“I don’t know what the motive might be. I’m just saying he had the means and the opportunity. And I don’t like coincidences. And here we have a big one.”
Jamison said, “Namely, a very rare poison that is found in fish in waters off Australia and a person here who lives there part of the time.”
“And the opportunity comes from the fact that he was one of the last people to see McClellan alive and he has no alibi for the time he was killed,” added Decker.
“But you’d think he’d have tried to come up with an alibi,” remarked Kelly. “I mean, the TOD on carbon monoxide poisoning is never going to be to the minute. He could have stuck the guy in the car and then gone someplace where there were other people to see him.”
“But he probably assumed it would never be seen as anything other than a suicide,” countered Decker. “So why bother with an alibi?”
Kelly didn’t look convinced by this, but he said, “Look, I know this toxin stuff casts a whole new light on things. There has to be more to it than suicide, I’ll agree with you on that. So you want to go talk to Hugh again?”
“Yeah, and right now would be a good time.”
“And what about Shane?” asked Decker.
“We checked his alibi. At all relevant times he was out of town getting fracking supplies a good five hours from here. People where he was confirmed it. I told you he had nothing to do with it.”
“Well, that’s something,” said Decker.
“Joe!”
They turned to see Caroline Dawson striding toward them, a fierce look on her features.
“Oh boy, she does not look happy,” said the detective nervously.
She reached them and she stood face-to-face with Kelly. “You son of a bitch.”
“What did I do?” he said, taking a step back.
“My father sold out to McClellan, everything. And you knew all about it. And you didn’t tell me? I thought we were friends.”
“Caroline, look, we, I mean, you have to understand—” He looked desperately at Decker for help.
Decker said, “We were the ones to find out, and then we told Joe.”
Caroline didn’t take her eyes off Kelly. “So you did know? Just say it, you did know?”
“Yes, I did.”
“And Maddie’s, too? That’s gone as well?”
“Yes. Look, I was going to tell you but your father said—”
“Thanks for nothing.” She slapped him, turned, and strode off.
Kelly rubbed his cheek where she had hit him. “Did I mention that she has a temper?”
“Boy, I would not want to be her father,” said Jamison.
“Speaking of, let’s go talk to him right now,” said Decker. “There might be nothing left of him by the time Caroline finishes with him. We need to beat her to it.”
ON THE DRIVE OUT, Decker asked Kelly, “What made Shane come back here?”
Kelly eyed him. “This was his hometown.”
“I understand that he was close to his mother but she had died by then, correct?”
“She had, yeah.”
“And he didn’t really care for his father. So why come back here and work for the guy?”
“Why don’t you ask him?”
“Because I’m asking you. You’re his friend.”
“What does it matter why he came back?”
“Right now everything matters.”
Kelly sat up straighter and stared out the window. “Shane never talked about the war with me. I only found out from other guys he served with. There were a couple that visited him here. We all went out, had some drinks, ate a bunch of red meat, and watched some football. Guy stuff, you know.”
“And what did they say?” asked Jamison.
“That Shane was really brave. That he was a good leader. That he cared about his guys more than he cared about himself. He was a Ranger, you know.”
“No, I didn’t know that,” said Jamison.
“Yeah. He was a sergeant when he came out. He could have stayed in and worked his way up higher, I guess. But he didn’t.”
“Maybe he wanted to see someone here,” said Decker suggestively.
Kelly continued to look out the window. “If you’re thinking of Caroline, I won’t disagree with you.”
“But it seems unrequited,” said Jamison.
“Even though their dads are both rich, they’re from two different worlds. Shane is a ‘beer and shoot a deer’ kind of guy. Caroline could be plopped in the middle of Paris and do just fine.” He paused and rubbed at his cheek. “The truth is she left us both in the dust a long time ago.”
“But that doesn’t mean a guy has to give up trying,” said Decker.
“No, it doesn’t,” said Kelly slowly. “But as the years go by, it is an effort with diminishing returns.”
Decker wondered if Kelly was just talking about Shane or himself.
* * *
“Okay, that does not look good. It’s like Hal Parker’s place all over again.”
Jamison said this as they pulled into the front of Dawson’s house. The door was standing wide open.
They hustled up to the porch.
Kelly peered inside the doorway and called out, “Hugh? Everything okay?”
There was no answer.
Kelly said, “At this time of the night all the hired help has long since gone home.”
He pulled his gun and rushed inside. They drew their weapons and followed him in.
“Hugh!” cried out Kelly. “Hugh, you here? Everything okay? Answer me!”
They moved slowly down the hallway, taking time to clear each room before they passed by it.
They heard nothing and saw no one.
They finally reached the door to Dawson’s office. It wasn’t open, but Kelly tried the doorknob and found it unlocked. He tapped on the door. “Hugh, it’s Joe Kelly.”
There was no answer.
He turned the knob and slowly pushed open the door.
They all looked into the room, their gazes moving from one section to the next until they stopped at the desk.
“Holy shit!” exclaimed Kelly.
“Oh my God,” echoed Jamison.
Decker said nothing. He gingerly moved toward the desk, avoiding the obvious debris on the floor, and stared down at Hugh Dawson, or what was left of him.
The room had now taken on an electric blue shade for Decker as the pall of death cascaded all over the room.
I guess that sensation is going to continue to come and go, he thought.
It had been a particularly violent death.
The man was slumped in his chair with most of his head gone. The desk, chair, floor, and walls were covered with blood and bits of the deceased man.
Kelly and Jamison joined him, taking care not to impact the crime scene.
Decker ran his gaze down the weapon that had done this level of damage. The Remington side-by-side lay on the desk. It had been perched on top of a pile of books and then secured using masking tape. The muzzle was angled up and pointed at the dead man. Decker noted the line of string running from the triggers around the butt of the weapon and then back to where Dawson sat. There it dropped off the edge of the desk and into the kneehole. The man had apparently used the twine to pull the triggers, ending his life, without a doubt.