SUMMATION (32 page)

           
Another
squad car pulled up, lights flashing, but no siren. Ruger watched the car
quickly stop at an angle to the curb, as a young officer, a new one she
recognized, but couldn't remember the name of, hopped out.
Red lights? What's
the hurry? These people are already dead
.

The young
officer looked around until he spotted Ruger near the garage, and walked
quickly over. "Detective Ruger? Detective?"                                             

            "Yes, that's me. Can I help you?"

            "I'm glad I caught you. We just got a
call from the coroner's office. The captain sent me over direct. Didn't want to
do it over the radio. It's about Mr. McCulloch, the father of the guy who got
murdered. We just got a call that he was missing."

            "What do you mean, 'missing'?"

            "What I was told, was, this Mr.
McCulloch had had a serious stroke a few years ago. Couldn't talk, barely able
to communicate, and not able to walk. Pretty much completely out of it."

            "So he's unable to leave on his own?"

            "From what I'm told, yes. Someone
would have to take him out of the building."

            "When was this?"

            "They're not sure yet - checking some
logs. Plus, sometimes someone is just parked in some other room, or wanders
into another room, and they can't find him. Or someone's too lazy to look."

            "Best guess?

            "Early morning. Probably right after
breakfast."

            "And we got the call when?"

            "A couple of hours ago. They didn't
put it together right away. Usually they don't get too excited about these calls
- sometimes people forget to sign someone out when they leave, stuff like that,
so they didn't call right away."

            "Who else knows about this?"

            "I'm not sure. The Captain, of
course, the nursing home, you. I don't know."

            "Does the family know?"

             "Oh, that's the other thing. The
nursing home said they had tried to contact Mr. McCulloch's son, but hadn't
reached him yet." He glanced at the house. "I guess we know why, now."
Looking back at Ruger, he continued. "They were about to try to contact
the grandson, but hadn't reached him yet, either. So as far as we know, the
grandson doesn't even know his grandfather is missing. No other family that we
know of. At least not close family. Anyway, in answer to your question, I don't
think he knows yet."

            "Have we notified any other agencies?"

            "Captain was sitting on it right now.
He said he wanted to wait to see what you got first, get a little more
information. He was holding off on calling the FBI until he talked to you."

            She stood there for a moment, deciding how
she was going to handle this. She would have to walk pretty carefully between,
or more likely on, the lines. She looked down at the road where the grandson
was waiting.
Was he involved? Or just another victim
?

            She was going to have to have a very interesting
talk with the youngest Mr. McCulloch. Or should she say, the
only
Mr.
McCulloch.

           
She
turned and began slowly walking towards the street, eyebrows deeply furrowed,
going over the questions in her mind.

            Now
, she thought grimly,
this is going to be fun
.                                                       

            Detective Ruger stopped and turned back to
the young officer. Glancing down at the young officer's name tag, she stepped
closer to him, to keep her voice low. "Tell you what, officer Roberts. 
Grab that officer over there," she pointed to one of the cops standing by
near the street to keep onlookers away, and escort Mr. McCulloch over to my
vehicle. I'll talk to him there. I want the two of you to stand by while we
talk. Not hovering over him, just nearby, alright?"

            "Yes ma'am," he replied.  He
looked around for a moment. "Ma'am?"

            "Yes?"

            "Um, which one is Mr. McCulloch, and
which car is yours?"

            She rolled her eyes, then remembered he
was new. She pointed both out, then headed for her car. While walking, she
called the Captain's office, using the number she kept on speed dial.

            "Captain Rutherford."

            "Cap, it's Ruger."

            "Get my message? I couldn't get
through on your phone, and I wanted you to know ASAP."

            "Hmmm. Not sure why the call didn't
go through. My phone was on me, and on.  Anyway, yeah, I got it. Anything new?
Any more on this guy McCulloch? I mean, the one in the nursing home?"

            The two officers approached with the
grandson. Ruger held up her index finger and mouthed "
just a moment"
to them.

            "From what I have, he was pretty much
demented, minimally-responsive, non-communicative other than jibberish, and
non-mobile, except maybe standing enough to transfer into a wheelchair since a
bad stroke a couple of years ago." He paused. He doesn't have any assets,
according to his information. That all went to his family years ago. No ransom
note or call. Only family left, it looks like, is the grandson. He already gets
his parents stuff, I assume, so not much incentive for him. Facility says he
was frequently up visiting, anyway. Pretty close, they said. I don't want to
make any announcements or calls until you have a chance to check things out
there."

