20

Standing in front of the inn, Tess looked across the main street, River Drive, at Wild Automotive. This was essentially where downtown Rogue’s Hollow began. The business district had a simple layout. The Hollow bridge was the turnoff from Highway 62, and once over the bridge and Rogue River, past the town’s only stoplight, River Drive began. On the riverside was the Rogue’s Hollow Inn and Suites. The church grounds took up the rest of the river frontage, extending all the way to Midas Creek. Wild Automotive began the business district on the other side of River Drive.

She crossed the street to the station and spent a few minutes logging the bullet Casey Reno had given her into evidence. She placed herself on duty and told Sheila that she’d be out talking to people in town about Glen.

From the station, Tess decided she’d walk this morning, not take her car. It would be easier, she thought, to get a feel for where Glen went last Thursday when he arrived in the Hollow. River Drive ran east-west on the south side of the Rogue River through downtown. Heading east from the highway turnoff, the drive was only about four blocks long and eventually made a right turn to run along Midas Creek. To reach rural Rogue’s Hollow one had to drive west on River Drive.

Tess headed to the auto repair yard first. Besides a repair shop, Forest also owned a mini-mart and a gas station, the only one between Trail and Prospect. Forest was in a tie-dye T-shirt and Tess could see him in the garage before she stepped onto the lot. Forest employed a lot of people: pump attendants, a couple of clerks for his small convenience store, and around five mechanics. Tess never remembered seeing any of them idle. She’d heard that Forest was the guy to see for any auto or motorcycle repair job in Rogue’s Hollow—and most of the Upper Rogue, for that matter. He had the city contract to service the police cars. Forest had a solid rep as a man who did good work at a fair price.

Tess had quickly discovered that here, in this southern Oregon valley, word-of-mouth reputation was as good as gold. Unlike Southern California, where services proliferated and so did consumers, and businesses could get by with shoddy work or poor customer service, here word got around quickly. If someone couldn’t be counted on, people would take their business to a more reliable place.

“Hiya, Chief.” Forest saw her and stopped what he was doing as she walked toward him. He pulled a rag from his back pocket and wiped his hands as he greeted her. He was smiling; in fact, every time she saw Forest, he was smiling.

“Hi, Forest. You sound as if you expected me.”

“I did. I heard about Glen. That’s his Jeep over there.” He pointed to a battered two-door Jeep off to the right. “He dropped it off a week ago, Thursday to be exact, and asked me to do a little work on it, which I did. He never came back and he owes me $200.”

Tess strode to the Jeep, noted that there was a messenger bag on the passenger seat. Glen had nothing on him but an empty wallet and some change in his pocket. What was in the bag?

“Was that the only reason he was in Rogue’s Hollow—to get his Jeep repaired? Did he mention being here for any other reason?”

Forest shook his head. “All we talked about was the Jeep. Something was wrong with the four-wheel drive. Said he was planning to take a trip on some rough old logging roads and needed the four-wheel drive to be working properly. I had to order the part, so I told him it would take a couple of days. He didn’t seem bothered, just told me to call his cell when it was done. I called and left a message, never heard back.”

Cell. Casey had seen him talking on a phone. But Glen hadn’t had a phone on him or near him. She should have known that he would have a phone. It was amazingly easy for homeless people to get cell phones these days.

“Can you give me the cell number you had for him?”

“Sure thing.” Forest rattled off a number and Tess entered it into her phone. Phone records needed to be obtained. This could be a good lead.

“How did he seem to you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Was he nervous, angry, uneasy, jumpy—anything like that?”

Forest rubbed his hands together and thought a moment. “No, he actually just looked mellow and at peace.” He shrugged. “I mean, I’ve seen him tweaking and stoned in the past, but come to think of it, that day he wasn’t stoned, just happy. He had his dog with him, as usual. Killer is a sweetheart. I’m an animal lover. I heard you were able to save her.”

“Yeah, I guess she’s a tough animal. Did Glen have any close friends that you know of?”

“Tilly.”

“Tilly?” Tess had heard that name before.

“She’s an unbalanced girl, homeless mostly. Glen tends to look after her.”

“But she wasn’t here that day?”

“Not with him. He might have been trying to find her. When she’s in town, she hangs out near food places, looking for handouts, digging in the trash. I was letting her sleep behind my place.” He hiked a shoulder. “I just wanted her to be safe. But my insurance guy thought it was a liability, so I had to tell her no more.”

“Have you seen her lately?”

He stroked his beard. “I can’t think of when I last saw Tilly here. I think I heard that she was staying in Shady Cove. In fact, Glen generally spends more time in Shady Cove. I’ve seen them both in Aunt Caroline’s Park, across from Shady Kate’s—you know, the antique store? But I can ask my guys. The mini-mart is open 24-7; they might have seen her.”

