She Who Watches (24 page)

He thought briefly about what it must have been like to work an entire career wearing this stiff uniform and to be in foot chases wearing these boots. Back in the old days, all three divisions of their department wore the uniform, even the investigators. That was back in the day when the only undercover work or covert operations being conducted were by the military or the federal government. Local and state cops were content to be a visible presence in their community, the uniform a symbol of their pride in their respective community.

So many things had changed, but the common elements had remained. The troopers in their department still took pride in their uniforms and in the role they played in their communities.

After checking a few e-mails, Mac headed over to pick up Dana.

As Mac walked up to her apartment, his stiff leather boots creaked. “Hey, partner,” he said when she opened the door. “How does it feel to be back in uniform?”

“Don't ask.” Dana also had on her dress uniform, the same style Mac wore. On her, the dress blues looked professional and attractive.

“Ready to go?”

“Almost. I can't get this stupid strap on.”

He took the Sam Brown strap from her. “It's almost impossible to do this without help. I decided not to wear my jacket and gun belt until we got down there.”

“I wasn't going to, either, but I didn't want to take a half hour to dress in front of everyone when we got there. I can hook up the front if you can get the one in the back.”

Mac stood behind Dana, breathing in the subtle scent of her perfume and waiting for her to pass the strap over her left shoulder. He liked the scent and thought about telling her so, but didn't. She might not take it the right way, and he definitely didn't want her to get the wrong idea.

Mac lifted up on her gun belt slightly to secure the strap to her belt keeper, then let go and stepped back. “How's that feel? Too heavy on your shoulder?”

Dana flexed her arm and then lifted it up to her shoulders. “It's definitely not comfortable, but it will do. Thanks.”

As planned, after grabbing a light supper, they took turns driving and resting for the long trip. Around 1:00 a.m., they reached Central Point just outside of Medford, where they stopped at the OSP office to get directions to the high school where Trooper Revman's body was being held. The two of them were scheduled to stand watch between two and two-thirty Wednesday morning. After getting instructions from the Honor Guard supervisor, they joined the other participants in the hallway just outside the gymnasium.

Shortly after two o'clock, the lieutenant supervising the event signaled for Mac. He slipped on his white cotton gloves and stood in the doorway to the auditorium. Then, after getting the nudge from the lieutenant, he began to march toward the stage area, where Trooper Revman's flag-draped coffin sat in the center, flanked by two uniformed troopers that he didn't know. He walked down the left side of the aisle, while a second trooper from another field office walked down the right side. It was their job to relieve the two troopers by the coffin and then stand their fifteen-minute watch. This had gone on for the past twelve hours and would continue throughout the ceremony the next day. Troopers from all over the state were participating in the traditional deathwatch.

Once he reached Daniel's coffin, he came to attention in front of the trooper he was replacing, their felt campaign hats nearly touching. Mac slowly raised his right hand to his hat and lowered it in the traditional salute. The second trooper was dismissed to leave the room, then Mac performed an about-face and stood at attention.

Initially, Mac had thought that fifteen minutes was a relatively short time and had hoped for a longer watch. But by the time five minutes had passed, he was more than satisfied with the briefer time. Standing at attention next to Daniel's coffin felt like an eternity. He went through a lifetime of memories and was glad to see Dana enter the room to relieve his post.

Fifteen minutes later, Dana met him in the waiting area, and they drove to their hotel and checked in.

“This is me.” Mac pointed toward his room.

“I'm a couple of doors down.” Dana motioned with her bag. “You want to grab breakfast or sleep in?”

“I think I'll sleep in, if I can,” Mac slid the key card inside the door. “Just give me a call when you wake up.”

“Mac.” Dana lowered her bag to the floor, holding out her arms for a hug. “I know you would never initiate this, which I appreciate, but I think we could both use a hug right now.” As usual, she was right on. They hugged, like two old friends should at a time like this. Dana rubbed Mac's arms as she stepped away. “Get some rest.” She turned and picked up her bag.

