Touching Cottonwood

by Randall Simpson

  “There are more than just a few loose ends, Sheriff,” interjected Diane.

  “Mom, you promised,” said Rebecca, staring at her mother. “Please, let me answer the sheriff’s questions and give my statement first.”

  Diane D’Arcy nodded her head and looked down at the table.

  “All right, then,” continued the sheriff. “Let’s begin with Tuesday night. Rebecca, please tell me all the events, as you remember them.”

  Rebecca took a deep breath and began: “I was scheduled to work at eight o’clock. I left my house on my bike around seven-twenty or so, and headed up the highway. At some point, a car came up behind me and tried to run me off the road. It came very close to my—”

  “Wait a second,” said the sheriff, jumping in. “You said a car tried to run you off the road?” The sheriff glanced over at Agent Westmore but then looked back at Rebecca.

  “That’s right. It was getting dark, and I couldn’t see who was driving it at the time, but eventually I tried to escape their view by going down into the ravine next to the highway. I went up onto the hillside and tried to get as far away from the highway as possible. It was dark, and a tree branch knocked me to the ground. That’s when I lost my cell phone. I got back up and walked my bike along the hill until I thought it was safe to ride on toward work. I was riding on the highway again, when something else knocked me off my bike. I remember landing on the pavement, and that’s when I got these cuts and scrapes on my right side.” Rebecca pointed to several bandages on her right shoulder, hip, and leg. She then paused, tears forming in her eyes.

  Marlene pushed a box of tissues across the table toward Rebecca. She wiped a few tears before continuing, “When I was laying there on the pavement—that’s when he attacked me.”

  “That’s when Matthew attacked you?” asked the sheriff.

  Rebecca’s eyes grew wide. “Matthew?!” she said. “What on earth are you saying?! Why would Matthew attack me?! It wasn’t Matthew who attacked me—it was Eddie! He tripped me up on the highway, knocked me out with what I think must have been chloroform, took me to his house, bound and gagged me, and put me in a room in his basement! Matthew came to rescue me!”

  “I’m confused,” said the sheriff. “Why would he rescue you?”

  Rebecca paused. “Because he’s my husband,” she proudly stated.

  Agent Westmore exchanged glances with the sheriff, as Rebecca continued: “When he came to Eddie’s house, I was in the basement, and that’s when Eddie must have hit Matthew in the head with a baseball bat. Eddie then took me up to the falls and was getting ready to push me over, when Matthew came to rescue me once more. They got into a fight and then you, Sparky, and the others arrived.”

  “I find it hard to believe that a man who was hit in the head with a baseball bat could have made it up to the falls,” said the sheriff.

  “I was shocked to see him,” replied Rebecca, “but he somehow made it.”

  The sheriff was speechless. He appeared to want to talk but then stopped several times. He glanced once more over at the agent, who had no expression at all. The room was totally silent for a few moments.

  “I don’t know what to say,” the sheriff finally began. “I mean, sure I made some assumptions based on other testimony, but—” The sheriff was interrupted by a knock on the meeting room door, and then the door opened partway, and Sparky poked his head through.

  “Sorry to break in like this, Sheriff,” said Sparky, “but I’ve got something here I think you ought to see. I think it’s related to Ms. D’Arcy’s abduction.”

  Ordinarily the sheriff would have stood up and met with Sparky outside of the room, but he seemed flustered by what he’d heard from Rebecca’s statement. “Come on in, Deputy,” the sheriff said.

  Sparky opened the door all the way and walked over to the table. Everyone in the room could then see that he was carrying a clear plastic bag containing a dark brown bottle.

  The sheriff grabbed the bag and studied it for a moment. “What is this?” he asked, pressing the plastic against the bottle in an attempt to read the label affixed to it.

  Sparky leaned over and looked at the handwritten label through the plastic. “The label reads c-l-o-r-a-f-o-r-m,” he said, “though I think it’s misspelled.”

  “May I?” asked the agent, reaching over toward the plastic bag.

