The River Waits for Murder

by C. Ruth Daly

  Donna knew she was wrong to ask him that, but she felt as if she didn’t need to justify her actions because she was the provider. Where would Evan be without her? She always rationalized whenever she felt Evan had made a valid point. When will I admit to him that he is right, she pondered the idea then shrugged it off because she knew that if she said Evan was right, then he would not let up about it for the rest of the trip. She glanced in the rearview mirror to see a few headlights behind her. It was hard to tell if the man was following them. Besides, there were two of them, the .22 revolver and Ralph. There was just one of him, she thought.

  They crossed the Missouri state line and continued northeast on their journey to Burgenton, traversing the rolling hillsides in the darkness of night and to be welcomed to the morning sun as they crossed the great river into Illinois. It was breakfast time and Donna was tired and hungry. Evan proved his worth as he stayed vigilant in the seat beside her as they drove all night. He had remembered the man drove a tan wagon and he kept a watch out for it when they stopped at gas stations and when they made a longer pit-stop at a rest stop so Donna could catch a few winks.

  Evan was proud of himself for sticking with his friend and guarding them. He felt like the protector and it made him feel good. Once again I’m protecting the gold, he thought, as Donna pulled into a Denny’s parking lot near a gas station. “How about some breakfast, Evan?” Donna smiled at him. Her expression was relaxed as she stepped down from the cab while Evan put a leash on Ralph and crankily walked his pet to an open field behind the restaurant. Donna turned away from him, yawned and stretched up on her tiptoes. She started to turn back to the cab when a small tan wagon caught her eye. She flinched and ducked below the parked car in front of her so the driver of the tan car could not see she was there. The car pulled into the gas station across from the restaurant.

  Donna quietly closed the door of the truck and crouched behind the car, then walked on her haunches to the front where she could motion to Evan to stay out of sight. He saw her squatting on the ground and then paid attention to the gesture she made in the direction of the gas station across the street; then he moved out of sight behind the building. Carefully she turned to peak around the front bumper of the blue sedan and watched. Deductively she thought that the stranger knew their destination, so why would he continue to follow them? She also noticed that he had come from the direction of town so he must have spent the night at a hotel, but how could he have made better time than her? Of course, she considered the fact her top speed was between fifty and fifty-five with all the crap they had loaded down in the bed of the truck. Certainly the pony-tailed man was moving faster than they were.

  She remained in that position until the tan station wagon and its driver had pulled out of the station and onto I-70 East. He didn’t see us, she thought, but then was he even looking? After all, if he was looking for the gold, he knew Burgenton was their destination. Donna stood up from her crouched position, and rounded the corner of the back of the building to motion for Evan and Ralph. Her suspicions would only be confirmed if she spotted the stranger in Burgenton, she reassured herself. I’m tired she thought; this is all just a coincidence and my paranoia. The man could easily be heading to Indianapolis or Boston or anywhere east of Indiana. She relaxed as she and Evan entered the restaurant, “It will be good to be home, Evan. Don’t you think?” She smiled at him as the two of them snagged a booth with a window view of the truck. “Yeah, Donna, it will,” Evan grumbled.

  Chapter Four

  It was great to see the Burgenton welcome sign as they approached the town proper. There it was: “Burgenton, Look Her Over and Stay Awhile.” The sense of familiarity warmed Donna as she spoke to Evan, “Well, where do you want me to drop you, Evan?” She waited and hoped he would not be dismayed by her question. She was afraid to broach the topic during the entire journey from Arizona.

  Evan hung his head and turned to her, “Don’t matter, Donna.” She sensed the disappointment in his voice. “I can first pay respects to Linda and Dad and if you want to drop us there at the cemetery, well I can hitch a ride out to the river and meet up with Trevor…he might be glad to see me. Dun no, though,” he muttered as he turned his head away from Donna to stare out the window. He didn’t want her to see that he was about to cry. Evan had felt rejection before but he didn’t think he would feel it from his dear friend, Donna. “Just drop me off by Linda, okay, Donna?” He sniffed and tried to hide a swipe at his tears, but Donna saw him.

