Walk the Wire (Amos Decker #6)(91)
Decker ran his gaze over the Caddy’s interior. “Any signs that someone else was recently here? Tire marks? Another vehicle seen coming or going during the relevant times?”
“No, nothing like that. But considering everything that’s happened so far, I think we need to go slow on this. Because while it sure looks like a suicide, for the life of me I can’t imagine what his motive would be. The facts are that McClellan is rich as shit, just bought out his rival, and had this entire town in his pocket. Maybe a lifelong dream of his, for all I know. So right after completing that, and maybe, like Alex suggested, celebrating his triumph, he drives out here and sucks on a tailpipe to finish off the best day of his life? Tell me how that makes sense.”
“I agree with you,” said Decker.
“Who’s doing the post?” asked Jamison.
“The guy who came up to do Walt’s isn’t available.”
“Let me call someone in from the Bureau to do it,” said Decker.
“I appreciate that.”
Decker pulled a pair of latex gloves from his jacket pocket, slapped them on, and leaned into the Caddy. He felt one of the dead man’s arms. “He’s clearly in rigor. So roughly twelve hours or more. Ambient temp in here is average. But if he burned through a full tank of gas after he died, it might’ve gotten pretty hot in here.”
“Definitely could have sped up the rigor initiation and body decomp,” pointed out Jamison.
Kelly said, “That’s going to be important because we need to establish alibis.”
“So any idea where Hugh Dawson is?”
“You’re thinking Hugh had something to do with this?”
“If he was the last person to see McClellan before he died, I have some questions to ask the man. And the sooner the better.”
ONE PHONE CALL found Hugh Dawson at his home. Kelly, Decker, and Jamison arranged to meet him out there that night. They didn’t tell him why.
The maid led them to his office, where he rose from behind his desk to greet them.
He looked anxiously at Kelly. “Is it true? Is Stuart really dead?”
“How’d you hear about that?” said Kelly imperturbably.
“Hell, it’s all over. My maid told me. She heard it from her boyfriend who works for McClellan.”
“It is true,” said Decker.
“How’d he die?”
Decker said, “He was found dead in his car. Looks like carbon monoxide poisoning. The same way your wife died,” he added, drawing sharp looks from both Jamison and Kelly.
Dawson plopped back down in his chair. “Holy Lord.”
“We understand you had dinner with McClellan last night,” said Kelly.
“That’s right, at Maddie’s.”
“Did he pick the place?” asked Jamison.
“Uh . . .” He glanced at Kelly.
“I know about the deal,” Kelly said.
“Okay. To answer your question, it was his idea. Now that he owns it.”
“And have you told Caroline yet?” asked Kelly sternly.
“I’m going to meet with her and tell her.”
“Can I ask why you sold out?” said Kelly. “Jamison said you told her you just wanted to cash out. Last time I was here you were upbeat about things. Buying properties. Caroline opened her restaurant and everything.”
“I also talked about the downsides to fracking. And I’m just tired, Joe. Been doing this for nearly forty years.”
“What are you going to do?” Kelly asked.
“Buying a place in France. Only a lot bigger than the one I had before. Got a guesthouse for Caroline large enough for the kiddies when they come along.”
“I wouldn’t count on that,” said Kelly. “You basically sold out her life from under her.”
“I don’t see it that way,” he said crossly.
“Then you’re choosing not to see.”
“I know you were very close growing up—hell, there was a time there when I thought you two would walk down the aisle. But this is none of your damn business.”
“Okay, then let me get back to what is my business. When was the last time you saw McClellan?”
“When we left the restaurant.”
“Give us the details.”
“It was around eleven. He got in his car and I got in mine. I drove back here.”
“Can anyone corroborate that?” asked Decker.
“No. Everybody here had gone home long before then. It was just me.”
“So nobody can vouch for your whereabouts?” asked Kelly.
“Wait a minute. Are you implying—? Why the hell would I want to kill Stuart McClellan? He just paid me a great deal of money.”
Jamison interjected, “We’re just trying to learn about timelines and alibis, Mr. Dawson. It’s all routine.”
“Well it sure doesn’t come across as routine. Where was Stuart found? At his place?”
“No,” said Kelly.
“And you said it was carbon monoxide poisoning? Could it have been an accident? Like Maddie?”
Decker said, “No, it was clearly deliberate. Can you think of any reason why he would commit suicide?”
Dawson considered this for a few moments. “Not a single one. He stood to make a great deal more money now that he had combined his businesses with mine. He could merge the back-end offices, eliminate redundancies, and increase his cash flow. He was sitting pretty. So why would he kill himself?”