            "Good idea. The grandson just got
here. I'll let you know what happens. Give me a call if you find anything that
I can use."

            "Of course. Talk to you later."
Click
.

            She snapped the phone back into its case
on her belt and turned to McCulloch, extending her hand. "Mr. McCulloch? I'm
Detective Kate Ruger." He shook her hand. She could feel he was nervous,
almost trembling.

            She opened the front passenger door. "Would
you like to have a seat? I can just stand right here and we can talk for a
moment.  He nodded and sat down. She got down on one knee to put herself at his
level. Although already sitting, he put his left hand on her dashboard, as if
to steady himself, to keep from falling. His right hand was clenched on his
knee. He looked up at her.

            She got down on one knee, closer to eye
level, in front of him. "Mr. McCulloch, I'm afraid I have some bad news,
and there's no easy way to tell you." She looked him straight in the eye. 
"I'm sorry, but it appears that both your parents were killed by an
intruder." She paused, waiting for his reaction. She saw him clench his
knee even tighter, and she thought the fingers of his left hand were about to
puncture the dashboard, he was gripping it so forcefully.

            He glanced up toward the house, then back
at her. "Wha- What exactly happened? I heard something on the radio, and
tried to call. I couldn't get through..." He looked back at the house, his
voice trailing off.

She waited
until he looked back at her. "We don't know exactly, yet, but apparently
an intruder came in, and shot them both. We've just started our investigation,
of course." She stopped again, giving him some time to absorb what she was
saying.

            "But why? What did he want? Why shoot
them? Why not just take what he wanted?"

            "I don't know. Not yet. I know you
have lots of questions, and so do we." She paused a moment, waiting til
she had his attention again.  "First, is there someone you can call, or
need to call? Wife, relative? Friend? It's better to have someone with you
right now. Can I call someone for you?

            "I'm not married. I'm an only child.
It's just me. Me and granddad, now. But he's in a nursing home." A thought
crossed his mind, and he quickly looked up. "My granddad - he doesn't
know, does he? I mean, he's basically completely out of it, but every once in a
while... I don't think we should say anything to him, not just yet, anyway. I
don't know if he understands, but..."

            She nodded in agreement.
Just me and
granddad now
, she noted.

            "Anyone else? A friend, or neighbor?

            "Yeah. Mike. Mike Peters. He's a
friend of mine."

            "Would you like me to call, or do
you-"

            "I'm okay. I can call him." He
pulled out his phone and looked down. It looked like he was having a hard time
dialing, then she noticed him trying to wipe his eyes without anyone noticing.
He pressed a single key and held it a moment, before bringing the phone to his
ear. He held it, silent, for quite a while before he spoke.

            She looked away, but listened to the call.

            "Mike - Mark. It's important. Real
important. Can you meet me at my parents' house right away? Something's
happened. I'll tell you when you get here. Call me. Thanks, buddy." He put
the phone away and looked up again. "Voice mail."

            "That's fine. Just a few quick
questions - I hate to bother you at this time, but there are some things we
need to check, and the sooner the better. Are you okay with that?"

            "Of course. Whatever I can do, of
course."

            "First, and most obvious, is there
anyone, anyone at all that you can think of that might want to harm your
parents?

            His eyebrows puckered and he put on a
crooked half smile, shaking his head. "They were semi-retired. Mom didn't
work anymore, dad had pretty much sold most of the business, wasn't too
involved with things at the plant any more. They had a little money, but not
that much. They donated a lot of it. There's some in trust for me, and they put
some aside for any grandkids."

            She looked at him questioningly.

            "No, no. There's nothing going on,"
he answered quickly. "I meant later on, someday. Not now."

            She nodded, understanding.

            He looked down, shaking his head. "There
just wasn't any reason to kill them." He looked up at her again. "Do
you have any idea who it was? Or why?"

            "No, I'm afraid not. Not yet. Of
course, we're just starting. That's why I wanted to check with you first, get a
head start if you had any information." She paused a moment. "No
threats? No problems with anyone that you know of?"

            "No, nothing. I probably would have
heard. I'm sure I would've heard - they'd have told me if there was anything
important, or any problems."

            Time to give him some more
, she thought.                            

            Again, she nodded, and paused, looking at
him intently. "I'm afraid there's more, Mr. McCulloch."

            "More? What do you mean, more? Both
my parents were just killed. What do mean, more?" He looked at her,
unbelieving, but his hands once again grabbed the dashboard and knee.

