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FIRST THING GORDON did when he arrived in his office the next morning was to check his calendar. The time off he’d taken after his injury last spring fell under sick leave, so he had most of his vacation days left. If he went to Pine Hills on a Thursday or Friday, came home on Monday or Tuesday, he could have his interview and do a little scouting around as well.
And have a couple of days alone with Angie.
It was an hour earlier in Oregon, so no point in calling to set up an appointment yet. He tried to come up with a way he could get Laurie to talk to Magda without letting Laurie know about the letter, but couldn’t think of anything reasonable. He’d have to tell her the truth. Laurie was the epitome of discretion. Presenting it as an excuse to get away, that he wasn’t ready to leave Mapleton right now, but he needed to know where the mayor stood, if he had even the remotest involvement in the invitation.
Next, he looked up the Pine Hills PD. Current Chief of Police was a man named Preston Laughlin. Small force, not much bigger than Mapleton’s. So, a lateral move, not an upward one.
Should he touch base with Laughlin, see if he’d share any inside information? Why he was retiring, for one. Age, health, or sick of the job? Further poking around said Laughlin had been chief for fifteen years, but details were few. Nothing about his health, no articles about clashes with the mayor. A plus right there, although the Mapleton Weekly had never reported on what happened behind closed doors when Gordon met with McKenna.
If the new chief would replace Laughlin, it didn’t serve much to research him. Better to spend time looking at Pine Hills as a whole. He revised his search. Pine Hills was a small town outside Salem, Oregon. Crime rate well below the national average. Angie would like that. Hell, so did he.
The door handle jiggled, followed by a knock.
Gordon realized he hadn’t bothered to unlock the door. He minimized the computer window. “Hang on.”
Laurie stood outside, holding a couple of message slips. “Wasn’t sure you were in yet, Chief. You usually grab these before I can bring them to you.”
“Got sidetracked.” He took the slips, set them by his computer, and grabbed the box of Angie’s day-olds. “Didn’t even drop these off. You mind?”
“Of course not. Gives me first pick.” She peeked in the box. “Ooh. Mini-éclairs. You need me for anything first?”
Should he ask her to talk to Magda? Not now. He needed to do more research. Even though Angie had agreed to come with him, there was no need to take a trip if it was obviously a waste of time from the get go. “No, I’ve got everything under control.”
Time for Chief Stuff. He set aside his Pine Hills research—a surface scraping hadn’t raised any red flags—and opened yesterday’s reports.
The day had been as quiet overall as it had been for his short foray into patrol. Nothing where a body camera would have proven useful. He’d add the information to his report for the town council. Give them an accounting of how many times in the last three months the use of a body camera would have been warranted to document a stop, and the types of stops Mapleton officers normally instigated.
According to his research, departments that allowed officer discretion as to when to turn on their cameras only used them in instances where they were going to make an arrest. Made sense, since those were the cases likely to end up in court where the footage could be used as evidence.
Traffic stops were always risky, so Gordon opted to include those as well.
He opened his weekly reports and started a new spreadsheet. Still Chief Stuff, but the variation made it seem almost interesting.
What would Chief Stuff be like in Pine Hills?
Let the chickens hatch before you count them.
He’d finished entering data for the last month when his internal line said Solomon was calling.
He picked up the receiver. “Whatcha got, Ed?”
“I touched base with Centennial, filled them in on Budweitz’s whereabouts. They’re going to be investigating him as a potential suspect. They’re happy to share what they’re learning.”
Gordon pictured the gleam in Solomon’s eyes. “And you’re happy to receive what they share.”
“Absolutely. Nothing wrong with exercising those investigative chops.”
“Did they have anything to share?” Gordon asked.
“As a matter of fact, they did.”
Of course they did. Otherwise why would Solomon have called him? He waited.
“First. The late Mrs. Budweitz was sharing a house with one Al Eisler. She wasn’t well-known in her new neighborhood. The neighbors reported she wasn’t the first woman to cohabit with Eisler. They think she was number six. According to the reports Centennial shared with me, he went through them in relatively rapid succession. One estimate puts the longest stay at eleven months. Most were gone in six to eight.”
“Sounds like the neighbors keep an eye on comings and goings.”
“One in particular,” Solomon said.
Gordon chuckled. “Let me guess. Elderly woman, doesn’t get out much, keeps herself occupied knowing what’s happening. Likes to garden. Lives across the street.”
“Next door, actually, but yeah, pretty much spot on. Except for the gardening. She’s got heart trouble and severe allergies which keep her home most of the time. Avid birdwatcher, though.”
Gordon pictured binoculars aimed at things other than birds. “Have they questioned Mr. Eisler yet?”
“He claims he stayed home all weekend. Said Yvonne told him she wanted to visit a friend from her old neighborhood on Sunday. He had no problem with it. Thought he might be coming down with something, couch-potatoed the day away watching movies. He says he can’t remember the friend’s name, and not even Ms. Nosy Neighbor knows whether his alibi holds up. They’re digging.”
“Let me guess again,” Gordon said. “The movies were all streaming, ones everyone’s seen at least half a dozen times, so not an alibi.”
“Spot on again. Hunt for Red October and Blazing Saddles. Who can’t fake either of them if someone asks?”
“When Bud was wallowing at Finnegan’s, he made it sound like his wife had just left him. Any real dates?”
“According to Mrs. Nosy Neighbor, she saw Yvonne’s car coming and going for the last three months, but it didn’t take up permanent residence until two weeks ago.”
“Not his usual pattern, but I suppose he could have tired of her faster than his others.”
“True enough. Or he’s changing his habits and moving through them more often.”
“One other question,” Gordon said. “According to Asel, she was killed where she was found. What was she doing in the house? Bud said she’d moved out.”
“Numerous possibilities come to mind. Stopping by to pick up things she left? Didn’t know Bud had moved out, wanted to talk to him? Check up on him? See if there was evidence someone else of the female persuasion had moved in?”
“All reasonable. You think he’s good for it?” Gordon asked.
“Anything’s possible. Centennial hasn’t ruled him out, but it’s not our case. Just keeping you up to speed.”
“Appreciate it. Anything new on Mrs. Volmer?”
“Asel talked to her doctor. Nothing to indicate she was suicidal. He’s ruling it a homicide.”