“Thanks. I’ll talk to them.” Tess walked into the mini-mart and quickly got the attention of the two clerks. One was a woman Tess guessed was well past sixty-five and probably supplementing Social Security with the job, and the other was a twentysomething guy with a safety pin through his lower lip. Neither had seen Tilly lately, but they did see Glen when he dropped his car off. They promised to call if they did see Tilly.

Walking back to Glen’s Jeep, Tess asked herself some questions. Was Tilly with Glen when he was killed? If she was, had she fallen into the creek and just not surfaced yet, or did she survive and was now hiding somewhere? She didn’t know Glen and worked to form a picture of the guy in her mind’s eye. In her prior experience, homeless drug addicts were an unpredictable lot. The men usually stole to support their habits, and unfortunately the women often sold themselves to do the same. Thinking of the hopeless lifestyle sent a shiver up Tess’s spine.

The vast majority of murder victims knew their killers. Unless Glen was hiking early in the morning and stumbled on someone who decided to shoot him, it was a good bet he’d met his killer there for some reason. A bracing thought struck her: in this small town where everyone knew everyone, his killer could be hiding in plain sight.

That led her to motive. On the surface, it appeared that the person with the strongest motive for murder was the one whose money Glen brought to Anna. But maybe after she learned more about Glen, a stronger motive would surface. She needed to keep an open mind and learn as much as she could about her victim.

There were a lot of things to consider, and the timing still bugged her. Glen dropped his Jeep off on Thursday, then gave the money to Anna Friday night and showed up dead a week later. Where was he in the interim?

“If they haven’t seen her lately,” Forest said when Tess returned, “it’s not unusual for the daytime. You might come back and ask the night shift.”

“Thank you. I see there’s a bag on the front seat. Did he have anything else? Did he take something with him?”

“Just a small backpack. I saw him put dog food in it. He also bought some bottled water from the store.” Forest pointed toward his small convenience store. “That’s about it.”

If Glen didn’t come here with the money he handed to Anna Macpherson, Tess wondered, where did he get it? And when? More questions.

“You say he owes you two hundred dollars. Does he usually pay you? I mean, I’ve heard him described as a homeless drug addict. How did he keep his Jeep gassed up and running, and pay you?”

“Glen makes money under the table doing odd jobs and grunt work. Yeah, he was homeless, but he did earn enough to take care of what was important to him. His dog, his car, Tilly—not necessarily in that order. I would sometimes give him work to pay his bill.” He pointed to the area behind his station. “I was planning on having him clear the brush back there if he didn’t have the cash this time.”

Tess considered this for a moment; then her attention went back to the vehicle.

“Is the Jeep open? I’ll need to take the bag and anything else in the vehicle and place it into evidence.”

He nodded. “Have at it.”

Tess grabbed the door handle. “If you need a receipt, come by the office later and I’ll have one for you.”

“No problem.”

She slid into the front seat and turned back to Forest. “Would you mind keeping the Jeep secure for me?”

“Not at all. I’m still out two hundred bucks.”

She went through the car carefully but found it was mostly full of trash, dog hair, candy bar wrappers, and fast-food bags. But being that she’d been told Glen lived out of his car, it was surprisingly clean. Taking the messenger bag and then locking the Jeep, she thanked Forest before continuing her search for information about Glen Elders.

After Forest’s yard ended, the business walk on River Drive began, starting with Casey’s bookstore. She walked past the bookstore, a woman she’d not met yet behind the counter. Next was Hotshot Fishing, a sandwich shop on one side and a fishing/outdoor shop on the other side. Tess had had a sandwich or two at the place, but since she didn’t fish, she’d only glanced at the other half. They also rented bikes and did raft trips, one day and multiday. She wanted to take a raft trip but decided she’d probably wait until Jeannie made a summertime visit. It would be a great lure to convince her to make a second trip.

The woman behind the counter remembered that Glen had bought a sandwich to go and then continued on down the street. Next door to Hotshot was the police station/city hall and a small post office. Glen hadn’t stopped there. Tess stopped inside to drop off the bag she’d retrieved from Glen’s Jeep. She’d go through it later.

Across the street from the station, on the river side of Hollow Drive was the church property.

Tess paused, still bothered by the coincidence of Glen’s death and his cousin Anna’s disappearance. After a minute she continued to the next business, the Hollow Grind, where Casey had gotten her coffee and a place Tess visited often. Beans were roasted on-site and the smell was heavenly. Oregonians loved their coffee, something Tess truly appreciated. If it wasn’t a quaint coffee shop like this, there were numerous drive-through coffee huts all over the valley where a person could get a coffee fix.