  The sheriff hesitated for a moment and then handed the bag to the agent. Carefully using the plastic bag as a grip, the agent unscrewed the cap on the bottle and took a quick sniff. “Whew, that’s chloroform alright. And where did you find this, Deputy?” asked the agent as he put the lid back on the bottle.

  Sparky glanced at the sheriff before answering. “It was sitting on Eddie Flynn’s kitchen table. And what a pig that guy is—or was. His house is a mess. I also found some blood in the living room and in the hallway by the bathroom. I’ve taken some pictures and samples that I’ll send to the county crime lab. Something pretty ugly happened there—that’s for sure.”

  All eyes in the room shifted to the sheriff. He looked like he wanted to crawl right from the room, but managed to say, “Uh, well, that’s good work, Deputy. I think it’s safe to say that we are now re-evaluating our theories in this case.”

  The agent handed the plastic bag and bottle back to Sparky. “By the way, Deputy,” he said, “earlier the sheriff was telling me that two of the three shots fired at the falls yesterday struck Eddie Flynn.” The agent glanced over at the sheriff before continuing, “It appears one of those striking Mr. Flynn was definitely from my Glock—and that makes sense, because I know where I was aiming. I’m just wondering where you were aiming yesterday?”

  Sparky started to answer, but the sheriff stopped him. “Don’t answer that, Deputy. This is not an appropriate discussion at this time.” The sheriff looked over at Marlene. “Ms. Anders,” he said, “please strike Agent Westmore’s previous statement from your notes.” The sheriff glared at the agent. “And, Agent, I’ve allowed you into this meeting out of professional courtesy so you could bring some closure to your case from Washington, but if you interject those kinds of statements again, I’ll—”

  “John!” interrupted Diane. “You can strike whatever you want from the notes of this meeting, but we’ve heard more than enough!” Rebecca made no sign of stopping her mother this time. “On the night Rebecca went missing, I warned you about Eddie, but you wouldn’t listen. You had it all figured out, didn’t you? Your mind was so closed that you couldn’t see any other answers. I hope you never forget this lesson; I hope it stays with you all the days of your life.”

  Diane then looked at Agent Westmore. “I don’t know you, and I don’t know how you had sense enough to shoot the right man yesterday, but I thank you at least for that. It won’t help bring my son-in-law back or heal my daughter’s broken heart, but at least someone brought some justice to Cottonwood.”

  The sheriff was red-faced. “I resent what you’re implying, Diane. If Rebecca was married to Matthew, you should have told me. Yes, I made some assumptions here, because that’s the nature of police investigations, but you withheld information from me that could have changed the entire course of events. I refuse to take the full blame here.”

  “My mother was respecting our wishes,” interjected Rebecca. “Matthew and I asked her not to tell anyone about our marriage until we were ready.”

  “For what reason?” asked the sheriff.

  Rebecca looked down. “I’m entirely sure…it was something Matthew wanted. I trusted his judgment….”

  “Does it matter?” asked Diane. “It was what they wanted.”

  The agent had been watching the interchange, lost in thought, but then the answer occurred to him. “Breadcrumbs,” he said.

  Everyone looked at him.

  “Don’t ask me to explain it,” the agent continued, “because I can’t. But in the time I’ve been studying Matthew Duncan’s case, tracking him all the way from Washington, I’ve learned he didn’t do anything witho
ut a reason. As strange as it sounds, I even think he lured me down here. It’s like he wanted me to be here, to…” The agent paused.

  “To what?” asked Diane.

  Agent Westmore could only think of the difficult climb he’d made up to the falls—the many times he wanted to quit, to turn back, to not complete the journey. But the vision quest had ended with the bullet he put through the heart of Eddie Flynn. Yet he realized that if Rebecca and Matthew were married, it was no simple act of jealously that would have motivated a man like Matthew.

  “I can’t say for sure,” replied the agent. “But I suggest that we look more deeply into the background of Eddie Flynn.”

