Walleye Junction

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Walleye Junction Page 16

by Karin Salvalaggio


  Macy dipped under the crime scene tape and stood next to the empty fire pit. The contents had already been collected and bagged as evidence. At the sound of voices she turned toward the river. A boat drifted downstream. Two men sat holding fishing rods while another one steered the boat. One of the men shouted hello and Macy waved back.

  “You were right,” said Macy. “Anyone could access the property from this stretch of river.”

  “It’s illegal to come ashore, but I doubt that would have been a deterrent if someone was trying to set Bob Crawley up.” Aiden pointed upstream. “There’s a public boat launch about two miles from here.”

  “How far downstream do you have to go before you can access the river again?”

  “It’s about four miles. During the high season a bus runs between the two sites.”

  “It would have been risky,” said Macy. “The beach is visible from the river. They may have been spotted setting the fire.”

  “Not necessarily. It’s still a little early in the season for fishing and people really don’t use this stretch of river for float trips until late June. I think there was greater risk of being discovered by someone coming down from the house.”

  Macy took a moment to think. “They could have burned the gear somewhere else and deposited the remnants in the pit. On and off the boat in a matter of seconds,” she said.

  Aiden walked out to the water’s edge and picked up a stone. “I realize this is all theoretical at this point, but if Crawley is innocent, who do you suppose he’s covering for?”

  “Charlotte Crawley hired a private detective to keep an eye on Bob. She just sent me the list of women Crawley was sleeping with.” Macy scrolled through the e-mail message. “I see five names, including Carla Spencer’s. It might be that he couldn’t bring himself to admit to being with one of them. Providing a proper alibi for the night of Philip’s murder would have saved his family a lot of grief. If he is innocent, it’s hard to believe that he didn’t have the foresight to realize this.”

  Aiden skipped a flat stone across the river’s surface. “Considering your history with Ray, I’m surprised this kind of behavior surprises you.”

  “I seem to have a blind spot.”

  “Open your eyes, Macy. Men are assholes.”

  She made a face. “Aiden, are you trying to tell me something?”

  He threw another stone. “Maybe.”

  “What do you mean by maybe?”

  Aiden brushed his hands clean on his trousers and turned to face her.

  “I guess I want to know how serious I should be taking us.”

  “I’m not sure,” said Macy.

  “I think it’s time you made up your mind.”

  “Where is this coming from?”

  “I don’t like having to hide that we’re together. It makes it feel more like an affair than a relationship. Sometimes I think you’d rather people didn’t know because you’re not sure if it’s something you really want.”

  “It’s been a difficult year. I thought you understood.”

  “I thought I did too,” said Aiden. “But you’re going to be back in Helena soon. Lately, it seems like it’s a little of something or all of nothing.”

  “I’m sorry. I honestly didn’t know you felt this way.” She tilted her face up to the sky. It had gone from blue to black in a matter of minutes. “Are you free this evening? We could talk.”

  “Sort of depends on Bob Crawley. We really should go question him again.” He stood next to her. “Sorry to bring up personal stuff at work.”

  “It’s okay. There’s nobody down here but us.”

  “Truth is, I don’t know how this thing between us can ever work. I’m tied to my job here and you’ve got your mom and Luke back in Helena. Neither of us are the type of person who would walk away from something this good, but there has to be some promise of a future. I feel like I’m treading water when I’m with you.”

  Macy put her palm flat to his chest. She often felt as if she was barely staying afloat. She had no idea he was feeling the same way.

  “Aiden,” she said. “I feel like this is my fault. I’m coming out of a situation that was never normal. I think I’ve forgotten how to do this.”

  “It’s not just you. I’m not sure what I want either. I just think that this rarified air we’re living in isn’t good for us.”

  “We’ll talk tonight. I promise.”

  The shadows beneath the trees had deepened. Gusts of wind shook the upper branches. The river seemed to swell in the dying light. Thunder rumbled in the distance.

