Deadly Stillwater

Mac parked behind the detached garage in the alley behind a well-kept blue rambler with white trim. The owner of the home, and the man who called in, was Patrick Hall. Others would be joining the party shortly, but for now Burton was holding them back several blocks, letting Mac and the rest in first to get the lay of the land. Riley and Mac called from the Explorer, and Hall picked up on the second ring. The homeowner was in bed with a broken leg, but directed them to a spare key underneath the bottom of his “piece-of-shit” air conditioner.

Riles found the key in a little black magnetized key box. The detectives let themselves in the back door and entered the kitchen. They noticed the heat immediately.

“Now I know why he called the AC a piece of shit,” Riley noted.

Mac called out to announce their presence, and they heard an “in here” from the front of the house. There they found Hall, lying in bed, a cast encasing the entire length of his left leg. To say the man looked uncomfortable was an understatement.

“Man, you have got to get your air conditioning fixed,” Mac said, noting both Hall’s sweaty appearance and the impact of the heat on his own body after just a few minutes in the house.

“I hear ya,” the man answered. “I really need a new one, but with me laid up and all, we’re trying to watch what we spend.”

“Try Craig’s List. You could get a window unit for cheap at least.”

Riles got down to business. “So what’s the deal with this house across the street?”

“Like I said to the gal on that tip line, these guys have been around, ok, I’d say the last four or five days, I guess. My wife said they started showing up the day I got hurt. I broke this leg of mine five days ago and got back home three days ago. I haven’t been out of the bed much since.”

“So you’ve been watching these guys across the street then?” Mac asked, casually pulling the curtain back to sneak a peek out the window.

“I wouldn’t say watching,” Hall said, shaking his head. “I’d say I’ve noticed them coming and going in vans is all.”

“How often?” Riles asked, walking over to the other side of the window. The house was across the street and to the right, a single-story home similar to Hall’s in a neighborhood of similar homes. It was gray, with faded burgundy trim and shutters and a high wood privacy fence around the backyard.

“Hard to say really,” Hall answered, “other than often enough that I noticed them coming and going is all.”

Mac turned to Hall and away from the window, “You said you’ve noticed them. What have you noticed?”

“Such as?” Hall asked.

“Men? Women? Height? Weight? What did they look like?”

“I never really got a good look at anyone,” Hall replied.

“How come?” Mac asked, confused.

“I figured you guys were going to ask that,” the man replied, wiping his forehead with a towel and taking a drink of water. “These guys were coming with vans, backing them into the garage and closing the door. Or, they open the door and leave. Nobody ever walked around outside that I can recall. At least not that I ever saw.”

“You never saw them at all?”

“Not really.”

“Detective McRyan asked whether they were men or women?” Riles asked.

“Men, I’d say.”

“Did you ever notice what they were wearing?” Mac inquired.

“Baseball caps for the most part. Dark shirts usually. Sunglasses and…”

Hall paused and Mac looked back at him. “And what?”

The man closed his eyes for a minute. “There was something else now that I think of it. I saw, or I remember seeing, once or twice, and I just thought it was odd since it’s been so hot.” Hall sat still, his head back against the pillow, closing his eyes. After a few seconds, a smile spread across his face, “Gloves. They wore gloves.”

“Gloves?” Riles asked.

“Yeah, when they drove the vans, they had gloves on. You know black leather gloves, like you might wear in the winter.”

Mac and Riles exchanged a quick look. He was maybe onto something. The kidnappers had yet to leave a print behind, and black leather gloves this time of year were unusual. Plus, two other witnesses to the abductions mentioned gloves in their descriptions. Some people liked to wear gloves when they drove, but not many.

“Was it one guy wearing gloves or more than one?” Mac asked.

“Not totally sure. I mean, I couldn’t tell one from the other. I do know that I noticed gloves more than once.”

“So these guys wore dark shirts, hats, and gloves. Anything else?” Mac pressed.

“Not really. At least nothing I recall right now.”

“Just vans?” Riles asked, tacking a different direction.

“Yeah, for the most part. I might have seen a car once, parked in the driveway overnight, but other than that, pretty much just vans.”

Mac looked back from the window. “What kind of vans?”

“Those panel kinds of vans.”

“Get any license plates?”

“No,” Hall answered, shaking his head.

“How about just what states the plates were from?”

Hall shook his head again.

“Always the same vans?” Mac asked, pushing.