Walk the Wire (Amos Decker #6) - David Baldacci Page 0,112
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.
“W-what?”
“Why were you at your dad’s house?”
Caroline closed her eyes and fell asleep.
Southern said, “Let’s step outside. She needs her rest. I think she was more concussed than they originally thought.”
Out in the hall Decker looked at Southern. “Hugh Dawson told us you and Caroline had become good friends, sort of like sisters?”
Southern smiled. “I would be quite the older sister, but yes, we have become friends.” Her features turned somber. “When I heard about what happened I couldn’t believe it. The nurse told me they gave her some meds to help her rest. She didn’t sleep all that much last night, apparently. They said she’s probably in shock after what happened to Hugh.”
“Did you talk to her?” asked Decker.
Southern nodded. “Just for a few minutes. Off and on.”
“Okay, then you know more than we do. What did she tell you?”
“From what I could understand, she went there to have it out with her father over some business issues. She didn’t tell me what they were.”
“That’s right, you don’t know,” said Jamison.
“Don’t know what?”
“Hugh Dawson sold out to Stuart McClellan.”
Southern gaped. “ ‘Sold out’? What does that mean?”
“He sold his business, all his properties, to McClellan.”
“Everything, including Maddie’s?” Southern looked even more stunned.
“Yes,” said Jamison. “Including Maddie’s.”
Southern shook her head. “So I guess that explains why she was going out there. That would have been devastating for her.”