“Hey, Chief, the usual?” Pete, the owner-operator, greeted her, though the place was busy.

“No coffee today, but I had a couple of questions to ask. Do you know Glen Elders?”

His face fell. “I did. My morning customers were already talking about that, that—” he frowned—“well, his death.”

“Had you seen him lately?”

“He was in here last weekend. He actually paid me back some money he owed, and he started a tab for a friend of his.”

“A tab?”

“Yeah, he has a homeless friend. I’ve complained to the cops before about her. She begs in front of the store and once or twice got aggressive with tourists. Anyway, he put forty dollars down in her name. So when she shows up, I’ll give her coffee and food until the money runs out. He didn’t steal the money, did he?”

“Not that I’m aware. I’m just trying to retrace his steps. This homeless woman, is it someone named Tilly?”

He nodded. “Tilly Dover.”

Tess had thought about this name since Forest said it, and she knew she had heard it before. Or read it. Then it came to her. In her studying up on local laws and problems, Tilly was listed and described as an unpredictable bipolar homeless woman. She’d been arrested numerous times and then kicked out of jail because of overcrowding. Tess had never seen her, had only heard stories.

“Was Tilly with him?”

Pete shook his head. “She did come in on Monday, by herself, clean and half-normal. Got coffee and a couple of breakfast bagels. Haven’t seen her since.”

“Thanks. If you do see her, could you give me a call? She’s not in trouble. I just want to talk to her about Glen.”

“Will do.”

On the other side of the Hollow Grind was a vacant storefront. At one time it had been a thrift store, but now a big For Lease sign graced the window. Rumor was, it would soon be a real estate office.

PSS, Platinum Security Systems, occupied the next slot. There was a sign on the door with a clock, the hands showing that someone would be back at noon. Tess had met Beto Acosta a couple of times. He’d tried to talk her into upgrading the security system at the PD, but that was something he needed to talk to Mayor Dixon about. He was nice enough, but to Tess it was as if he tried too hard. And he was a close talker; he liked to encroach on personal space, and Tess hated that.

She paused, not because she thought Glen would have stopped here, but because of the broken key chain. If they were handed out like candy, like Gabe said, it might not be much of a clue. But right now, it was on the short list of what they did have.

She kept walking, mentally making a note to stop back at some point. A craft store came next, quilts, yarn, threads. Tess went inside to ask, but the two old women working had not seen Glen.

The following business was the second biggest in town next to Wild Automotive: RR Bakery and Confections. The aroma here rivaled the coffee shop’s. They mostly sold commercially and supplied restaurants all over the valley with fresh, organic baked goods. Pete got his bagels and pastries from RR. Tess had eaten a few tasty things and had to admit that before RR she’d always thought organic baked goods equaled cardboard. The stuff RR sold was great.

The retail portion sold a lot of day-old stuff, some fresh, but Tess had learned you had to be an early bird because they ran out of fresh-baked items fast. She had no luck in the bakery; no one remembered seeing Glen. This side of the street ended with a large parking lot for bakery trucks, and then Hollow Drive jogged to the right and became Midas Drive as it ran along the creek for a bit.

Across the street from the bakery, on the corner of Midas and Hollow, was Rogue’s Grocery, a small market, and next door, what would have been only a food truck in California. But this place, Max’s Grill, was stationary; the wheels were gone. Max, the owner, barbecued and grilled ribs, chicken, and occasionally fish. People walked up to the window to order and ate at outside tables that faced Midas Creek. There was an area that could be shielded from the elements between the truck and the market, but Tess knew people generally preferred eating outside when weather permitted. She crossed the street and started with the food truck.

“Chief, you here to eat?” Max asked, peering at her from the order window.

Tess had eaten there once or twice. Everything was good. Because of her light breakfast her stomach growled as the smell of grilling food assaulted her nostrils, but she wasn’t ready to stop her progress through town.

“Not right now, Max. I had a couple of questions for you.”

Max was no help. Tourist traffic had kept him busy lately and he’d not seen Glen. He did know Glen, though.

“He looks after Tilly,” Max said. “I like that. I knew Tilly’s dad. It would break his heart to see her like she is now.” He shook his head. “But it would also comfort him to know that she had someone like Glen to look after her. I sometimes give them free burgers if they show up at closing. I was sorry to hear about him being killed. Hope you find the guy who did it.”

“Thanks, and I will.”

