Decker examined blood and bits on the floor in front of the desk and on the sides.
Kelly shook his head. “I can’t believe this. First Stuart dead, and now Hugh?”
Jamison managed to maneuver herself close enough to the desk to see a piece of paper lying there. It was covered with blood and other matter.
“It’s a suicide note,” she said in a hushed voice.
“What does it say?” asked Decker.
“It says he killed himself because he felt guilty for murdering Stuart McClellan.”
None of them said anything for a long moment as this revelation sank in.
“Does he give a reason for murdering the guy?” asked Kelly, who was standing behind her.
“No. Just that he admits it and felt badly afterward.”
They heard footsteps behind them.
They all turned to see Caroline Dawson rush into the room.
She looked around and then saw them by the desk. Her gaze reached her father’s body and then moved to his destroyed face. Every muscle in her body tensed, she turned deathly pale, stopped moving forward, and screamed hysterically. A moment later she tottered to the side and collapsed to the floor unconscious, hitting her head on the side of the chair on the way down.
And she didn’t move after that.
KELLY SAID, “Caroline is going to be fine. They’ve checked her out. No internal bleeding, but she is concussed. They’re just keeping her for observation. But it could have been a lot worse. She hit her head really hard when she fell.”
He finished the cup of weak coffee he’d bought from the hospital café, tossed it in the trash, and sat down next to Jamison in the visitors room. Decker was leaning against the wall.
Kelly said, “We’ve showed the note to several of Dawson’s associates. They said it looked like his handwriting.”
“I guess it’s probably legit, then,” said Jamison.
“So he blew his head off from guilt,” muttered Kelly. “I never would have believed he had anything to do with McClellan’s murder.”
“Maybe Caroline will have some ideas about that.”
“I doubt she knew this was coming. You saw her reaction.”
“No, I meant whether she knew why her father would want to kill McClellan.”
“Right. Look, the guys have been business rivals for years, that’s no secret. But that’s all it was: business. And why now? After they closed this big deal?”
“That’s the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question,” said Decker.
“Well, I’ve got to do the paperwork on this back at the station,” said Kelly.
“And we’ll go back out to the crime scene,” replied Decker.
A moment later Liz Southern walked in looking breathless and distressed. She had on pale blue slacks, a dark brown blouse, and flat shoes. Her hair was tied up in a bun.
“Is Hugh really dead?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“But how?”
“Looks like suicide,” replied Kelly. “He left a note.”
Southern looked gobsmacked. “Why would Hugh kill himself?”
“We have to figure that out.”
“Why are you here?” asked Decker. “And how did you know about Hugh?”
Kelly said, “I called her and told her what had happened.”
“Where is Caroline?” said Southern. “Is she going to be all right?”
Kelly said, “She’s in room two-oh-three. She’s going to be fine,” he added when Southern looked concerned.
“Can I go and sit with her? I can’t imagine what she must be going through.”
“I see no reason why you can’t. She probably needs someone with her. In fact, that’s why I called you.”
“Thanks.” She hurried off.
After Kelly left, Jamison said, “Caroline is going to need more than a friend to see her through this. Seeing your father with his head missing? She’s going to need therapy.”
“And lots of it,” noted Decker.
* * *
They left the hospital and drove back out to Dawson’s house. Two cops were there on duty. One of the patrolmen told Decker and Jamison that a forensic tech was inside.
They put on booties and gloves and entered the house.
Dawson had not been moved. The tech was still taking pictures.
“Messy,” said the young man, who had identified himself as Ryan Leakey.
“Shotgun blasts to the head usually are,” commented Jamison drily.
Decker walked around the perimeter of the room, taking it all in.
“Reynolds has already been by,” said Jamison, looking at her phone. “He just texted me a prelim on the time of death. Based on body temp, he died about an hour before we got here.”
Decker nodded. “That’s important. It’s a tight enough time frame to eliminate people from the suspect list.” He moved closer to the corpse and examined the end of the string dangling in front of the dead man. “You got pics of the desk yet?” he asked Leakey.
“Just one set.”
“Do multiple sets, including one from directly above. From as high a point as you can.”
“I got a ladder in my van outside.”
“Go get it.”
Decker came around to the back of the desk and looked over the shoulder of the dead man. He eyed the weapon, the twine, and the position of the body. It all fit together, he had to admit.
“See anything of interest?” asked Jamison.
“Yeah, a dead guy with no head and it’s too early for Halloween.”
Decker looked down at the twine, then squatted and studied the desk. He leaned in for a better look.
He straightened and looked at the doorway as Leakey came in carrying a ten-foot ladder. Decker held it for him while Leakey climbed up it and took the pictures.
“Measure the twine, too,” said Decker.
“The twine?” said the tech.
“Yeah, the twine. I want to know exactly how long it is.”
Jamison said, “Decker, what’s going on? What are you thinking?”
“I’m not sure. Yet.”
When the tech was done with the photos and the measurements, Decker crossed the room and sat in the same chair he had used when they had come to visit Dawson that first time. Jamison came to stand next to him.
“Looks pretty straightforward, I guess,” she said.
“Yeah, except it’s always the straightforward ones that end up going sideways on you. And I still don’t see how this gets us to the ticking time bomb.”
“I’ve been telling you that for a while now,” Jamison pointed out.
When Decker didn’t respond she added, “Well, at least we don’t have to ferret out the cause and manner of death on this one.”
“Don’t we?” replied Decker, staring resolutely at the dead man.
“CAROLINE, WHY DID YOU GO out to your dad’s house?” asked Jamison.
It was the following day, and she and Decker were in the woman’s hospital room where the woman was lying in the bed, groggy and pale.
Liz Southern sat silently in a chair across from her, gazing at her friend sympathetically.
Caroline gazed up at Jamison and Decker, who hovered over her.