  She sighed, “Oh, Evan,” and reached out to lightly punch him on the shoulder. “It’s okay, uh just come back to the house with me. My mom has plenty of room and I’m sure she won’t mind if you stay—but pick up after yourself, okay? And don’t mention one word about the gold or the gun; do you hear me? And…and don’t smoke in the house. And don’t go into the house when you smell like smoke. Don’t drink and don’t fall asleep in the easy chair because that was Dad’s and Mom thinks of it as sacred.” Donna was firm. Her mother had never learned about the gold—no one’s mother or parent had ever known. It had only been the six of them and well, Thelma, but like Glynda had said, Thelma had thought it was all stories. Glynda had sworn her little brother Rodney to secrecy and she held it over him like a constant which was one big reason why Rodney lived with Glynda in the little apartment where Glynda, Lori Bell, and Donna had spent many nights and from the apartment window where they first captured a glimpse of Ned Hollis.

  “Okay, Donna…maybe I can just sleep outside, what’d a think?” He turned to her quizzically. They had reached the town square which had remained steadfast over years. The courthouse stood in all its majesty and glory with its limestone steps leading any pedestrian up to its halls of justice as it had done for a couple of centuries. It was one of the only things in Burgenton that seemed to remain unchanged. The Opera House was on the right; its double doors gilded with brass handles and freshly polished windows that glistened in the midday sun as she guided the truck down the street and to the corner to Livingston Street. The Pizza Spot was still there to her left, but Floral by Bess was now only a listless banner strung inside a window that echoed memories of a time when Bess prospered in Burgenton. The building was dark and lifeless resting on the corner. The bank was straight ahead still and St. Anne’s steeple reached to the sky over the roof of the bank and then as she guided the truck down Livingston Street, the Methodist Church’s steeple could be seen to her left peeping through the treetops, past the now dormant shoe hospital for the proprietor Tom had long retired, then past Hoeneker’s Grocery and the few blocks on to the McNally house.

  There was a red wagon in front of the white framed house with the beginnings of peeling paint when Donna pulled up to the curb and put on the brake, then cut the ignition. She was home. She glanced over at Evan, who stared ahead at the hollow of trees at the end of the street. Donna suspected she knew what he was thinking and said, “Evan, that’s just a little hollow, you know. It’s not big enough for you to camp in and those houses all around it—well, you’d be visible to anyone who peered out of their two story windows. She sighed and reached over and put her hand on his knee and squeezed it. “Don’t worry. It will be okay. Let’s go in and see my mom then head over and meet up with Glynda to see what’s happening with everyone and everything.” Evan began to pout over his beard top and Donna realized he was trying to manipulate her again. “Well, Evan, do what you want, but I’m going to go in the house and see my mom.” Before Donna could get out of the truck her mom was on the porch.

  “Donna,” her mother called as she gently stepped off the front stoop and made her way through the grass to meet her daughter at the curb. “Donna, you’re back,” Carol McNally sniffled through her tears. Donna’s mother had aged in the three years since she had last saw her. Carol’s once peppered hair was now white and pulled back in a bun and Donna could feel the bend in her spine when the two hugged. “And this is Evan,” Carol glanced at Donna with a smirk and wink.

  “No, Mom,
this is just my friend, Evan. Is it okay if he stays here for a while until he gets a place to stay? Same with me, Mom. It will take me about a month to figure out what to do and where to go from here,” Donna had not really thought this through. Part of her wanted to return to the Southwest, but she had spent the last three years since she and Evan left the Burgenton area struggling with the break in friendship that the gold had brought to the group of childhood friends. She hadn’t spoken to Lori Bell since that night they dug up the gold. She and Trevor took off in a separate car down the road by the river. Conversations with Glynda had only consisted of a business-like phone call once a month with updates on rumors that run rampant in small towns and any scuttlebutt on Hollis and the Confederate gold. After fourteen years, Hollis was becoming a sort of legend in the community. Donna and Evan resented the fact teenagers were glorifying the murderer and the idea that Ned Hollis had harbored some kind of fortune in the woods appealed to the locals— kids and adults alike.

