Can you say stalling?

It was just bones. But he still didn’t like stepping foot in the building. It had that smell.

He forced himself out of his car, felt the heat slam him in the face, and put on his hat. People always asked how he could wear a hat in this heat. He liked his hat. The brim shaded his eyes and his neck, and the light straw color reflected back the sun. Without his hat the top of his head got hot.

He’d taken two steps when his phone rang. An unfamiliar number showed on the screen. Any other day he’d let it go to voice mail, but maybe this was something important. Something that needed him to get his butt there right away. Away from the ME’s building.

“Callahan,” he answered.

“Detective. This is Maxwell Brody.”

Mason instinctively stood straighter. “Yes, Senator. What can I do for you?”

“After our talk the other day, I’ve been thinking hard, trying to remember if there was anything else odd going on when Daniel disappeared.”

Here it comes again. Mason closed his eyes. There was always something the family held back, feeling it was none of the police’s business or had an aspect too embarrassing to reveal. What in the hell had the senator waited twenty years to talk about?

“I had to go back to my calendar. In my type of position, there’s always a permanent calendar, a permanent record of what I’d done that day.”

Mason heard another male voice speaking in the background.

“Hang on, Detective.” The senator’s voice was muffled as he answered the other male. He came back on the line. “I’m sorry. My brother, Phillip, is here. He’s been helping me review my calendar and diaries from that time.”

Mason stood straighter, fighting the need to remove his hat. The governor was there, too? This was what you’d call a power phone call.

“A few months before Daniel vanished, I started having problems with…well, I guess you’d call it a stalker.”

Mason’s ears perked up.

“I always associate the word stalker with a woman being followed, but I don’t know how else to describe what I had to deal with. It started simple. The usual crap in the mail. Bullshit letters. The kind of stuff we roll our eyes at but always date-stamp and file away. Just in case.”

“What type of letter would you call a bullshit letter?” Mason asked.

“Oh, stuff like he hated my policies, I don’t remember which in particular. Someone always hated everything. The eye of God is upon me. I’m not doing God’s will, or I’m leading the people away from the path of righteousness.”

“A religious fanatic,” Mason stated.

“Believe me, I’ve heard them all. You can’t survive in this position without a very thick skin. I don’t engage the odd ones. You get a feel for it after a while. You instinctively know who isn’t playing with a full deck, and you don’t engage.”

“This was a half-decker?” Mason heard the senator snort and then turn to repeat the question to his brother. Low laughter rumbled in the background.

He’d made the governor laugh. A proud moment.

“Definitely a half-decker. Anyway, the letters came more frequently, and then the phone calls to the office started. His message was always the same. ‘God will punish you.’ Like I said, I don’t remember which issue he believed God had it in for me. I ignored it until the calls started going to the house.”

“Do you know how he got your phone number?”

“No, I never figured that out. But then he started showing up outside the building at work, then at the house. He must have followed me home one night.”

“Shit. No kidding? You called the police, right?”

“Of course. He left by the time they showed up. He never came up to the front door, but I saw him pacing outside the gate. You’ve been to the house; you know the iron gate at the walkway entry to the yard.”

Mason remembered the gate. He’d had to hit a buzzer to get a maid’s attention and then show his badge and ID to the camera before she’d unlock the gate.

“He didn’t ring the buzzer?”

“No. We didn’t have the buzzer and cameras at that time. He could have easily pushed the gate open and walked up to the house, but he didn’t. We added them soon after Daniel vanished.”

“So why do you associate this guy with your son’s disappearance?”

The senator was quiet for a moment. “I guess it’s the timing more than anything. And his phrasing that God will punish me. I don’t know what punishment is stronger than the death of a child.”

Governor Brody spoke low in the background.

“I’m getting to it, Phil,” the senator said. “Detective, this guy was arrested for trespassing at the capitol building, so there is a record of who he is. But after his arrest, I never saw him again. I haven’t contacted Salem police to try to track down the arrest record. I thought I’d run it by you first.”

Mason scribbled in his little flip book. “I’ll look into it. You said this happened within a few months of…of the disappearance date? How close to the date do you think the arrest was?”

“I’m guessing within four weeks.”

Mason wrapped up his power phone call. The senator didn’t have much other information. He scanned his notes from the call, an odd buzzing in his stomach. It wasn’t the buzz he got when he knew he had a hot lead. This was different. This was a dire, impending buzz.