Ghost River

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Ghost River Page 9

by Jon Coon


  Scattered over the table were stacks of floppy disks and spiral notebooks. On the wall notes were thumbtacked to the studs. Gabe glanced through the piles and tried to figure out what Greenly had been doing. There were several charts with names and dates, which at first glance looked like work schedules. On the floor were two metal file boxes full of inspection reports. Some had been removed and set aside. Gabe gathered up the loose reports and asked if he could take the boxes. Helen agreed, and they started back down the ladder with the first box. After putting it in his truck, he returned for the second one.

  Helen followed him out to the truck as he was loading it. “That’s strange,” she said as Gabe opened the hatch on the Ford and put in the file boxes.

  “What’s that?” Gabe responded.

  “My husband kept an old .22 pistol on a shelf in the sitting room. I didn’t want it in the house, so the compromise was a box in the attic. It belonged to his dad, and he didn’t want it sold.”

  “Do you remember what kind?”

  “Does Colt Woodsman sound right? It was still in the box with two clips.”

  “Could be. Do you think Zack has it, then?”

  “He must have it. But he certainly didn’t ask me if he could take it.”

  Gabe was silent. Knowing Zack was armed complicated the situation.

  “Did you ever meet my husband?” Helen asked.

  He stalled thinking, quite recently actually, then answered, “I didn’t join the patrol until after his accident. But from what you’ve told me, I think we’d have been friends.”

  “Yes. Sometimes Richard wasn’t very bright, but he had a good heart. Better than mine I suppose. He would have liked you. I can see that.”

  “Mrs. Greenly, one more question. What did the department tell you about the circumstances of Richard’s death?”

  “They said he was diving alone from the shore, which was against department policy. No one had authorized the dive, and his body was never recovered. The divers looked for several days, but nothing.”

  “Do you remember the name of the investigator?”

  “Oh, yes, he was very nice. It was Wesley Rogers, the lead diver on Richard’s bridge inspection team. He came to visit several times after Richard’s death. Just to check up on us.”

  “Wesley Rogers. Interesting,” Gabe said and made a note in his pocket pad. “What do you think happened to Richard, Helen?”

  “Richard was impulsive. He’d get some crazy idea and be halfway over the moon before I could stop him. His argument with my dad was just insane. My dad would never do anything illegal. He was a legend in that department. They named buildings after him.”

  “But what do you think happened to him? Your husband, I mean.”

  “I think he made another stupid mistake. He never listened to anyone, especially me.”

  Gabe let that pass.

  “How much trouble are they in? The kids? I’m afraid Zack is too much like his father. He got the idea in his head that he had to find out what happened to his dad, and he couldn’t let it go.” It was her first indication of concern.

  “Another good man is dead, and his family is devastated,” Gabe said. “Are they responsible for that? Probably not.” Gabe turned away thinking about his last meeting with Paul and the ruin of Carol’s family. “Do they have some responsibility for what’s happened? Definitely. You all do. Now as to what the court’s going to do, I honestly don’t know. But the quicker they get back here and start talking the better it’s going to be for all of us.” He closed the lid on the truck bed and turned back to her. “Just one more question. Do you remember Richard mentioning a Wilson Corbitt? He worked for the demolition company.”

  “Wilson Corbitt? No, that’s not a name I recall. Why do you ask?” Her eyes met Gabe’s, and then she turned abruptly away. Gabe caught the twinge of her eyebrow at the mention of Corbitt’s name.

  “He’s just someone I’m trying to find.”

  “Oh.”

  Gabe waited for Paul to get home from school before returning to Carol’s. She greeted him at the door and held it for him as he carried in the first of the large gray metal file boxes. “There’s another one in the truck. I don’t want these at the office yet. Too many eyes, and I want Paul’s help going through this stuff.”

  “I’ll get him,” she replied. “We can set up a table in the den.”

  Paul came reluctantly down the stairs. “Hey, Gabe, sorry about last night. I really lost it.”