  Ninety-Nine

  At the River

  After Rebecca and Diane finished with the sheriff, they walked the streets of Cottonwood for a long time, until they reached McCann Park. There they sat for another long while, watching the water go by. Few words were exchanged, as Rebecca seemed content to simply watch the swirls and ripples of the current, holding her mother’s hand. Diane was ready to give her daughter whatever kind of support she needed.

  After several hours, Diane’s stomach began growling loudly. “Are you getting hungry?” Rebecca asked.

  “No, I’m fine,” replied Diane.

  Rebecca eyed her mother suspiciously. “Liar,” she said, “or was that a bear I heard?”

  Diane smiled. “Okay, maybe I am—a little.”

  “We can leave pretty soon,” said Rebecca. “It’s just…this is the spot where Matthew proposed to me. It makes me feel better to be here—closer to him. He’s out there somewhere,” said Rebecca, staring once more at the river. “I know it.”

  Diane didn’t reply.

  At that moment from behind the two ladies, there came a clicking sound. Rebecca and Diane turned. It was Chelsea Reese. The clicking was the sound of her bike tires turning. She parked her bike and got off.

  “Hello, Rebecca…Ms. D’Arcy,” Chelsea said, approaching the bench. “I hope I’m not bothering you.”

  “Not at all, Chelsea,” said Rebecca, “though we were just getting ready to leave.”

  Chelsea sat on the end of the bench next to Rebecca. The three sat in silence for a minute before Chelsea said, “News sure travels fast in town, doesn’t it?”

  Diane and Rebecca looked over at Chelsea.

  “It certainly does,” said Diane as she glanced at Rebecca.

  “And if there’s anything worth knowing around Cottonwood, my mom seems to know it,” said Chelsea, looking out at the rippling river, purposely ignoring the D’Arcy’s stares. “You know my mom is good friends with Marlene Anders,” she continued. “I bet they talk a couple of times a day. I bet they share every—”

  “Chelsea, I wouldn’t have told the sheriff about my marriage to Matthew if I wanted to keep it a secret,” interjected Rebecca. “Don’t worry—it’s okay that you know.”

  Chelsea drew quiet for a moment. “I’m awfully sorry about what happened,” she finally said. “I only knew him for a short while, but I really liked him.”

  Rebecca smiled and put her hand on Chelsea’s. “Thank you, Chelsea.”

  “I do have something I need to tell you,” Chelsea continued. “I don’t know if anyone told you this, but it was me who found Matthew on the trail yesterday.”

  “You found him?” asked Rebecca. “I thought someone said your dad called the sheriff?”

  Chelsea nodded her head. “He did—after I rode to his office and told him to.”

  Rebecca and Diane had looks of confusion on their faces.

  “When I first found him, he was lying on the trail and was hurt real bad,” continued Chelsea. “I thought he was going to die.”

  “Honey,” began Diane, “I guess I don’t understand. If he was hurt so bad, how could he have made it up to the falls? We know that he was injured, but he was apparently able to walk.”

  “He couldn’t when I first found him,” replied Chelsea.

  Rebecca studied Chelsea’s expression. “I know he was injured pretty severely,” said Rebecca. “When I left him he was…” Rebecca stopped and put her hand up to wipe her eyes. Her mother put her arm around her daughter’s shoulder.

  “This is so hard to talk about,” said Chelsea. “There are things I don’t totally understand—but I know were real. We both knew he was injured, but he made it up to the falls. I think only a great love could have carried him there—he must have loved you very much.”

  Rebecca leaned over and gave Chelsea a hug. “Thank you for sharing that with me, Chelsea, and I think he does love me very much. I’m not giving up hope that he’ll be found.”

  “Of course not,” replied Chelsea as she looked down and then back at Rebecca. “I’ve really been screwing up lately. My mother told me not to leave the house yesterday, but I did anyway, plus I left my cell phone behind, and then both my parents told me not to say anything about meeting Matthew, but here I am talking to you.”

  “I won’t tell them,” replied Rebecca. “I don’t think you’re hurting anything. I appreciate you telling me.”

  Chelsea glanced down and then back up. “There’s more I could tell you—a lot more…” She paused and looked at the river and then added, “maybe sometime, later.”

