Walleye Junction

by Karin Salvalaggio

  “You’re not angry?”

  “No, not at all.” Dot folded her napkin and put it beside her plate. She looked close to crying. “I’m frustrated. Because I’m on my own some people view me as a predatory female. Women have a tendency to hide their husbands from me. Then there’s the gossip. If I’m seen with a man people assume I’m sleeping with him. I’m sure you’ve faced the same thing.”

  “Sadly, yes.”

  “So much for the sisterhood.”

  “Did my father tell you what he was working on when he died?” asked Emma. “The police think it might be linked to his kidnapping, but his laptop is missing and he never confided in my mother.”

  “I’m sorry, but I can’t help you there. We didn’t really talk about his work.” Dot hesitated. “I’m not sure you’re aware of this, but your father loved to gossip. That man seemed to have his finger on every pulse in the valley. He had such a wicked sense of humor.”

  “I miss him.”

  “Me too. He was a good man.”

  Emma noticed the time. She’d promised to meet Nathan. If she didn’t leave right away she was going to be late.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, reaching for her handbag. “I’d better get going.”

  “Do you need to be somewhere?”

  “I’m meeting Nathan.”

  “Sounds dreadful. Call and cancel. We can go for a walk in the garden instead.”

  “I’ve already canceled three times.”

  “Then once more won’t hurt. Besides,” Dot said, pointing out Emma’s empty wineglass. “You’ve had far too much to drink. It will be a while before you’re fit to drive.”

  11

  Stacy Shaw’s mother stared at Macy through the half open door with a blank expression on her face. Macy held her badge a little higher.

  “Mrs. Shaw, do you have any idea when your daughter will be home?”

  The woman peered over Macy’s shoulder. She’d borrowed Aiden’s pickup truck, and it was blocking the narrow country lane. The sun was rising in the sky. It was coming up to nine in the morning.

  “Is Stacy in trouble?” asked Mrs. Shaw.

  “No, ma’am. I only want to ask her a few questions.”

  “That’s what the cops who stopped by yesterday evening said. Seems like there’s more to it if you’re already back again this morning.”

  The woman grew in stature as she stepped out onto the porch. Close to six feet tall and painfully thin, she wore a flannel shirt and jeans. The little hair she had was hidden beneath a red checked bandana. The laces of her heavy work boots trailed behind her as she walked the length of the porch. She tapped a pipe on the railing before pulling a bag of weed out of her shirt pocket.

  “That had better be medical grade,” said Macy.

  Mrs. Shaw held up the bag for Macy’s inspection.

  “I’ve been worried about Stacy,” she said.

  “Is there something specific that’s been worrying you?”

  “She’s got money coming in from somewhere.” Mrs. Shaw broke off some of the bud and pressed it into the bowl of the pipe. She struck a match. “She says it’s from babysitting, but I know that’s a lie. Nobody pays that well.”

  “We already have a list of her friends at school. Do you have any idea who else she’s been hanging out with?”

  Mrs. Shaw leaned against the railing. She looked younger out in the light. One eye was green, the other blue. She took a long hit from the pipe and held it in. Macy silently counted the seconds before Mrs. Shaw exhaled.

  “A couple of weeks ago, I went into town to collect a bedside table someone dumped in an alleyway.” Mrs. Shaw tipped her head to the barn. “I restore furniture for a living so I’m always looking for castoffs. I’d just finished loading it up into my van when I saw a woman making her way along the pavement. It was dark, but there was something familiar about her so I waited. When she got closer I realized it was Stacy. She was so dressed up I almost didn’t recognize my own daughter.”

  “What was she wearing?”

  “A tight-fitting dress and heels. She doesn’t have those kind of clothes here at the house so she must have gone somewhere to change. I said hello, and she looked at me like I wasn’t there. Got into a car and was driven away.” Mrs. Shaw’s voice trailed off. “I’ve not had much to say to her since then.”

  “What kind of car was it?”

  “It was a big dark SUV, navy or black I suppose. I couldn’t tell the make. It had been parked there when I pulled up. I thought it was kind of weird as it wasn’t the type of place you normally find nice cars.”

  “Did you see the driver?” asked Macy.

  “I’d assumed it was empty, but then the high beams went on at the same time I tried talking to Stacy. Couldn’t see much of anything after that.” She held the pipe up again, but spoke before she took another hit. “I really wish I could tell you more.”

  “Did you ask your daughter who she was with that night?”