Tess continued into the market. She knew the manager was related to the mayor; they’d been introduced at her swearing in. Roger Dixon didn’t look anything like his brother. He was tall and lean, reminding Tess of an officer she used to work with who was crazy for marathons, had competed all over the world, and had the gaunt build of a long-distance runner. That was Roger Dixon, only the store manager had a little more panache.

Rico Suave came to mind, a term often used by officers she worked with to peg a guy who thought he was too good, too cool, for the cops to mess with. Roger Dixon dressed like a male model, expensive-looking clothes, tidy and perfectly pressed. His light-brown hair well groomed.

His wife, a member of the quilting club that met at the inn, likewise was always dressed impeccably. That was a little out of the ordinary. Tess had found Oregon to be a lot more casual than California, something she didn’t mind. She was more comfortable in jeans than a skirt or a suit. Most of Tess’s formal clothes, usually only donned for court, were still in storage. Even Mayor Dixon, an accountant besides being mayor, was never as dressed up as his brother, the dapper grocery store manager. The disparity between the two men made Tess wonder if one or both of them were adopted.

It was loud when you first walked into the store. The front corner was dedicated to video games and housed a mini arcade. Tess remembered that at her swearing in, Roger Dixon’s wife, Helen, who was quite a bit older than he was, had bragged to her about the arcade supported by the market.

“We want to keep children from mischief, don’t we?” she’d said. “Roger and I provide a safe place for them to interact.”

Tess had thought that arcades and video games were passé, what with cell phones and PlayStations, but you’d never know that by the crowds of kids usually packed in here. Today was no different; there certainly were a lot of kids playing games in the arcade. Briefly Tess realized that while she might have seen Kayla Reno here, she didn’t recall ever seeing Duncan Peabody. That kid definitely needed a different hobby.

She looked around the small market and saw Roger Dixon immediately. Pressed slacks and a button-down shirt covered by a vest, hair neat and held that way with a light gel, chiseled facial features, this Dixon could be on a magazine cover. He was talking to a couple of giggling girls who looked to be high school age. She caught his eye.

“Chief, are you looking for me?” Dixon said good-bye to the girls, who disappeared down an aisle. Then he smiled and walked her way, hard soles clicking on the linoleum.

He was so different from his brother.

“Mr. Dixon, I was wondering if I could ask you a couple of questions.”

“It’s Roger, and what can I help you with?”

“We had an incident yesterday—a man was murdered.”

“Glen Elders, I heard.”

“Did you know Elders?”

He nodded. “Oh yes, I knew him. I threw him out of here for shoplifting a while ago. I didn’t file a police report.” He hiked one shoulder. “I figured he got the message.”

“Had you seen him lately?”

“A few days ago, I think. He was walking toward Charlie’s. I didn’t see him go in; I just noticed him walking that direction.”

“Do you remember exactly what day that was?”

“Sorry, no.” He gave her a sympathetic look. “Days run together when you’re working, you know?”

“Yeah, I do. Thanks.” She turned to go.

“A horrible thing, this murder. Do you have any leads? Any idea who would do such a thing? Or is it difficult because you’re not from around here?”

She held his gaze for a moment while an unpleasant feeling rippled through her. Even though there was nothing in his demeanor that said it, he was mocking her.

“Murder is a horrible thing, and yes, I have every confidence we’ll solve it.”

“Good. I’m just concerned it will be difficult to solve because you’re an outsider—a qualified one, but still an outsider.”

“I’ll manage fine, Mr. Dixon. Thanks again for your help.”

Tess left the market frowning, wondering at the strange vibe she’d gotten from Dixon. He’d been nothing but cordial to her, and his wife was very nice. Maybe it was just the fact he was the mayor’s brother that gave her the bad feeling.

The local hair salon didn’t look like a place Glen would stop. It wasn’t. The women inside, though they cut men’s hair as well as women’s, hadn’t seen Glen lately.

She stopped at each remaining business and asked about Glen. Two other people saw him, but one wasn’t certain what day, and the other said the same thing Casey and Dixon had said: maybe he was heading to Charlie’s.

At the end of the paved portion of Midas Drive was Rogue’s Hollow’s only bar, The Stump. It was closed and was likely that way when Glen had walked by. It didn’t open until two in the afternoon.

She had to backtrack to cross Midas Creek and visit Charlie’s. Before she turned around, she realized Glen could have taken a hiking path from just above The Stump here that would have eventually led to the area along the creek where he’d been found. The drive she’d taken to the spot the day his body was found was quicker than the hike, but Glen was without his Jeep.

Did he take the path before he got to Charlie’s or after visiting there? The time gap bugged her. No one so far had remembered seeing him after the weekend when he dropped money off for Tilly at the Hollow Grind.