            "It's your grandfather. I was just on
the phone as you walked up a moment ago. It seems that your grandfather is
missing."

            He cocked his head, puzzled. "Missing?"

            "He's been missing since sometime
after breakfast. They thought it was possible he might have left with someone
and forgotten to sign out. Do you know anything about that?"

            His eyes opened widely in surprise.

            "Missing? He can't just walk out. He
can't do anything on his own." He looked down, and around, as if the
answer would be found lying there on the ground. "He has a few friends
that visit, but they're all old, too. They aren't able to take him out of the
building. He's in a wheelchair. So no one would take him. They couldn't.
Besides, he's not aware of much. It would do no good. Even I didn't take him
out of the building. Not anymore."

            He shook his head. "Are they sure he's
not in the building? Did they take him by ambulance to a doctor visit?"

            "Was he scheduled for one?" 

            "Not that I know of... no, I don't
think so. I can't imagine where he..."

            He looked up quickly at Ruger. "Are
you saying- are you saying he was
taken? Kidnapped?
"

            She thought he looked even more pained,
more shocked, than on hearing of his parents murders, but, on the other hand,
he'd probably expected bad news when he drove up to squad cars, and with the
coroner's and crime scene's wagons present, he'd had some time to start
registering what he was undoubtedly going to find out.

            The grandfather, on the other hand, was a
complete surprise.

"Why?" he repeated plaintively. "You
think it's related to
this
?" he asked, nodding towards the house.

            "Again, we have no idea. I just got
the call."

            He continued slowly shaking his head,
mumbling
why, why, why
under his breath.

"Are you okay, Mr. McCulloch? Mr. McCulloch?"
She waited a moment, then put a hand on his knee. "Are you okay?"

            He stopped his motion, again looking at
her. "I'm sorry. I'm okay. It's just, just..."

            "I understand. You don't have to
apologize. Or explain." She stood up, finally stretching her legs, stiff
from the awkward position. "You sit here for a bit. I'll be back in a few
minutes."

He nodded, looking down again.

            She stepped around to the rear of the car.
"Roberts?"

            "Yes ma'am?"

            "Keep an eye on him here. If he looks
like he's going to pass out, have him lie down. I don't think he's anyone of
interest, but he's had a couple of pretty bad shocks, so just watch him. A
friend of his may come to get him, name of Peters. Last name Peters. Come get
me when he gets here."

            "Yes ma'am."

            "You know, Roberts, you're beginning
to make me feel old with all that yes, ma'am and no ma'am shit."

            "Sorry ma'am. I mean, sorry."

            "No problem. Just keep an eye on him."

            "Yes ma'– okay. Will do."

            She walked back up the drive to see how
things were going, taking the long way around to get a look at the outside of
the house, the backyard, garage. The entry was obvious. The back door had been
kicked in. The door was heavy, but she could see boot prints where it had been
kicked several times near the door knob, where the wood had finally given way.
Three heel prints. Three kicks. Enough to give them some warning, but not much.
The tech was dusting the screen door as she entered.

            "Anything?" she asked.

            "Plenty here on the door, but-"

            "I know. Have to eliminate all the
legit ones." She went through, joining the others in cataloging the items
strewn around the room. She'd been at it for perhaps fifteen minutes when her
phone rang. She answered with a curt. "Ruger," paused a moment, then
said, "I'll be right down". She looked through the window at a
slender man, about her age, standing at the car door, speaking with McCulloch.
She watched for a moment, trying to get a feel for the two. She headed down the
drive again."

            She approached the two men by her car. "Hello.
I'm Detective Ruger. Thanks for coming."

            Mark stood up and cut in.  "Detective,
this is Dr. Mike Peters, from the University. We've been friends ever since I
took a class with him some seven or eight years ago"

            She held out her hand. "Nice to meet
you, Dr. Peters." He had a firm grip. Didn't look like a college
professor. Not any like she remembered.

            "Mike, please. Nice to meet you, too.                                                

            "Mike, thanks for coming down. I
assume Mr. McCulloch has filled you in on what we know so far?"

            He nodded. "I can't believe it. I don't
know what to say."

            She turned to Mark, who was out of the
car, standing, but holding onto the car door. "Mr. McCulloch, I've been
thinking. Just as a precaution, perhaps you shouldn't stay at your home for a
few days. I have no idea what's going on, but until then, there's always the
possibility, remote, I'm sure, but possibility that you could be a target."