  “When she came home the next day I tried to get through to her, but it turned into a screaming match. Needless to say, I didn’t get anything out of her.”

  “When was the last time you saw Stacy?”

  “She was here a few nights ago but didn’t stay long. The school called. She’s not been there either.”

  “Does she have her own car?”

  “Her dad went out and bought her one when she turned sixteen. I told him to wait until she improved her grades, but he thought differently. No matter what I say or do, I end up looking like the bad guy.”

  “Is her father here?” said Macy.

  “No, he’s working in the oil fields in North Dakota. Won’t be home again for a few months. It really breaks my heart. You know, she used to be the sweetest little girl, loved school, stuck close to home. Now she’s this angry stranger who stomps through the house slamming doors. I’ve been ill the past year, and she’s barely noticed.”

  “Does she do drugs?”

  “It would explain the change in her personality. She can be manipulative and cruel. It’s not how I raised her, but it’s how she turned out.”

  * * *

  Lou Turner called Macy into his office at the rear of Walleye Junction’s Police Department. He slid a bundle of papers across the desk.

  “There was another one of those anonymous e-mails last night,” said Lou. “Looks like it’s from that same group of anarchists that sent us a list of people who died of accidental overdose.”

  The e-mail opened with a question. What’s taking you so long to figure this out? People are still dying.

  “Have you had time to have a look?” asked Macy.

  Lou took a sip of his coffee. “The e-mail had several attachments. One was a Word document that summarizes several cases involving doctors who’ve been convicted for doing anything from dealing prescription drugs to running pill mills to exchanging painkiller prescriptions for sexual favors. The other documents are PDFs of the original newspaper articles. It’s all there in that pile in front of you.”

  “Any of the doctors from Montana?”

  “No, this is nationwide,” said Lou.

  “What are they trying to tell us? Weren’t the overdose victims listed in the first e-mail mostly from Montana?”

  Lou nodded. “Maybe we’ve got the same sort of problems around here, but we just don’t know it yet. The tech guys are hopeful they’ll find something in the attached Word document that can indicate the source. Gina was looking into that first e-mail. Do you know if she found anything?”

  “I’m not sure how much progress she’s made. I’ll give her a call.”

  “Where is she?” asked Lou. “She’s usually in the office before me.”

  “She had to return to Helena. I can’t guarantee that she’ll be coming back.”

  “That’s a shame. She knows her shit. How are you getting around?”

  Macy held up Aiden’s car keys. “I borrowed a car.”

  Lou sat back in his chair. “These e-mails aren’
t feeling like a hoax. They’re citing real cases. We just have to figure out how it all comes together.”

  “Do you think we’re being drip fed Philip Long’s last story?” asked Macy.

  “It’s a bit of a leap, but I suppose it’s possible.”

  “I’ve listened to his archived shows. It’s just the type of issue he’d try to tackle. He’s had numerous conversations with callers about prescription drug abuse.”

  “It would mean that someone got their hands on Philip Long’s missing work.”

  “Carla’s son, Sean, is a possibility. His girlfriend, Kristina, has that whole hacker-girl vibe going on. Might as well fit in a bit of anarchy on the side.”

  “I didn’t realize such a vibe existed,” he said.

  “Kristina has the tech guys in Helena running around in circles. As far as we can tell, she doesn’t exist outside of social media.”

  “If it is Sean who’s behind these e-mails, he needs to quit dicking around and turn himself in.” Lou rubbed his eyes. “This social media stuff is so far outside my experience I’m not sure what to do with it.”

  “It’s possible that Carla called Sean for help. If Philip Long had his laptop with him when he was abducted, it would have had his files on it. Maybe she shared the files with Sean and Kristina. You said Carla used to work in the tech industry. Downloading them onto a USB memory stick would have been easy.”

  “But why would she do that?”

  “I can only guess,” said Macy. “I was told Carla was frightened of her husband. He may have bullied her into going along with the kidnapping and she was having second thoughts.”

  “All this speculation is interesting, but it’s getting us nowhere. If Sean is too scared to come home, he’s free to call us. Meanwhile, Bob Crawley is sitting in a cell, and there’s plenty of physical evidence that puts him at the crime scene. I say we charge him with kidnapping and murder and go home for the day.” Lou sat back.

  “Tempting as that is, we’ll have to hold off for a few hours. I’m heading up to see his wife now,” said Macy. “She has given us permission to interview the children. She’s suddenly very focused on clearing her husband of any involvement.”