  “It’s going to rain soon,” said Aiden. “We’d better get going.”

  “Give me another minute. I feel like we should have a better look around the perimeter.”

  Macy pulled a small flashlight from her bag and took one last walk around the clearing. She pointed toward some trees a dozen feet farther along the shoreline. The light had caught on something reflective.

  “Do you see that?” she said.

  “It looks like a children’s fort.”

  Built from sawn-off branches of pine trees held together by silver duct tape, the small lean-to was barely visible in the dense undergrowth.

  “Crawley’s kids must have built it.”

  Macy pulled away a couple of branches and peeked inside. A blond-haired doll was wrapped up in a baby blanket. She picked it up and inspected it carefully.

  “This doll must belong to one of the kids.”

  “Three boys and one girl,” said Aiden. “I think it’s safe to assume it’s Annabel’s.”

  There was an empty yogurt container on the ground.

  “Look at the expiration date,” said Macy, holding it up to the flashlight’s beam. “Annabel was here recently.”

  “It doesn’t mean she saw anything.”

  “The fort is less than thirty feet from the fire pit. We need to talk to her.”

  Macy slipped everything into a plastic evidence bag.

  Aiden frowned. “Do you actually think that doll is evidence?”

  “No, but if it’s someone’s favorite doll I don’t want it to get wet.”

  The tall grass whipped at their legs as they climbed the path from the river basin up to the house. To the north, lightning threaded through the dark sky.

  Macy had to yell to be heard above the driving wind.

  “It’s hard to believe the sun was shining a few minutes ago,” she said.

  “This is Montana. You can have all four seasons in a day.”

  “Maybe we should quit our jobs and move somewhere warm.”

  “I think we both love it here too much to leave.”

  With all its lights on, the Crawley’s house hovered over the valley like a spaceship. The first time she’d visited she’d thought it blended into the landscape. Now she wasn’t so sure. It was out of scale. It was too much and yet it wasn’t enough.

  “I know what you mean,” she said, taking a moment to look north, where the storm clouds were massing. There was another lightning strike, but this one was closer. “It is beautiful up here.”

  He put his hand to her lower back and guided her up the hill.

  “This probably isn’t the best time to commune with nature. We’re going to get struck by lightning if we stay out here much longer.”

  * * *

  Ryan was waiting for them in the garage. They stood in the open door and watched hailstones pelt the parked cars. Ryan scrolled through some images of tire impressions on his tablet. He had to yell to be heard over the racket.

  “We’ve got a match on the tire impressions from one of the bikes, but it’s a popular brand so not exactly damning evidence. I’ve taken trace samples from the treads to see if there’s anything specific that will tie it to the area where Philip Long was murdered.”

  “Anything of interest in the house?” asked Macy.

  “Nada. We’ve had a look at his laptop though,” said Ryan. “Turns out Daddy Crawley was into sugar.”

  Aiden
frowned. “Sugar Daddy Web sites?”

  “Looks like he is running his own private University of Montana scholarship program.”

  Macy gave Ryan a sharp look. “I know when you’re exaggerating.”

  “Not by much. He is a member of a couple of Web sites that specialize in matching financial donors with disadvantaged coeds. It’s called an arrangement.” Ryan smiled. “We just don’t know how much he’s donated.”

  “What happened to getting a job at a local coffee shop to pay your way through school?” asked Macy.

  “A minimum wage job isn’t going to cut it these days,” said Ryan. “These sites have become more popular than anyone could have ever foreseen.”

  “Remind me to start saving up for Luke’s education.”

  Aiden pulled up the hood of his jacket before making his way back to the main house. “I wouldn’t worry about that,” he said. “Your mom has already opened an account for Luke. I’m going to have a quick word with guys inside. I’ll be back in sec.”

  Ryan raised an eyebrow. “I had no idea Aiden was so well acquainted with your family’s finances. Anything you want to tell me that I haven’t already figured out?”