  Donna was very curious how and to whom Trevor Morrelli had sold his portion of the prize and if Lori Bell, his fiancée, had knowledge of the manner in which her future husband bought and developed all of that land along the river. Through Glynda’s reports acquired through the local rumor mills, word on the streets of Burgenton was Trevor Morrelli was a shrewd businessman who invested the profits from his dad’s real estate and made a ton of money which enabled him to develop the acres of woods along the Tippecanoe. Trevor, the local boy who had done good.

  Donna thought otherwise and her goal was to find out if it was safe to disclose the gold and turn it over to the proper authorities for as far as Donna was concerned, it was a national treasure and like Professor Lucero had suggested, something like her coin deserved to be in the Smithsonian for all to enjoy. Evan, on the other hand, never told Donna his plans for the gold and kept his secrets from his roommate over the past three years. Glynda, like Donna and Evan, kept her part secured in a location that no one but Glynda knew, and no one really had knowledge of Glynda’s plans for the gold.

  “Mom, we’re just going to go in and put our things down, then catch up. We have to zip over to see Glynda and find out how things are with her, and maybe she can help Evan find a job here in town.” Donna broke her reflective silence after driving for thirty-six hours; she was still numb from the travel, and then she remembered Ralph. By this time the mutt was staring out the passenger window and Mrs. McNally had already noticed him.

  “Well, Donna, when did you get the dog?” Carol asked as she examined the mangy creature, Donna could guess her mother’s thoughts.

  “Don’t worry, Mom. He won’t stay inside and since Glynda lives just around the corner, maybe she will have space for Ralph. Her boys might like him.” Donna looked at Evan with a strained expression, knowing her mother did not care for pets in the house. “Right, Evan? You were planning on letting Ralph stay with Glynda?”

  With his head hanging, Evan replied, “Uh…guess so Donna. Maybe I can stay in Glynda’s garage over there. Donna again had forgotten about the bond he had with his dog and the idea of Ralph staying at her Mom’s house did not even occur to her when they entered the Burgenton line. There was a glint of hope in Donna’s eyes as she focused her attention on Evan.

  “Yeah, Evan, if that’s okay with Glynda, and Mom, you won’t mind if Evan and Ralph stay in our garage, right?” Donna asked with a glimmer of hope in her eye, as her mom responded with an affirmative nod.

  The two gathered their belongings from the bed of the truck and headed into the house. The interior of the home had not changed in the three years since Donna had pulled away from the curb after the Founder’s Day parade and the unearthing of the gold from beneath the horse trailer in the woods along the river, what was once Evan’s home—and the hiding spot of the murderer Ned Hollis.

  Donna stopped and stared at her Dad’s recliner just as he had left it those ten years ago the night before he had died in the car while leaving for work. The newspaper from the previous day of his death still rested against the arm of the chair. It was as if the chair were waiting for its owner’s return. She let loose a sigh and set her things by the stair railing and told Evan to do the same. His belongings were less than half of what Donna set down and what remained in the truck was all Donna’s because Evan was Evan. Always a man of simple means. He never wanted to be owned or to own too much because like his family, who he once thought belonged to him, was no longer. Evan always afraid of abandonment and that’s why Donna was riddled with guilt because she could not just leave him. There was the hope that Evan would develop independence and when they entered the Burgenton line, her friend would agree to go his own way, but now, Donna realized that after three years of sharing the same space, fixing meals for Evan and treating him like her grown child, Evan was not independent. Donna had taken the place of what he had lacked in a home life during his teens and what he so desperately needed—a home and a person to treat him like they cared and to give him the secure surroundings that he had lacked before heading west with her.

  “Mom, we’re going over to Glynda’s house for a bit then I’ll be back—maybe Evan, too,” Donna glanced at his sullen face and continued, “but we’ll have to see if Glynda can keep the two of you for a while, right Evan?”