Tess paused for a moment, writing some notes before she continued down the road, then up and over the bridge to the B and B. She noticed a thin, dirty man off to the left of the Victorian’s front steps. He was smoking a cigarette and eyeballing her in a way that made her Spidey sense tingle. She’d seen him before, at the trailer park, she thought. He did landscaping and handyman work if she remembered correctly. Tess looked at him out of habit, prepared to say hello, but he turned away to walk down the steps toward the river. Odd, but not unheard of. She knew the police uniform made people nervous, often for no reason at all, but she filed a reminder to herself to find out who the man was and verify what he did for a living.

She climbed the stairs and noticed the charmingly decorated porch. There was a swinging bench that faced the confluence of the Rogue River and Midas Creek, and beautiful needlepoint pillows. The vases were empty, though, and Tess wondered about that. She’d seen Charlotte more than once at the growers’ market buying flowers.

She opened the front door to the B and B, thinking she’d see Charlotte, but instead, behind the counter was Cole. He was conversing with a man Tess recognized as Beto Acosta, owner of PSS. The conversation stopped and both men turned toward her when she walked inside.

“Chief.” Markarov held his hands up in mock surprise. “You found the bodies, and I hid them so well.” Markarov was a tall man with a head of thick dark hair that Tess was certain he dyed. He had the build of a onetime athlete—maybe baseball, possibly basketball—who’d quit playing and let himself go soft.

Acosta laughed too hard at the unfunny joke. Tess managed a smile, thinking maybe the phrase was from a movie but she couldn’t recall the name. Her contact with Cole had been limited. He hadn’t shown up at her swearing in, and the sting from the interview had dulled, so she tried not to proceed expecting him to be unpleasant.

“Mr. Markarov, Mr. Acosta, good morning.”

They both said good morning and then Acosta slapped both hands down on the counter.

“Chief, have you given any thought to that security upgrade I was telling you about?” Acosta asked. Originally from New York, his accent was thick. He reminded Tess of an uncle she had who still lived in New York. He looked more like he could be Roger Dixon’s brother than Doug Dixon. Though he had a darker complexion, he was tall and lean, always dressed professionally, with a strong jaw and dark eyes. The only glaring difference between him and Rico Suave was that his hairline was receding and most of it was graying.

“Sorry; you’ll really have to bring that up with Mayor Dixon.”

He gave a half nod. “Of course. But it would help me if you put in a good word.” His lips curled into an oily smile.

“I’ll look into the system you suggested.”

“That’s all I ask. Well, I’ve got to get back to my business. Cole, see you later.” He nodded at Tess and started to leave, then stopped. “Unless of course you need to speak to me?” He pointed at his chest with his thumb.

Tess might, at one point, talk to him about the key chain, but she didn’t want to talk to them both at the same time.

“Not right this minute. I came to speak to Mr. Markarov. You’ll be at your office later?”

“All day. See you then. Ciao.” With that he left the B and B.

“And how can I help the young lady today?” Markarov asked as the front door closed.

Ignoring the odd comment, Tess determined not to be thrown off her game. “I have a couple questions for you. I’m trying to figure out where someone was last week, Thursday specifically. Were you behind the desk then?”

“Thursday? I have to say I was. That was the day the little woman left for Portland. She’ll be back tomorrow. Until then I’m the chief cook and bottle washer.”

“Did Glen Elders come in here that day? Has he registered for a room?”

He scrunched his brows together. “Why no, I haven’t seen Glen in quite some time. He wouldn’t come here for a room. Our rates are far above his pay grade. What’s he gotten himself into this time?”

Tess frowned. The way Casey had talked . . . “I was under the impression Glen was your friend.”

“I don’t know what gave you that impression. Yes, I hire him from time to time for grunt work. That’s it.”

She considered this for a moment, then said, “He was murdered yesterday.”

That seemed to shock him. But something ruffled Tess. His response appeared almost practiced, as if he was waiting for someone to give him this news so he could act surprised.

“A murder? Here in Rogue’s Hollow?” He shook his head. “I hate to say it, but I thought this would happen.”

“What, you thought Glen would be murdered?”

“Not him specifically, but I saw this crime spree coming. No disrespect, Chief, but I feared the appointment of a woman as chief of police would embolden the criminal element in the valley. They just aren’t inclined to fear that you will be a force to be reckoned with.” His weak smile was insincere, and Tess felt the hair stand up on the back of her neck as she fought to keep her expression blank.

“Well, if that’s true, they’re mistaken. They’ll find I’m as serious about law enforcement as any man.” She turned to leave.

“Maybe so, but that’d be too late for poor Glen, wouldn’t it?”