  “That obvious?” asked Macy.

  “Only to the initiated, but don’t worry, your secret is safe with me—unless you want me to be the bearer of glad tidings. I love a happy ending.”

  “Then you should stick to musicals.” Macy noticed that Gina’s vehicle was gone. “Have you seen Gina?”

  “Something came up, and she had to head back to Helena. I thought I’d give you a lift, but it looks like Aiden is already giving you a ride.”

  “Ryan, that’s quite enough.”

  “I’ve been staring at tire treads all afternoon. You have to let me have some fun.”

  “It’s been fun, but I’m not feeling humored. I’m feeling anxious. Aiden just told me that he wants to know where our relationship is going.”

  “Oh dear,” said Ryan. “That will mean you have to talk.”

  “He’s looking for clarity.”

  “How do you feel about that?”

  Macy closed her eyes. “Cloudy.”

  “Not exactly a position of strength,” said Ryan.

  “What should I do?”

  “You have great instincts. Use them.”

  “I’m not sure if I trust them anymore.”

  “How long has it been since you were in a proper relationship?” Ryan held up a hand. “Ray and that redneck paramedic from Collier don’t count.”

  Macy sighed. “Six and half years.”

  “And you want to walk away from someone you actually like who is willing to give it a go?”

  “I do sound like an idiot when you put it that way.”

  “I’m always here for you when you need to be reminded.” Ryan paused. “But in all seriousness, don’t rush into anything. You’ve had a tough year. Aiden may seem like a safe bet, but he’ll come with his own set of issues. We all do. Take an honest look at why you’re hesitating and go from there.”

  * * *

  Macy scrolled through the women listed in Charlotte Crawley’s e-mail.

  “Where on earth does Bob Crawley find the time and energy for all this extracurricular activity?” asked Macy. “Doesn’t he have a company to run? Millions of dollars to manage?”

  Aiden checked the rearview mirror before pulling into the outside lane.

  “Charlotte deserves better.”

  “This is interesting,” said Macy, rereading the information to make sure she had it right. “This girl is barely eighteen. Unbelievable. It gets worse.”

  “What?”

  “Stacy Shaw attends the same high school as the Crawley’s eldest son.”

  “That’s sinking pretty low.”

  “If Crawley was with her on the night of the murder it could explain why he’s unwilling to provide an alibi.”

  “Age of consent is sixteen so he’s okay from a legal standpoint, but I doubt that would matter in the court of public opinion. But is an affair with an eighteen-year-old girl enough of a reason for him to risk a murder charge?”

  “If he’s innocent maybe he’s hoping he’ll get off for another reason.”

  “That’s a pretty risky strategy.”

  “He’s screwed either way,” said Macy.

  “Another angle we could look at is blackmail. If he’s messing around with a girl from his son’s high school, he would have made himself vulnerable. He’s got a lot of money. Might be that Carla and Lloyd threatened him with exposure if he didn’t cooperate. It’s only a hunch, but maybe you should lead with his affair with Stacy Shaw when you question him.”

  * * *

  Bob Crawley was waiting in the same interview room where he’d met Macy earlier in the day. Macy was a little surprised he hadn’t contacted his lawyer yet. She switched on the recording equipment and read him his rights again. It was all beginning to feel a little too familiar.

  “Mr. Crawley, you weren’t with your wife the night Philip Long was kidnapped and murdered. If you do not provide us with a sound alibi you will be charged. Do you fully understand what’s at stake here?”

  Bob scratched at the rough patches on his cheeks. His eyes were bloodshot.

  “I didn’t kidnap or kill Philip Long. I stand by what I said earlier,” said Bob. “I’ve never even met the man.”

  “Where were you the night of the murder?”

  “I can’t say.”

  Macy pulled out a photo the private investigator had taken. Bob Crawley and Stacy Shaw had been meeting regularly at a motel south of Collier. He’d not waited until they were safely inside before putting his hands up her skirt.