  “Yea, sure Donna. Me and Ralph will be okay, don’t worry about us. Thank you Mrs. McNally if it don’t work out with Glynda, if me and Ralph can stay in the garage. I’ll clean up after him of course and well…I know to stay straight, just like Donna told me.” Evan looked at Donna for validation. He had said all the right things, he thought, and Mrs. McNally will surely take him.

  Carol McNally smiled at Evan and nodded. She placed her hand of Donna’s shoulder and squeezed it, “Donna, just let me know if I need to get a bed ready for Evan, here. Ralph can stay in the garage. Evan shouldn’t have to sleep outside when we have all the beds upstairs.”

  Donna turned and gave her mom a hug, “Thanks, Mom, she sighed with an expression of chagrin on her face. Her mom was not supposed to fall for Evan’s tricks. “We’ll be back in about an hour.”

  The two headed through the kitchen and out the backdoor, across the grassy yard littered with dandelions and to the alley where just a few feet from the McNally house rested the former home of Ethel Becker and now Glynda Myer—no longer Glynda Patrick. Mr. Patrick was long gone. A railroad worker who her friend had met not long after high school and with whom she had fallen in love—or so Glynda thought, and remained married long enough to have two boys. The second year of marriage and the bastard Patrick disappeared during the night leaving only a note for Glynda to let her know he had found his true love and they were off to Florida. Donna had received the call from Glynda one night while she was in college. The tears ripped through the phone as Glynda lamented that all men were no good and she would be single for life. The jilted young woman vowed to raise her own sons to treat all people and especially women with respect. Still the warrior, Glynda carried on.

  The two of them entered the screened porch and knocked on the door. The upstairs where Rodney lived was silent but inside the house screams of children and running feet greeted Donna and Evan as the door flew open and there stood Glynda with a huge smile on her face. She had remained the same during the three year absence from Burgenton. Donna leaned over and gave her friend a hug while Evan remained reserved and stayed behind Donna. He gave a slight wave to his old school friend, and Glynda with her maternal warmth reached around Donna and hugged Evan, too. The gesture surprised the man and he slightly lost his footing, catching himself on the door frame.

  “It is so good to see you, Donna, and you too, Evan! Come in and see my boys and see my little brother. I’ve got news to share with ya.” Glynda gave Donna a knowing nod.

  Inside the house where remnants of another era still covered the interior, were Glynda’s three boys: her two sons Bo and Brian and then her other “son,” Rodney.

  “How you doin, Eban and Donna?” Rodney smiled. His
lower jaw still protruded and the surgical scar from his cleft palate was still a dominate feature on his face. Rodney now sported a brown prosthetic eye to match his one working eye. The orb remained still in its socket as Rodney looked Donna and Evan up and down. “You guys look de same ‘cept Eban, Donna made you fat.” The little man said as he gave Evan’s gut a quick punch.

  Evan smiled, showing his teeth with crooked spaces filled with brown tar, and returned the gesture, giving Rodney a lighter punch to his small, protruding abdomen. The two men smiled, chuckled, and Donna and Glynda left the two of them to bond as they gravitated toward the kitchen where in a past decade, they would have sat and sipped tea and eaten cookies so lovingly created by Ethel Becker, Glynda’s grandmother, who now resided in the Myer house.

  The women sat down in the same chairs as they would have when they were thirteen. “Well, Glynda, what’s new?” Donna asked as she folded her hands on the center doily before her.

  Glynda reached to the side of the table and picked up a cigarette and lit it. ”We’ve got to get out to the river tomorrow and check things out. I don’t know if it’s a good idea to take Evan because he might go ballistic if he sees what’s happened to them woods. It’s a shame, Donna. You won’t recognize the place… and Lori Bell, well she looks and acts like she’s some kind of hot-shot prom queen. I don’t even want to talk to her, Donna. She just ain’t who she used to be—or maybe she is. Maybe this is who Lori Bell was deep down inside. I dunno.” Glynda flicked the ashes in an empty green bean can.