  “Don’t know if I could have handled it any better, Paul. After what we’ve all been through it’s hard to keep from losing it once in a while.” Gabe smiled and offered his hand. Paul took it, and the handshake turned into a hug.

  “So what’s up?”

  “Homework. Remember I told you about Zack’s dad who was a state diver? Zack’s mother said her husband had a blow-up with her dad, the bridge engineer. Could be that’s what started this mess. Like I told you, the killings are connected, and Zack could be in real danger if what he found implicates Peterson or his pals. Good so far?”

  “Good. Do you know where he and Mickey are?”

  “Mickey’s mother said she has an apartment off campus at Emory. I got the address, and I insisted their parents tell them to come home immediately. That may have been a mistake. I think we should go up and get them.”

  “What are we looking for here?” Paul was focused on the file boxes and had missed Gabe’s comment about going to get Zack and Mickey. He had the lid off the first box and was thumbing through the files. His mother was standing in the doorway behind him listening. She smiled at Gabe. Gabe nodded. The transformation of Paul’s attitude was apparent.

  “Whatever we can find on the I-10 bridge. I expect that will be toward the end of the reports, so let’s start at the most recent and work our way back. I don’t know exactly what we’re looking for, but let’s watch out for two things: deltas, that’s what the military calls discrepancies, anything that doesn’t fit. And we need to find the contractors who built them. My guess is this is about more than just one bridge. Let’s separate the files based on the builders. Look for those deltas and similarities. I need you to do this and keep it under wraps. I’ll talk to Zack and Mickey. We need to keep them safe while we figure this out. Call me if you find anything. Your mom has my cell number.”

  Carol followed Gabe back out to his truck. As he was opening the door, she took his arm and stopped him before he climbed in.

  “Gabe, thanks. He needed that, but why aren’t you taking the files into the department?”

  “Captain Brady said this could go way up the food chain, and whatever it was he had to tell us got him killed. I think it’s best to keep it to ourselves until we know what we’re up against.”

  “Then are you sure it’s safe for us to have that stuff here?”

  “Helen Greenly is the only one who knows I’ve got those files, and she doesn’t know where I’ve taken them, so we should be good.”

  “Okay. If you say so.”

  Gabe’s cell rang as he backed out of the driveway.

  Mrs. Eberly, Mickey’s mother, was upset. “I talked with Mickey, and they’re afraid to come home. I told her they have to, but I’m worried they might run. Zack wants to talk to you. Mickey gave me a number.”

  Gabe pulled his truck to the curb and got out his pocket notepad. “I’m ready.”

  She gave him the number, and he placed the call.

  “Zack, this is Officer Gabe Jones. Are you and Mickey okay?”

  “Yes, look, I’m really sorry. I never thought anyone would get hurt. I just wanted to know—”

  “I understand. A lot is happening here, Zack, and I’m still playing catch up. It wasn’t your fault that officer Evans died, but I’m certain his death is connected to your dad’s death. What can you tell me?”

  “I don’t understand all of it either. In his notebook Dad said Wilson Corbitt knew the bridge wasn’t to spec. Corbitt had been studying the blueprints. He told my dad, wh
o suspected my grandfather was behind it.

  “Dad told Wilson not to go to dear old Granddad, but Wilson didn’t listen. After the bridge collapsed and Wilson disappeared, my dad went to see Grandpa. That’s when they had the big fight. It was only a few days after that Dad was killed.”

  “I have your dad’s inspection files. Can you tell me where to look?”

  “There were only two reports on the I-10 bridge because it was so new. But there was something weird. The two reports about the I-10 and several reports of the other bridges were identical. I mean photocopy identical. The only difference was the dates. And they were all signed by the same guy.”

  “Who was that?”

  “Sergeant Wesley Rogers. In Dad’s notebook, when he mentioned Rogers, he drew dollar signs, some of them big. He also wrote on one-page blueprints, in big letters with exclamation points.”

  “Zack, do you think your grandfather has a hand in this?”

