Crisis Shot Page 18

  28

  “One of the last calls Glen made was to your wife’s cell phone.” Tess noted the cell towers used. She knew the basics of cell phone triangulation because of the system cell phone companies developed for 911 dispatchers. Multiple towers are used to track the phone’s location by measuring the time delay that a signal takes to return back to the towers. The delay is calculated into distance and gives a fairly accurate location of the phone. There wasn’t a tower in Rogue’s Hollow. Calls made in this town generally pinged off a tower on Crowfoot or one in Shady Cove. There was also a tower in Butte Falls, and that was where Anna’s phone was identified as being. It looked like Anna was in Butte Falls when she talked to Glen, and Glen was here in Rogue’s Hollow.

  Oliver looked thoughtful. She saw his throat work as he swallowed.

  “Can you tell if she answered or not?”

  Tess nodded. “The call lasted fifteen minutes. It’s the last call showing on your wife’s phone record, but there are three more on Glen’s phone.” She highlighted the calls and showed them to the pastor. “Do you recognize any of the numbers?”

  Oliver took the sheet from her and studied the numbers. “One is to Octavio—at least that’s the number for the Butte Falls church. The others I don’t recognize.” He handed it back.

  Tess dialed the unknown numbers and got a “number not in service” recording for one. When she dialed the other, she got the recording for the PSS business office.

  “What?” She stared at the phone and saw Oliver staring at her.

  “He called PSS. What on earth would a homeless man need with a security system?” Tess left a message for Beto Acosta, asking for a call back.

  She checked the time and date on the phone calls. Based on what Casey had said about Anna being in her shop, and the time Octavio had given for Anna’s arrival at the church, Anna probably talked to Glen while she drove to Butte Falls. Tess wished she could know what the conversation was about. One missing, one dead—that phone call might just tell a tale.

  She studied Oliver. He seemed defeated and deflated but determined to soldier on. Tess felt a twinge in her own gut as his pain radiated to her. The odds that his wife was still alive were not good. But she would not say that to him.

  Bringing her hands together, she tapped her fingertips and asked, “What do you think they talked about?”

  “Glen’s salvation. I’m sure of it.” He seemed to get a second wind and stood to pace. “Glen probably told her he was ready to change his life.”

  “Why wouldn’t he have told her that when he gave her the money? And maybe where the money came from?”

  “I can’t know for certain, but at that point Anna might not have believed him and instead called the police.”

  “Why?”

  “One time a few years ago, Glen told us he’d changed. We believed him and let him come stay with us.” He shook his head.

  “It was a mistake?”

  “A big one. Turned out he only needed money. We don’t have much of value now, and we didn’t then, but Anna had a ring her mother had given her and an expensive guitar. Glen stole them both and pawned them. We never got either back and learned our lesson. Trust but verify.” He flashed a wry, sad smile.

  “A good rule.”

  Oliver continued. “Anna probably wanted to talk to Octavio, see what he thought, determine if the conversion was real this time.”

  “When we talked to him yesterday, he seemed to think Glen was telling the truth. And I suppose him giving you all that money . . .”

  Since Tess was just about certain Glen was killed because of the money, it followed that he’d obviously gotten ahold of it illegally and wanted to come clean, which was why he gave it to his cousin. Did that gesture seal her fate?

  Tess fought a shudder. If Glen was dead because of the money, it’s possible Anna was also dead because of the money. She wasn’t ready to voice that thought to Oliver.

  “We’ll give him the benefit of the doubt,” she said. “He was trying to turn over a new leaf. But it had to be other people’s money he gave you, and they could not have been happy about it. Glen should have known something bad would happen because of what he did.”

  “I’ve wondered about that. Do you think that if we’d found him sooner, maybe . . . ? Well, I mean we could have . . .”

  “Prevented what happened?” She frowned and shook her head. “If it was the money that got Glen killed, he made the choice to take it. That’s on him, not you.”

