely needed a different hobby.

  She looked around the small market and saw Roger Dixon immediately. Pressed slacks and a button-down shirt covered by a vest, hair neat and held that way with a light gel, chiseled facial features, this Dixon could be on a magazine cover. He was talking to a couple of giggling girls who looked to be high school age. She caught his eye.

  “Chief, are you looking for me?” Dixon said good-bye to the girls, who disappeared down an aisle. Then he smiled and walked her way, hard soles clicking on the linoleum.

  He was so different from his brother.

  “Mr. Dixon, I was wondering if I could ask you a couple of questions.”

  “It’s Roger, and what can I help you with?”

  “We had an incident yesterday—a man was murdered.”

  “Glen Elders, I heard.”

  “Did you know Elders?”

  He nodded. “Oh yes, I knew him. I threw him out of here for shoplifting a while ago. I didn’t file a police report.” He hiked one shoulder. “I figured he got the message.”

  “Had you seen him lately?”

  “A few days ago, I think. He was walking toward Charlie’s. I didn’t see him go in; I just noticed him walking that direction.”

  “Do you remember exactly what day that was?”

  “Sorry, no.” He gave her a sympathetic look. “Days run together when you’re working, you know?”

  “Yeah, I do. Thanks.” She turned to go.

  “A horrible thing, this murder. Do you have any leads? Any idea who would do such a thing? Or is it difficult because you’re not from around here?”

  She held his gaze for a moment while an unpleasant feeling rippled through her. Even though there was nothing in his demeanor that said it, he was mocking her.

  “Murder is a horrible thing, and yes, I have every confidence we’ll solve it.”

  “Good. I’m just concerned it will be difficult to solve because you’re an outsider—a qualified one, but still an outsider.”

  “I’ll manage fine, Mr. Dixon. Thanks again for your help.”

  Tess left the market frowning, wondering at the strange vibe she’d gotten from Dixon. He’d been nothing but cordial to her, and his wife was very nice. Maybe it was just the fact he was the mayor’s brother that gave her the bad feeling.

  The local hair salon didn’t look like a place Glen would stop. It wasn’t. The women inside, though they cut men’s hair as well as women’s, hadn’t seen Glen lately.

  She stopped at each remaining business and asked about Glen. Two other people saw him, but one wasn’t certain what day, and the other said the same thing Casey and Dixon had said: maybe he was heading to Charlie’s.

  At the end of the paved portion of Midas Drive was Rogue’s Hollow’s only bar, The Stump. It was closed and was likely that way when Glen had walked by. It didn’t open until two in the afternoon.

  She had to backtrack to cross Midas Creek and visit Charlie’s. Before she turned around, she realized Glen could have taken a hiking path from just above The Stump here that would have eventually led to the area along the creek where he’d been found. The drive she’d taken to the spot the day his body was found was quicker than the hike, but Glen was without his Jeep.

  Did he take the path before he got to Charlie’s or after visiting there? The ti
me gap bugged her. No one so far had remembered seeing him after the weekend when he dropped money off for Tilly at the Hollow Grind.

  Tess paused for a moment, writing some notes before she continued down the road, then up and over the bridge to the B and B. She noticed a thin, dirty man off to the left of the Victorian’s front steps. He was smoking a cigarette and eyeballing her in a way that made her Spidey sense tingle. She’d seen him before, at the trailer park, she thought. He did landscaping and handyman work if she remembered correctly. Tess looked at him out of habit, prepared to say hello, but he turned away to walk down the steps toward the river. Odd, but not unheard of. She knew the police uniform made people nervous, often for no reason at all, but she filed a reminder to herself to find out who the man was and verify what he did for a living.

  She climbed the stairs and noticed the charmingly decorated porch. There was a swinging bench that faced the confluence of the Rogue River and Midas Creek, and beautiful needlepoint pillows. The vases were empty, though, and Tess wondered about that. She’d seen Charlotte more than once at the growers’ market buying flowers.

  She opened the front door to the B and B, thinking she’d see Charlotte, but instead, behind the counter was Cole. He was conversing with a man Tess recognized as Beto Acosta, owner of PSS. The conversation stopped and both men turned toward her when she walked inside.

  “Chief.” Markarov held his hands up in mock surprise. “You found the bodies, and I hid them so well.” Markarov was a tall man with a head of thick dark hair that Tess was certain he dyed. He had the build of a onetime athlete—maybe baseball, possibly basketball—who’d quit playing and let himself go soft.

  Acosta laughed too hard at the unfunny joke. Tess managed a smile, thinking maybe the phrase was from a movie but she couldn’t recall the name. Her contact with Cole had been limited. He hadn’t shown up at her swearing in, and the sting from the interview had dulled, so she tried not to proceed expecting him to be unpleasant.

  “Mr. Markarov, Mr. Acosta, good morning.”

  They both said good morning and then Acosta slapped both hands down on the counter.

  “Chief, have you given any thought to that security upgrade I was telling you about?” Acosta asked. Originally from New York, his accent was thick. He reminded Tess of an uncle she had who still lived in New York. He looked more like he could be Roger Dixon’s brother than Doug Dixon. Though he had a darker complexion, he was tall and lean, always dressed professionally, with a strong jaw and dark eyes. The only glaring difference between him and Rico Suave was that his hairline was receding and most of it was graying.

  “Sorry; you’ll really have to bring that up with Mayor Dixon.”

  He gave a half nod. “Of course. But it would help me if you put in a good word.” His lips curled into an oily smile.

  “I’ll look into the system you suggested.”

  “That’s all I ask. Well, I’ve got to get back to my business. Cole, see you later.” He nodded at Tess and started to leave, then stopped. “Unless of course you need to speak to me?” He pointed at his chest with his thumb.

