Free Stone Cold by Dean Crawford Page A

‘Let’s just focus on the case, okay? Let Stone handle my head.’
    ‘How’s it going with her?’
    ‘It’s not, and that’s just the way I like it.’
    ‘She’s trying to help.’
    ‘She’s interfering and I don’t need help. I just need people to stop asking me damned questions about how I am all the time.’
    The sound of footsteps outside the door silenced them, and the door opened as Dale McKenzie walked in.
    Griffin placed a lot of faith in first appearances. McKenzie was tall, with dark hair and a tan that suggested either mixed parentage or foreign origin. But what interested Griffin more was McKenzie’s mannerisms and state of mind: the man was an airline pilot, an occupation of great responsibility, but McKenzie’s uniform was somewhat hastily arranged as though he’d rushed to the meeting, and his hair was somewhat in disarray. His gaze was quick but nervous, as though caught off balance. All of this Griffin took in at a glance and put down to the extraordinary circumstances McKenzie had suddenly found himself in.
    ‘Mister McKenzie, thanks for seeing us. This is my partner, Detective Maietta.’
    McKenzie nodded at Maietta as the door was closed behind him, his gaze switching between the two detectives.
    ‘Have you found her yet?’
    ‘Nothing yet I’m afraid,’ Griffin admitted, noting that McKenzie’s first question and concern regarded his wife’s welfare. ‘But we’re already doing everything we can. Please take a seat, sir.’
    ‘What’s everything ?’ McKenzie demanded as he sat down.
    Griffin sat down opposite McKenzie, Maietta staying where she was, leaning against the wall.
    ‘We’ve got a team of six officers working the case,’ Griffin assured the pilot. ‘I’m leading the investigation with my partner Maietta, who is talking to other law enforcement agencies.’
    McKenzie seemed satisfied with this, but he was wringing his hands.
    ‘Okay, let’s get started Mister McKenzie,’ Griffin said.
    ‘Dale.’
    ‘Dale, okay, good. Have you heard anything at all from Sheila’s abductors?’
    ‘Nothing,’ McKenzie replied. ‘I’ve had my cell with me at all times but there have been no calls at all.’
    ‘Okay, I want you to walk us through everything that happened this morning. Every little detail.’
    McKenzie sighed. ‘I already went through everything with the sergeant over the phone.’
    ‘Humour us,’ Griffin insisted. ‘The more sure we are that nothing’s been overlooked the quicker we can move forward with the investigation. Anything, even the tiniest detail, can change everything in the first forty–eight hours of an abduction.’
    McKenzie nodded and reluctantly began relating the morning’s events. Truth was, Griffin had already read the sergeant’s report three times and had every single moment of Dale McKenzie’s morning mapped out in his mind. Griffin wasn’t expecting new details because there wasn’t much to go on in the first place, but he did want to see if McKenzie changed anything, altered his story in any way.
    McKenzie went through the description of his return flight, journey home, finding the note and calling the police on his cell. There wasn’t much to relate, really, and he stuck to his story. No deviation from the details, no tells in his demeanour that suggested to Griffin that he was telling anything other than the absolute truth.
    ‘Would anybody you know of wish to hurt your wife in any way?’ Griffin asked when McKenzie had finished. ‘Does she have any enemies, any old boyfriends, people like that who might hold a grudge?’
    ‘No,’ McKenzie replied without a moment’s hesitation. ‘She’s a hugely successful lady. That’s what attracted me to her in the first place.’
    ‘Your wife is the owner of an art gallery in the city, pretty high–class stuff, some international trade.’
    ‘Yes,’ McKenzie said, staring into his coffee. ‘I appreciate fine arts, but it’s Sheila’s passion in life. She’s been