  Oliver was quiet for a moment. “Are you certain the money is what got Glen killed?” he finally asked.

  “Not 100 percent. But right now, it’s a logical supposition. I’m thinking he was confronted by the man he stole from. Glen no longer had the money, couldn’t give it back, and that got him killed. Next, your home was broken into and ransacked. Someone wanted their money back.” Maybe that’s what happened to Anna. She also ran afoul of the person who wanted his money back, she thought but didn’t say.

  Oliver looked at her, an odd expression on his face. “I doubt that my house being broken into had anything to do with money. I can’t say why I think that, but . . .”

  “But what? Is there something you’re not telling me?”

  He nodded and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Chief, I know who ransacked my house. I didn’t tell you earlier because, well, I really had to think about it.”

  “What?” Tess tensed. “You know who ransacked your house?”

  “I recognized her face. It was Tilly Dover. She’s—”

  “Tilly? I’ve been looking for her. She’s Glen’s friend. Why would you keep this from me?” Tess felt her pulse pound. She thought she could trust this man, and here he was withholding evidence.

  “Because she needs help, not jail. I was hoping to find her, ask her why she did what she did. Yes, she was often with Glen. But she’s not his killer and she would never hurt Anna.” He held her gaze and Tess saw hopeful naiveté there.

  Was this a sinister omission or just because the man was a pastor and he saw good in people where none existed?

  LTS. Listen. Think. Speak. Tess waited and let her pulse calm. She knew she’d need to reevaluate this.

  “She’s a drug addict, unpredictable. Why wouldn’t she be after the money? She must have known he gave it to you—” Tess stopped midsentence.

  “What?” Oliver asked. “Did you remember something?”

  “No, it’s just pieces falling into place. She knew Glen was dead. She’s not in any information stream that I know of. She was there when he was shot.”

  She saw realization spread across Oliver’s face. “And she survived?”

  “Someone else was there—I’m sure of it. We thought someone went into the creek, but a body hasn’t surfaced. It must have been Tilly who was there; that’s the only thing that makes sense.”

  Oliver arched an eyebrow. “A witness to the murder.”

  “Hopefully someone we can talk to eventually.”

  He nodded and said nothing.

  Tess thought for a minute, energized. “This is something to do. I need to find Tilly.”

  “I want to help.”

  “Pastor Macpherson—”

  “Oliver.”

  “Oliver, there is really nothing for you to do. This is a police matter.”

  “It’s my wife.”

  “Yes, I realize that. But you need to be at home in case someone does call and demand a ransom. And you still have a church to run.”

  “The church is second to Anna, no matter what. I’m just not a good bench sitter.”

  “Neither am I. I’ll do everything I can to find her, I promise.”

  Again he held her gaze and Tess saw the pain in his eyes, the questioning, the fear. But there was also strength and resolve there. The more she knew Oliver Macpherson, the more she doubted that his wife would ever walk away voluntarily.

  Tess vowed to herself that she’d turn over every rock. Trouble was, was it already too late?


  29

  “How well do you know Bart Dover?” Tess asked Oliver.

  “Pretty well. He’s a regular church attender and I’ve dedicated all of his children.” He paused and looked away.

  “What is it?”

  “He tried to help Tilly. It was just too much. She is so often not in her right mind that he feared for his children. We thought tough love would have an impact, wake her up, but . . . well, that hasn’t been the case.”

  Tess shook her head. “Not your fault, not his fault. I dealt with so many homeless people in Long Beach with mental issues. No one has the best answer for how to help them. They fall through the cracks too easily. And drug abuse issues exacerbate the problem. If I were a parent, I’d think my first priority would be my children. I don’t blame Bart for giving up.”

  “Anna never gave up on her. She prayed with her often and tried to direct her to programs that would help her beat the addiction. Tilly was never ready to take that step to sobriety.”

  “And they can’t be forced. If they don’t want the help, it will never stick.” She got up. “I’m going to have a talk with Mr. Dover. With any luck, he might have an idea where I’m likely to find his sister.”