  “Do you recognize the person in this photograph?”

  Bob Crawley stared at the image a few seconds before closing his eyes. His skin had a gray pallor. It looked as if he was going to be sick.

  Macy placed a few more photos on the table between them. She could only imagine how Charlotte Crawley felt when she’d first seen them.

  “So how did you and Stacy Shaw meet?” asked Macy. “Did she come up to the house to hang out with your son and end up getting to know his daddy instead? Or was there a chance encounter at a parent-teacher evening at the high school? There are just so many possibilities. Each one more inappropriate than the next.”

  He shook his head vigorously. “It was nothing like that. She was registered on a Web site I use. After exchanging a few e-mails we met at Murphy’s Tavern in Collier. I assumed she was at least twenty-one. She’d lied and said she was a junior at the University of Montana.”

  “How long before you knew her real age?”

  “I’ve done nothing illegal.”

  “She’s barely eighteen and attends your son’s high school,” said Macy. “You must be scared shitless that this might come out.”

  “Where did you get these photographs?”

  “Your wife gave them to us. It turns out she’s not as understanding as you thought, but I guess everyone has a breaking point.” Macy had saved the most damning photograph for last. It was taken with a telephoto lens. Stacy Shaw straddled Bob in the front seat of his car. The Walleye Junction High School gymnasium could be seen in the background. “Just so you know, I’ve reached my breaking point too. No more fucking around. I need to know where you were the night of the murder.”

  Bob turned the last photo over. “I was with Stacy.”

  “All night?”

  “Between ten and three.”

  Macy didn’t need to check her notes. She knew that Philip Long had died shortly before three in the morning. She was there.

  “Mr. Crawley, you’re going to have to provide proof that you were together. Where did you meet Miss Shaw?”

  “Same motel as before. It’s the Valley Inn near Route 93.”

  “Did anyone see you together?”

  “Maybe my wife’s private detective was hiding out taking photos.”

  “Not that night. Did the manager see you?”


  “Stacy checked us in.”

  “You better hope Stacy Shaw backs up your alibi. There’s only so much more of your bullshit I can take.”

  “This doesn’t need to go any further than this room.”

  “Your wife is free to do whatever she likes with these photographs. Ms. Shaw probably has her own plans. Maybe they’ll both sell their stories to the press. Wouldn’t be the first time that’s happened.”

  Macy put the photos aside and placed the evidence bag containing the doll on the table.

  “Do you recognize this doll?”

  He turned the bag over in his hands. There was a tightening around his eyes. His voice caught.

  “It belongs to my daughter, Annabel.”

  “Were you aware that it was missing?”

  “Yes, she’s been having trouble sleeping. We’ve been looking everywhere.”

  “Could you be more specific about the time frame of when it went missing?” asked Macy. “We found it near the fire pit by the river on your property. It may be that your daughter saw something she wasn’t supposed to while she was playing down there. If you weren’t involved in Philip Long’s kidnapping and murder, someone is taking measures to set you up.”

  “Charlotte and I realized something was amiss three days ago when our daughter wouldn’t settle down for the night. The doll is very special to her. I’m surprised she left it somewhere.”

  “Are you aware that your children have built a fort down by the river?”

  “They’re not supposed to be down there on their own.”

  “Which is probably why Annabel didn’t tell you where to find the doll. The fort is only thirty feet from the fire pit. It’s possible your daughter may have seen something.”

  * * *

  Aiden backed his patrol car into his driveway and nudged Macy awake. She’d drifted off in midsentence somewhere between Walleye Junction and Wilmington Creek. She was pretty sure she’d been rambling incoherently about her thoughts on everything from marriage to having more children to long-term commitment. Aiden kissed her lightly on the lips.

  “Rise and shine, beautiful,” he said.

  Apparently, she had yet to say anything that put him off. She eased out of the seat. For some reason her back and chest were hurting more than they did a couple of days after the accident.

 

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