Terminal 9 by Patricia H. Rushford Page B

to pursue formal felony charges against suspects, some in custody or others considered for warrant status.
    The grand jury also had an investigative function, issuing subpoenas to compel testimony or obtain protected records that may assist in investigations into serious crimes or suspicious deaths. These protected records included financial information, medical files, and phone records. After his testimony, Mac requested subpoenas for all these records from the jury, which were granted without hesitation.
    Seven citizens from the county of venue were summonsed to serve on jury duty, as opposed to twelve in a criminal trial. In the larger Oregon counties, the jurors could expect to serve on a grand jury for up to four weeks, hearing dozens of cases. In rural Columbia County however, these jurors would only sit for a week at the longest, rarely hearing cases more severe than felony driving cases or an occasional assault. Evidence presented on a death would surely be the talk of the town once these citizens returned to their homes and jobs.
    Mac thanked the jurors and went back to the work station, where he faxed the subpoena to Kristen at the medical examiner’s office so she could request the medical records from Clay’s primary caregiver before beginning the post. While he did that, Dana requested a crime analyst from their department headquarters in Salem, who would conduct a credit search for Clay to determine where he maintained his bank accounts or other holdings.
    â€œI think that’s all we can do here, Dana,” Mac said when they’d finished their calls. “Can you think of anything else before we head over to Terminal 9?”
    Dana sighed. “Not right now. I think we should interview some of the day shifters to see what they have to say about our victim.”
    â€œMy thoughts exactly.”
    â€œYou think Mason will give us a statement?” Dana asked as they headed for Mac’s car.
    â€œOnly one way to find out.”

SEVEN
    W HEN MAC AND DANA PLLLED IN TO TERMINAL 9, through the east entrance, Mac was amazed at how many buildings and train cars were on the sprawling property. Hundreds of boxcars, many stacked two high, lined the miles of tracks within the terminal.
    â€œI didn’t realize this place was so big.” Dana peered out the passenger side window.
    â€œI was thinking the same thing.” Mac leaned forward to get a better look. “Looks like they still have a sentry on the house. There’s an officer posted in that marked car.”
    â€œLook, Mac.” Dana pointed to the deadhead line that had occupied most of their time the previous evening. “The train that hit our guy is gone. Wonder what they did with it? Didn’t we ask them to leave the scene intact?”
    â€œWe sure did.” Mac pulled into the gravel parking lot in front of the main terminal office, setting the emergency brake with a little more force than necessary. “I didn’t give the release for the train engine. Did you?”
    â€œNo way.”
    Mac frowned. “It may not be that big of a deal, but I wasn’t planning to release that train until the medical examiner got back to us with the autopsy reports. You know, in case we missed something. Besides that, I was thinking it would be a good idea to examine the scene again in daylight.”
    â€œI wonder what they did with the engine,” Dana mused. “We may be able to get it back.”
    â€œThis guy might know.” Mac gestured to a tall, thin man in coveralls, who’d just exited the building and was talking into a handheld radio.
    Mac rolled down the window and waved. “Hey.”
    The man hesitated, then walked toward the car, all the while barking orders into the handheld radio. “Yeah, what can I do ya for?” The guy didn’t seem any too pleased at being sidetracked.
    â€œCan you tell me where to find the terminal manager?” Mac yelled over the noise at the