“You too.” Mac smiled and watched her enter her room. Then he went into his own.

The day had been long and tedious. It seemed days ago that they had talked with Therman Post, but it had only been about sixteen hours. Mac was glad he'd made the trip south for the watch and for the funeral tomorrow and even more pleased that Dana had come down with him. She didn't have the same connection with Daniel and had come primarily to support him, and he appreciated that. The department didn't pay overtime for these types of events, and the hotel costs would be coming out of their own pockets. So Mac didn't take the gesture lightly. Dana was a good friend.

TWENTY-FOUR

M
ac awoke to the phone ringing and rolled over to grab the phone from the nightstand. He groped around and eventually realized that he wasn't at home, and the ringing was coming from the desk on the other side of the room. He yawned and glanced over at the clock. It was after nine.

Mac picked up the receiver and peered out the curtains at the bright sunlight. The thick drapery had kept the room dark as a crypt. “Hi.”

“You hungry?” Dana asked.

“Yeah, I could eat. Are you already dressed?”

“Yeah. I've been up for an hour. I woke you up, right?”

“Not exactly. I had to get up to answer the phone.” Mac let go of the drapes, noticing he was holding them a little too far apart for his current attire.

“I'm sorry, Mac. You can go back to bed if you want.” “No, that's OK. Give me a few minutes, and I'll get dressed.

There's a restaurant here in the hotel. We can grab something there.”

“That's what I was thinking.”

Mac patted his stomach, making a mental note not to eat too big a breakfast. The uniform was a little too tight already. He remembered that when he'd first worn the dress uniform, he actually had to wear his bulletproof vest under his jacket to make it fit better. He really needed to lose some serious weight. He got dressed and met Dana down in the lobby. She was wearing sweats and wore her hair up in a ponytail.

After ordering, Dana picked up her coffee and sipped it. “We may have a discrepancy in Scott Watson's timelines between the two interviews.”

“What?” Mac had been staring out the window. “You brought the files with you?”

She shrugged. “I thought I might have some time to go through them. I couldn't get to sleep right away last night, so . . .”

Mac felt a little guilty. He hadn't brought anything and hadn't even thought about the case. “What inconsistencies?”

“Nothing major, but something we need to address. Scott told the FBI investigators he was interrupted from his meeting by his secretary. You know, when she gave him the message that Sara had called about her car. But he told us that he didn't get the message until he was out of the meeting after the day-care provider called him. It could be something or nothing at all.

“You're right. We need to check it out.”

“I'm anxious to get that list of possible suspects from Nate. That's an angle we need to pursue. There's a lot of money at stake, and that equals motive.”

“Hmm.” Mac sipped on his coffee. Strong, hot, and black. He needed the caffeine this morning, for sure.

“I think we should make another run out to Warm Springs.” She leaned back as the waitress brought their meals. “I'd like to find out more about Margaret's grandson. There might be some jealousy on his part. Sara's rich, and he's without a job. Maybe he went to her house to confront her about the artifacts their grandmother gave her. Or maybe she caught him stealing them.”

“Possible, but he wouldn't need to break into her car to get the address.”

“Maybe he wanted it to look like a random act. Shoving that beaded bag into her mouth seems like an act of revenge.”

Mac spread some salsa on his omelet. “Maybe, but if it was an artifact and worth a lot of money,why do that? I'd like Nate to handle the interview with Aaron and some of the others. Remember, we have no police authority there.”

She didn't seem happy about the idea. “I suppose you're right. He can tell us if the guy needs to be investigated more thoroughly.”

“We can trust Nate, Dana. I'm sure of that. He's in a better position. The FBI couldn't even secure an interview with Therman Post, and Nate was able to get an interview in less than a day.” Mac thought about the little girl in the park and the chilly reception he'd gotten from the older woman. They might get the same reception from others. “I think we can trust Nate to do right by us.”