  “According to his journal my dad was sure of it. One more thing: after the big argument between Dad and my grandfather, Mom and Dad had a big fight. She must have really ripped into him because he wrote some ugly stuff about her in the journal. When I asked her about it she got mad and unloaded on me for reading it. She called Dad ungrateful and said after all Grandpa had done for us Dad should have minded his own business.”

  “Zack, does your mom know you have that notebook?”

  “Oh yeah; she tried to take it away from me.”

  “Okay, then I don’t want you to go home. I’ll come up and get you, and we’ll find you somewhere safe down here. I want you two where I can keep an eye on you until this is over. Agreed?”

  “Do you really think we will be safer down there?”

  “Whatever this is, at least two men have been killed. Based on what you’ve told me, I have to believe someone who doesn’t want you talking is going to come looking for you. When that happens, there’s nothing I can do to protect you up there, but I can protect you here. That’s the deal, okay?”

  “When can you come?” Zack asked.

  “Can you be ready to leave tomorrow? I’ll drive up first thing in the morning.”

  “How much trouble are we in?”

  “Not in as much as if the guys who killed your dad and Charlie Evans come after you. Let’s get you safe. Then we can sort out the rest.”

  “Okay. Just one more thing, officer. It wasn’t Mickey’s fault. It was my idea. I talked her into helping me. Please protect her if you can.”

  Gabe put his anger about Charlie’s death on the back burner. It wasn’t as though the kids had set a trap to kill a cop. But that didn’t ease Gabe’s guilt about not having been on the dive. Gabe stared at the phone in his hand and wanted to smash it.

  CHAPTER 10

  1430

  The Evans Home

  Gabe turned the truck around and pulled back into Carol’s driveway.

  “War council!” he said as he came in through the kitchen door from the garage.

  When Carol saw how serious he was, she called the kids. Gabe told them about his conversation with Zack and his plans to bring them home. “But here’s the thing. I think Zack and Mickey would be a lot safer here with us. What do you think?”

  “Zack Greenly here? No way,” Paul said.

  “He’s got information that will help us. You guys can watch each other’s backs. Then, if things get hairy, we’ll only have one place to keep safe. Also, this started because Zack wanted to know what happened to his dad. That gives you two a lot in common.”

  “I know, but—” Paul began.

  “If Gabe wants them here they can stay,” Carol said with finality. “Right, Paul?”

  “If you say so,” Paul answered, head down, barely audible.

  “One more thing. I’m going to Atlanta early tomorrow to get them. Paul, I’d like you to come with me.”

  Back in the game and surprised at Gabe’s request, Paul answered, “Sure, but I’m on the schedule at the dive locker.”

  “I’ll fix it,” Gabe said.

  “Thanks for this new day,” Gabe said as he sat up in bed and checked his phone alarm. 3:36. He swung his feet to the floor and walked down to the galley kitchen. He turned on the coffee pot, dropped into his recliner, waiting. Thinking. He remembered the charts by Richard Greenly’s computer and Zack’s comments that there was nothing remarkable in any of the reports. What were you looking for Richard? If it’s not in the reports, why are they so important?

  Gabe picked Paul up before dawn, and by the time the sun was banging against the port windows of the F-150 they were comfortably cruising up I-75 to Atlanta. They made a McDonald’s stop for biscuits and coffee and quietly enjoyed the road for the next fifty miles. As they approached Tifton, Paul began to talk.

  “I read the reports until after midnight. I don’t think I missed anything, but there’s nothing unusual about the bridge. No mention of scouring or other problems.”

  “Zack said that too,” Gabe said. “Guess we need to keep on looking.”

  Paul worked on his soda then said, “Guess so. One thing though, the detail in the reports: how could they see that much in such black water?”

  “Mostly by touch, but sometimes video can see better than we can. You can cover a spot then look at the video and see how much you really missed. It can be humbling.”

  “Dad liked being on the dive team. I think he thought I would like it too.”