  Oliver stood. “I’m going with you.” Before Tess could raise an objection, he said, “He might be more forthcoming with me there.”

  Tess thought about that for a moment and then agreed. The family might be more inclined to talk if it meant helping Pastor Macpherson.

  The Dovers had several acres on the western boundary of Rogue’s Hollow. They grew pears and peaches and touted that everything was organic. Tess drove west past Wild Automotive on River Drive. She passed residential streets on her left—Broken Wheel, Baldwin, Deerfield, and Anglers Lane, streets that wound back into the hills, the area of Rogue’s Hollow where larger homes and property were.

  The Dover farm was at the end of River Drive, and Tess drove slowly down the gravel driveway, noting that there were several pickers tending to the pear trees. She hadn’t seen Bart Dover since her swearing in. She guessed he was in his early thirties, but he looked older. He worked hard; she could still remember the rough, hard feel of his hand when he’d shaken hers. He was wiping his face with a rag when they pulled up to the house. In front of his house was his truck, Dover’s Pears and Peaches written on the side.

  He frowned when they parked and got out of the cruiser. There were four kids of various ages playing in the yard. They all stopped what they were doing to stare. A woman came out onto the porch. Tess recognized Jessica Dover. She’d brought a blackberry pie to the swearing in. It was the first fresh berry pie Tess had ever eaten and it was heavenly.

  Bart stepped toward them. “Pastor Mac, you coming here with the police—well, that can’t be good.”

  Tess realized he probably thought the worst about his sister.

  “No tragedy, Bart. We’re trying to find Tilly and wondering if you have any idea where she might be. You know Chief O’Rourke.”

  He nodded and sighed heavily. “Well, for a minute there I thought you were going to tell me she was dead. She might as well be. Chief, I told her in no uncertain terms to stay away from me and my family the last time she was here. I felt sorry for her, but she left her drug stuff out, and I found my youngest playing with a coke pipe. You can understand I don’t need that stuff around here.”

  “I do understand, Mr. Dover. But it’s important that I find Tilly as soon as possible. Anything you can tell me might help.”

  He played with the rag in his hands for a few seconds. “The only person I know who could help you is Glen. And I heard what happened to him.”

  Weariness seemed to settle over him, and he leaned against his truck. “It’s sad, really. Tilly was always the smart one. I was the one who struggled in school while she sailed through. Mom died when we were little. Dad raised us. He expected great things from her. But something isn’t right in her head, and when he died—” His voice caught, and for a second Tess felt the pain he’d been dealing with for probably too long resonate within her.

  He cleared his throat. “Well, she lost all touch with reality. She stopped taking her legal medicine and started up with the illegal stuff, and you know the rest. Just glad he’s not around to see it.”

  He shoved the rag in his pocket. “I’m sorry, Chief, but I don’t know where she is. I doubt she’ll come to me, but if I do see her, I’ll call you right away.”

  –––

  They left the Dover farm and drove back to the station in silence. Tess could understand the man wanting to protect his family from what Tilly had become. Too often people with mental issues ended up self-medicating and becoming a faceless smudge in the homeless world. They became a police problem when the police had no resources to deal with them. Whose problem were they really?

  She was considering the situation when a 911 dispatcher came over the radio with a call for Rogue’s Hollow, a call to aid an injured woman. Tess turned it up, and she and Oliver listened as Del answered and requested clarification.

  “Anonymous 911 call, requested assistance, stating there is an injured female on the east side of Midas Creek, below the Stairsteps. Paramedics are asking for more information, a better location, and what type of injuries. The caller disconnected. NFD.”

  No further details.

  Tess was all ears. Del indicated he was en route and would advise. He must have cleared the accident he was on earlier.

  “Do you think that could be Tilly?” Oliver asked.

  “I’m not sure, but I’m very interested in what Del has to say.”

  After a few minutes, Del asked the dispatcher to raise Tess on the air.

