At Rope's End (A Dr. James Verraday Mystery #1)

“No,” he replied.

“Well, I did, when I was a kid. It used to catch mice and chipmunks and leave them on our doorstep.”

“Gross.”

“It’s just an instinctive feline behavior. A form of intimacy. The cat is not only sharing its kill with what it perceives as its family, it’s encouraging its partner or offspring to join in the hunt. Do you have an alarm system?”

“No. Statistically this neighborhood has one of the lowest burglary rates in Seattle.”

“Well, statistics or not, my advice is to get one.”

“I don’t really like having strangers in my house.”

“James, that’s why people get alarms installed. Promise me you’ll do it?”

“Okay.”

“Now, I’m going to swing by Cody’s, bring him in for questioning.”

“Don’t you ever sleep?”

“Not when I’m this close.”

“Can I ride along?”

“Love to have you there, James, but it could get dangerous.”

“That’s why I want to come along.”

“I’m not going in alone. I’ll bring two uniformed officers. They’d want to know who you are, and it would raise questions. But if we crack this case, they’ll be kissing your ass down at city hall, lawsuit or not. So don’t worry. You’ll get your chance.”

“All right, but only because you say so.”

“I insist so.”

Maclean donned her Burberry coat, and Verraday held the door open for her.

“Good luck,” he said. “Let me know what happens as soon as you can.”

“I will,” she replied, touching him lightly on the shoulder as she crossed the threshold onto the front porch. “And thanks for your help.”

The solar garden lamps were dim as usual, so he turned on the porch light to help guide her down the path. He stood in the doorway, watching as she got into the Interceptor. She leaned over to the passenger’s side and, in silhouette, waved to him. He returned her gesture, then watched as she pulled away from the curb and, in typical fashion, quickly accelerated to what he guessed was several miles an hour over the speed limit. He watched her until she turned the corner at the end of the block. Only then did he close the door and turn off the porch light.

*

Verraday was about halfway through the bottle of Sicilian wine when his cell rang. It was Maclean.

“What’s up?” he asked.

“I checked out the address that Cody’s felon employment program showed as his residence.”

“You have backup with you?” Verraday asked, trying not to betray the concern in his voice but not quite pulling it off.

“I’ve already left the address. But yes, I had two patrolmen with me and I still do. The only thing missing was the suspect. The place was empty. Literally. It’s a ground-floor apartment with nothing in it. Not a stick of furniture. I called Jason Griffin twice but didn’t get an answer. We’re outside his condo now. The lights are off. I’ve been knocking on the door for the last five minutes. I sent a unit out to the airport to check on the Griffinair hangar. There was nobody there either. I’m putting out an APB on Cody North.”





CHAPTER 26


Maclean and Verraday pulled up in front of the Griffinair hangar ten minutes before its official opening time of eight AM. They got out and Maclean tried the front door, but it was locked, and there was no response from within. There were bars over the windows and blackout blinds, so it was impossible to see inside the building.

Just then the whine of approaching jet engines caught their attention. They looked around the corner of the hangar and saw an executive jet taxiing toward them from the tarmac. As the plane drew nearer, Maclean and Verraday could see Jason Griffin at the controls. The howl of the engine began to subside as he powered the plane down. Maclean waved through the chain link fence to catch his attention. He waved back, acknowledging her, and held up his index finger to indicate he’d be just a minute. They watched as the passenger compartment door opened and a small set of stairs flipped down. Jason stepped quickly out of the plane and jogged double-time toward them, opening the gate with his keycard.

“Good morning, Detective Maclean, Doctor. What can I do for you?”

Maclean was in his face the moment he stepped through the gate. “Why didn’t you tell me you knew that Cody North was a felon?”

“Because I’m sure that he had nothing to do with killing that girl. He’s reformed.”

“Really? Are you aware of exactly what this man has done to people in the past? To women?”

“Yes. The people from the program told me everything about him. But they also told me he was a good bet for going straight. And I believe in giving people a second chance. I’ve had a lot of privileges. So I felt like paying it forward was the right thing to do.”

“That’s awfully altruistic of you, Mr. Griffin.”

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