  “How do you feel about that?” Gabe asked. Paul was actually talking. Perhaps the key was caffeine and early morning road trips.

  “I like the guys at the dive locker. I can tell they have a lot of respect for each other and they like what they do. And they believe what they do is important.”

  “That’s on target, Paul. What we do matters. And we get to help people in ways few others can.”

  “Protect and serve?”

  “That about covers it.”

  “Is that why you became a cop?”

  “I was an oil field diver first. I was hired to do some state work and got to be friends with troopers on their dive team. They recruited me to become a trooper. I guess I liked the idea of nailing the bad guys, especially the ones who hurt other people. So I was pretty easy to recruit.”

  “Do you have to have college to be a cop?”

  “Now you do, for state anyway. I got in before they made that rule.”

  “Dad had college. Was he easy to recruit?”

  “Yeah, he was a law-and-order guy too. He believed in his code, and he lived by it.”

  “Like you said at the funeral?”

  “Exactly like that.”

  They were quiet for a while. Just past Cordele, Georgia, Paul opened up again. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said at the funeral. It’s hard for me to believe all that God and angel stuff. None of my friends believe it either. If there is a God, how could He let so much bad stuff happen?”

  “Then you’re still mad at the God you don’t believe in?” A hint of a smile crossed Gabe’s face.

  “Didn’t think of it like that, but yeah, I guess,” Paul answered.

  “Okay, what do you believe in?” Gabe asked.

  “Stuff I can see, I guess. Stuff that’s real.”

  “How about oxygen? Can’t see it, or taste it, or smell it, or touch it. Then you don’t believe in it?”

  “Of course I do. We couldn’t live without it.” Paul frowned as if it was a dumb question.

  “Okay, so something you can’t see has rules and consequences: no oxygen, no fire. No oxygen, no life. Right?”

  “Yeah, that’s right.”

  “You can’t see God, but He has rules. Life has consequences.”

  “But that’s impossible. No one can live by all those rules!” Paul turned in the seat, glaring at Gabe.

  Gabe remained undaunted. Hands on the wheel, eyes on the road. “So the God you don’t believe in has rules you don’t like. Interesting. If He doesn’t exist, why would His rules matter?”
>
  “Okay, so maybe He does exist, but why should we worry about His rules when we know it’s impossible to follow them? What kind of a deal is that?”

  “That doesn’t mean we’re not supposed to give it our best shot. I wouldn’t want to face a final judgment with nothing more to say than the mission looked impossible, so I didn’t try. What does it say about us that we don’t even try to listen to what He wants to teach us? We may fail, but we have to keep trying.”

  “But what about forgiveness and mercy? If no one can live by all those rules, what hope is there without forgiveness and mercy? Like we hear about at church all the time.”

  “We’re all going to need them, but mercy is someone else’s department. We can attempt to forgive someone who’s done us some evil, but it’s never easy. I definitely struggle with it. I’m the law-and-order guy. I guess that’s why we need God’s mercy. You ready to forgive the guys who killed your dad?”

  “Not a chance.”

  “Didn’t think so.”

  The truck was quiet until they reached Mickey’s apartment.

  “Look, officer, this was all my fault,” Zack repeated. “I talked Mickey into helping me. We certainly didn’t want anyone hurt. I only thought if we could get divers back on the bridge they might find out what killed my dad.”

  Paul shook his head slowly. Hearing the apology didn’t ease the pain.

  “I’m really sorry about your father, Paul. I never imagined anything like this would happen.” Zack stopped. He was out of words.

  Paul stood awkwardly for a moment then said quietly, “I would do anything to get my dad back or get the guys who killed him. But I know you didn’t have anything to do with what really killed him, so I don’t blame you. I just wish it had ended differently.”

  Gabe nodded, affirming Paul’s response.

  Mickey stepped out of her corner and stood slightly behind Zack as though wearing him as a shield. “We’re brokenhearted for you and your family, Paul. We’ve been afraid to come home and face you. I can’t imagine what you’ve been going through.”

 

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