“You have a point. It's just that I—I mean, I know we need to be here for the funeral, but the case is already cold, and Sara's killer is still out there. We were fortunate to find these leads. I wonder if the feds even realized Sara had a history with the Warm Springs tribe.”

“I know what you mean, but we need to get through this funeral today, and tomorrow we'll be in Salem all day. Nate can save us some time by covering for us on Aaron Galbraith and any of the others on Therman's list.” He tackled his ham-and-cheese omelet.

AFTER BREAKFAST, they returned to their rooms and prepared for the actual funeral. They met in the lobby and then drove over to the high school, where troopers were still participating in the death- watch. As the time for the ceremony approached, Mac and Dana stood in formation with several hundred members of their department. They made an impressive sight. Officers from all over the country, and even some Royal Canadian Mounted Police in their brilliant red uniforms, stood in formation in another part of the parking lot. Members of the Central Point office stood alone in front. This was the office where Daniel had worked, and by tradition they would be the first seated in the auditorium.

By the time Mac and Dana entered to be seated, there were more than two thousand officers in the room. While watching the officers funnel through the door, Mac spotted Nathan Webb. Seeing all of the officers gave Mac a sense of pride. He'd done well in choosing law enforcement as a career. No matter what part of the country you came from, you were a member of a unique brotherhood.

“That's Senator Wilde down there.” Dana pointed down into the crowd.

“Where?” Mac squinted at the line of dignitaries toward the front.

“Down there, three seats to the left of the governor.”

“I see him.” He wore a gray suit and was seated in the front row in an area reserved for family members and VIPs.

The funeral service began as the department chaplain offered an opening prayer while everyone stood at their seats. After the prayer, Daniel's wife was led into the service by their department head. Tears smeared Mac's vision. This was the hardest part.

When Jennifer had been seated, the chaplain offered one more prayer. The bagpipers played “Amazing Grace” as they entered the auditorium, followed by the Honor Guard, who would be carrying the coffin to the awaiting motorcade after the service. The flag-draped coffin was still in the front of the room, where it would remain throughout the rest of the ceremony. Flag bearers entered the room, and behind them came the professional drill team, the finest in the state. Many of them were prior military. The troopers on the drill team practiced regularly for these events, which, thankfully, were infrequent.

At the end of the service, the Honor Guard carried the coffin from the room and placed it in the back of a hearse for the motorcade trip to the gravesite. Following tradition, before anyone left the service,Trooper Revman's radio number was broadcast over a loudspeaker.

A dispatcher called out his number. “Thirty-one thirty-four.” Except for an occasional sob, everyone maintained silence.

“Thirty-one thirty-four,” the dispatcher called out again.

“Thirty-one thirty-four.” The final call was given.“Gone but not forgotten.”

Most attendees in the room, who had been to a police funeral, knew this statement marked the end of the service. Mac and Dana stood and began the slow trip to the car, wading through the crowd of mourners.

Hundreds of police cars, fire trucks, and ambulances led the solemn motorcade to the gravesite. The local streets were closed to allow the vehicles to travel in procession, each with a wailing siren and emergency lights activated. Once the motorcade arrived at the gravesite, the mourners gathered on the grass to pay their last respects. A lone bugler played taps in the distance, followed by a volley of shots from the Honor Guard.

When Daniel's body was lowered into the ground, most of the troopers, even those who rarely cried, fought tears. Mac pulled out a handkerchief and blew his nose.

Then it was over. Mac tipped his head back, relieved to have some closure.

On the way to his car, Mac spotted Senator Wilde and pointed him out to Dana.

“Want to say hello?” Dana asked.

“Sure, why not? But I don't want to get into an interview with him. Let's just say hi and firm up our plans for tomorrow. I'm not in the investigative mood right now.”

“You and me both.”

“Senator Wilde?” Mac said as they approached the man.

“Yes.” His questioning gaze darted from Mac to Dana.

“Senator Wilde, I'm Detective Mac McAllister and this is Detective Dana Bennett. We are the investigators on Sara's case.”