  “I copy, Boy-1,” she said into the radio mike.

  “Chief, we got a body, a woman.”

  Tess looked at Macpherson, saw him pale as they waited for Del to continue.

  “I’m below the Stairsteps. In some brush. She’s a few feet from the creek and barely breathing, but you better get down here.”

  30

  “I’m going with you.” Macpherson was adamant. Tess didn’t have the heart to refuse him. Del was solo today, but just after Tess acknowledged she was en route, Gabe Bender called.

  “I was listening to my scanner. I heard Del call in. I know where he’s at. I can help you get down there quick.”

  Tess accepted his help and passed the station to continue to the viewing platform parking lot. She and Oliver met Gabe there. She saw the surprise in his face at the sight of Macpherson, but he didn’t question the man’s presence.

  This was the first spot Tess had visited after her swearing in. Just about everyone who came to town came to see the Stairstep Falls and visited the viewing platform. A bridge spanned the creek here, with the viewing platform in the middle. The viewing platform and the trails on the west side of the creek were maintained by the city of Rogue’s Hollow. Hiking trails on both sides of the creek were also accessed here. The east side of the creek and trail was not as maintained, nor did it go as far because it was technically BLM land.

  “This way.” Gabe motioned to them, and they followed him across the bridge, where several tourists stood watching the water. Tess couldn’t see Del from here and she decided that was a good thing. Looky-loos couldn’t see either. She saw the hiking path running parallel to the creek once they crossed the bridge. Bender started on the path and then cut off trail to continue down to the fence line. Sirens sounded close. At least Mercy Flights, the local ambulance/medic service, would be quick getting here. In Long Beach there were any number of ambulance companies; here in the Rogue Valley there was only Mercy Flights.

  They held on to the fence to steady themselves, and she could feel the spray from the falls. When they got to where the fence ended, Bender pointed.

  Tess could see Del standing next to a prone form covered in a blanket.

  “Keep going this way,” he said. “It levels off. I’ll guide the medics in.”

  Tess nodded and she and Oliver cont
inued down. Here there was no trail. They were making their way through brush, but it was obvious Del had come this way as well. As the path leveled and they got closer, Macpherson pushed past.

  “Anna,” he called and rushed to her, stumbling as he went, barely keeping from falling.

  Del moved and Tess saw Anna’s pale face. Oliver fell on his knees beside his wife. He cradled her head and Tess heard him begin to pray. Anna’s face was scratched and bruised. Her breathing was shallow, labored.

  Del grabbed Tess’s arm, face scrunched in distress. “I searched here the other night. She wasn’t here—I know it.” Tess wrenched her eyes away from Anna to pay attention to him. “You can see drag marks. She’s on a tarp. Someone put her on the tarp and dragged her here.”

  Tess saw what he was indicating. Del anticipated her question. “Followed it a bit, but it ends. I don’t know where she came from.”

  Tess took a deep breath, gathered her thoughts. Anna needed her best and she would give nothing less. “Find out if dispatch has any more information on the caller—a location, anything.”

  “Will do.”

  “Did she say anything?”

  “Not making sense.” He stepped away and carried on a conversation with dispatch.

  Tess couldn’t see what Anna was wearing, if she had on a shirt that matched the fabric she’d found in the bushes. But oddly, she looked all wrapped up, as if someone had laid her here carefully, bundled and dry.

  She heard voices and turned to see the medics making the hike toward them, carrying a litter. Tess tried to be hopeful, wanted to say something encouraging to Oliver. The medics stepped in and Oliver moved to the side.

  As they began to assess Anna, Tess couldn’t believe what she was seeing. There were bruises and scratches, but there were also Band-Aids, and the clothing was clean and dry.

  It didn’t make sense. Had Anna been with Glen and did she go over the falls, or was something else going on? And now where did Tilly fit in? Would the crazy druggie she’d heard described have the wherewithal to pull Anna from the creek and patch her up?