  “I’d like that,” said Rebecca. “Whenever you feel you’re ready.”

  The three sat in silence for a moment before Chelsea spoke. “Besides telling you how sorry I am and how I found Matthew on the trail, the main reason I came out here was to give you something—something I know you’ll want. Matthew said to give it to his wife.”

  Chelsea reached into her pocket and pulled out the wedding ring, handing it to Rebecca.

  Rebecca was speechless for a moment, shaking her head and staring at her ring. She glanced at Chelsea. “Where…? How…?”

  Chelsea shook her head and shrugged her shoulders. “He didn’t say. He just said to make sure you got it. Look, I haven’t told my parents or anyone else about getting that ring from Matthew, so please don’t say anything to them.”

  Rebecca began to weep lightly as she touched the ring. She then looked up at Chelsea, who also had tears running down her face.

  “This means so much to me,” said Rebecca. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed it. I thought I’d never see it again.”

  Diane D’Arcy’s arm was still around her daughter’s shoulder as she too looked down at the ring, tears running down her face. “It is a beautiful ring,” she said.

  Though it was getting dark, the three women sat together on the bench for a while longer, staring at the ring and silently wiping tears away. The three then walked back toward the town together in the darkness—Chelsea walking next to her bike, Rebecca and Diane holding hands, and Rebecca frequently holding up her left hand to look at her wedding ring. Behind them, the dark water of the Little Bear River gurgled alone in the growing night, following its eternal path to the ocean.

  One Hundred

  Chocolate Shakes

  Agent Westmore found Akash sitting at a corner table in Ernie’s. He was eating a large salad and surfing the Internet on his laptop. There was a tall chocolate shake next to the computer.

  “Mind if I join you?” asked the agent as he pulled out a chair and sat down.

  Akash smiled and nodded, continuing to chew his salad.

  The agent eyed the chocolate shake. “It’s nice to see you have some vices,” he said. “But at least you’ve balanced it with a salad.”

  Akash smiled and wiped his face with a napkin. He picked up the chocolate shake and looked at it as though studying some chemical mixture. “I haven’t had one of these for many years, but I used to drink them all the time as a child. My mother used to make the best chocolate shakes around.” Akash took a long sip. “Mmm,” he continued, staring again at the glass. “I think if my mother were alive, she’d have some strong competition.”

  The agent’s mouth was watering. “I think I’m gonna have to order me one of those,” he said, looki
ng around for the wait staff.

  Akash continued to eat his salad, cutting a cherry tomato in half and popping it into his mouth. “So, how’s the search coming along?”

  The agent shook his head. “Still no sign of the second body—they’ll look again tomorrow, I guess.”

  Akash paused his eating for a moment and looked at Agent Westmore. “By the way, I know that all of this police activity is absolutely none of my business, so if I ask a question you feel is out of bounds, just tell me so.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” replied the agent. “You came along yesterday at exactly the right time and were a huge help to me. I figure you have the right to know everything I do.”

  “I appreciate that, but please don’t refrain from putting me in my place. I’m naturally curious—but sometimes it gets me into trouble.”

  Agent Westmore smiled and looked around once more for someone to take his order. The only waitress that appeared to be on duty was across the diner helping someone else. He looked back at Akash. “I think you might be interested to know that it was my bullet they found lodged inside of Eddie Flynn.”

  Akash raised his eyebrows. “No kidding? You didn’t shoot Matthew Duncan but shot the other guy instead?”

  “That’s what the autopsy showed,” replied the agent. He then turned and stared across the diner, finally getting the attention of the waitress.

  “Somehow, I knew that was going to be the case,” said Akash.

  “Oh? And what made you think that?”

  At that moment, the waitress came to the table. She was an older woman with long graying hair neatly kept in a ponytail behind her head. One got the sense she’d been working at Ernie’s for quite some time, and had worn her hair exactly in the same manner since long before it had turned gray. The agent remembered her serving him at least one time before. This time he ordered a chocolate shake along with a bacon, lettuce, and tomato sandwich from her.