  Tess might, at one point, talk to him about the key chain, but she didn’t want to talk to them both at the same time.

  “Not right this minute. I came to speak to Mr. Markarov. You’ll be at your office later?”

  “All day. See you then. Ciao.” With that he left the B and B.

  “And how can I help the young lady today?” Markarov asked as the front door closed.

  Ignoring the odd comment, Tess determined not to be thrown off her game. “I have a couple questions for you. I’m trying to figure out where someone was last week, Thursday specifically. Were you behind the desk then?”

  “Thursday? I have to say I was. That was the day the little woman left for Portland. She’ll be back tomorrow. Until then I’m the chief cook and bottle washer.”

  “Did Glen Elders come in here that day? Has he registered for a room?”

  He scrunched his brows together. “Why no, I haven’t seen Glen in quite some time. He wouldn’t come here for a room. Our rates are far above his pay grade. What’s he gotten himself into this time?”

  Tess frowned. The way Casey had talked . . . “I was under the impression Glen was your friend.”

  “I don’t know what gave you that impression. Yes, I hire him from time to time for grunt work. That’s it.”

  She considered this for a moment, then said, “He was murdered yesterday.”

  That seemed to shock him. But something ruffled Tess. His response appeared almost practiced, as if he was waiting for someone to give him this news so he could act surprised.

  “A murder? Here in Rogue’s Hollow?” He shook his head. “I hate to say it, but I thought this would happen.”

  “What, you thought Glen would be murdered?”

  “Not him specifically, but I saw this crime spree coming. No disrespect, Chief, but I feared the appointment of a woman as chief of police would embolden the criminal element in the valley. They just aren’t inclined to fear that you will be a force to be reckoned with.” His weak smile was insincere, and Tess felt the hair stand up on the back of her neck as she fought to keep her expression blank.

  “Well, if that’s true, they’re mistaken. They’ll find I’m as serious about law enforcement as any man.” She turned to leave.

  “Maybe so, but that’d be too late for poor Glen, wouldn’t it?”

  21

  Rule # 5: “Don’t step on anyone’s macho.”

  Tess didn’t believe she’d done anything to step on Markarov’s macho, yet he was quite the jerk. Checking her temper, grateful she had a walk to cool off, she left the B and B and started back to her office to view the contents of Glen’s saddlebag.

  Cole Markarov was everything she’d been told he was, she thought as she walked. He’d so thrown her off her game she’d forgotten to ask about the thin man she’d seen on his property. As far as police work went, Tess felt fortunate that such blatant chauvinism was relatively rare. Women older than she was had worked a lot of the kinks out of law enforcement before her time. True, there’d been bumps along the way she’d had to deal with, being a woman in uniform—guys who would ignore her and talk only to the male partner, female servers in restaurants who were so intent on flirting with the male officer, they’d never get her order right.

  The only blatant episode she’d ever dealt with had happened when she was a rookie. She and her training partner stopped a man who turned out to have several warrants totaling bail of over a hundred thousand dollars. The man had been acting macho, ignoring Tess, and being generally disrespectful. When the dispatcher gave them the information that their subject was 10-29 Frank—that he had felony warrants—her training officer gave her the nod to make the arrest.

  Tess was confident in her weaponless defense skills, and there was no little satisfaction when the man resisted and she took him to the ground with a picture-perfect takedown move. Seconds later he was in cuffs and barely knew what had hit him. Her training officer beamed, and Tess got perfect marks that day. And the incident led to her to pen rule #5. If it was possible to avoid a confrontation, she was all for it. She’d have to find a way to get the same satisfaction from that jerk Markarov.

  Once back in her office, she’d cooled off considerably. Tess tried to push Cole out of her head. She smiled and said hello to Sheila, the PD’s civilian clerk, and Gwen, clerk for the city of Rogue’s Hollow. They were cross-trained and each did both jobs well. The third civilian Tess supervised was Martha, a code enforcement officer. Her duty shift was twenty hours a week with Fridays off.

  On the board outside her office were the names of the officers on duty. There was also a new BOLO for a runaway teenage girl from Ashland. And she noticed another job bulletin, this one from Grants Pass, advertising the need for lateral applicants for the PD. She left it, vowing not to let that get under her skin.

  Day shift today was Bender. Curtis Pounder was also on duty, but it was a
short day for the sergeant. She saw that Bender was on a disturbing-the-peace call in the trailer park, and Curtis was on a break.

  She logged on to the computer and read an e-mail from Bender. It documented everything he’d sent to Salem for analysis. Tess considered it for a moment and wondered if she’d made any headway with the man after his little outburst. He’d been extremely professional yesterday and she was pleased with that. She didn’t need her people to be her friends, but she did need them to do their jobs. If that was all she got out of Bender, she’d be satisfied. He was a good cop; she’d hate to see him go if he did get offered a job elsewhere.

  He noted in the e-mail that he wasn’t sure when they would hear back on anything.

  Once the rest of her e-mails were read, she emptied the contents of the bag from Glen’s car onto her desk. She listened to the police radio as she multitasked, hearing Curtis finish his break and go back into service. A short time later both he and Bender responded to a dispute between fishermen. Just a normal day in Rogue’s Hollow.

  She concentrated on the contents of the messenger bag. There wasn’t much: a set of keys, some pennies, a bag of chips, a bag of M&M’S, and pieces of what she decided was a note, ripped up and crumpled. Nothing legible.

  She pulled the evidence envelope that held all the items recovered from Elders’s person and added these new items.

  No great leads here. No indication of where he got the money, or who else might have been with him when he was killed. Tilly was at the top of the list, but suppose it was someone else?

  Tess’s stomach rolled unpleasantly when another name came to mind: Anna.

  She felt in her bones that Anna’s disappearance was somehow tied to Glen’s murder, but the why escaped her.