  “Yesterday she wanted his head on a post. What changed her mind?”

  “She says it’s for their children’s sake, but I have a feeling it’s more to do with market forces. Bob Crawley runs a publically traded company. News of his arrest got out yesterday evening and the value of the stock fell by twenty percent when trading opened this morning. A continued free fall would reduce the bottom line in any financial settlement she hopes to receive in a divorce.”

  “Nothing like a wife with a vested interest. Any word on Stacy Shaw?”

  “I spoke to her mom. Stacy hasn’t been home for three days.”

  “The officers that went around to Murphy’s Tavern to ask about Crawley found out that Stacy Shaw has been a regular there for the past six months.”

  “Stacy is Crawley’s alibi,” said Macy. “Without her he’s in trouble.”

  There was a knock on the door. A uniformed officer stepped inside and apologized for interrupting them.

  “They found Joel Edwards’s car parked illegally in an alley off Main Street. Looks like it’s been there since yesterday. From what they can tell, he’s been sleeping in the backseat.”

  “Impound it and have a couple of uniforms canvass the area. He should be close by.” The officer left and Lou rubbed his eyes. “I wonder what Joel is up to. You know that his disappearing around the same time this all went down could be a coincidence.”

  “All the same, he knew Carla as a friend. It would be nice to interview someone who may have some insight into what happened.”

  “I hear you,” said Lou.

  Macy picked up the printout of the e-mail. “Mind if I keep this?”

  Lou nodded. “I thought we’d all meet tonight for a dinner at my place to talk things through. It would be nice to get everyone in the same room. I invited Aiden Marsh as well. Gina would be a bonus, if she’s back in time.”

  “Sounds like a good idea. Can I bring anything?”

  “Just yourself. My wife is expecting us at seven.”

  “Sounds like a summons.”

  “That’s because it is,” said Lou. “Don’t be late.”

  * * *

  Lined up according to age, Adam, Finn, and Annabel Crawley sat on the living room sofa staring at Macy with varying levels of interest. Their mother, Charlotte, had kept them home from school. The unexpected day off had made them anxious rather than elated. They knew something wasn’t quite right. The arrival of two police officers didn’t ease their troubled minds. They seemed less bothered by the absence of their father. The eldest of the three had spoken briefly to introduce himself as Adam. His eyes searched out his mother before announcing that his daddy was away on business again. Annabel was holding her rescued doll tightly. She’d cried when Macy handed it to her. Between tears she smiled up at Macy like she was the patron saint of lost toys. Meanwhile, the middle one looked suspicious. Finn was not going to be swayed by Macy’s shiny new detective badge and friendly demeanor. Something was amiss, and he didn’t like it one bit. The eldest of Bob and Charlotte’s four children was up in his room. Between slamming doors, Macy had heard music pumping out into the upstairs landing. The fourteen-year-old didn’t have anything to add to the conversation so he’d barricaded himself in his room. His parting shot had been directed at his mother.

  Mom, you and dad always fuck up everything.

  Macy had been left feeling winded on her behalf. Charlotte Crawley was present, but sat a discreet distance away where the children couldn’t make eye contact. After reassuring them that she loved them no matter what and that they should always tell the truth, she’d gone quiet. There were signs of stress in her face though. Before setting off from Walleye Junction, Macy had spoken to Charlotte on the phone. Charlotte was worried. Annabel had had another difficult night of interrupted sleep. When pressed by her mother she’d hinted at some dark episode that had occurred down by the river.

  Macy gave the children another reassuring smile before introducing them to Margaret, a developmental psychologist who consulted for the state. After spending an hour talking through strategies with Charlotte, they’d agreed that it was okay for Macy to take the lead, but Margaret had been firm.

  “Children are very impressionable, so no leading questions. Let them tell their version of events. If I feel they’re getting stressed I’m going to intervene.”

  The interview was being videotaped. Macy had already caught Adam mugging for the camera. She had the impression that he would be the most cooperative of the three children and as he was nearly nine it was probable that he was the most reliable witness sitting on the sofa. She started with him first.

  “Adam, when did you build that fort that’s down by the river?”

  Adam verbalized every thought that came into his head. There was a planning stage that had gone on for a few days prior to making a start. Materials were gathered. Schedules coordinated. Twice Finn conferred with his brother through whispering in his ear.

  Adam brushed his younger brother off. “We built it last Saturday morning.”

  “It’s a nice fort,” said Macy. “Did you have any help?”

  “Annabel kept watch.”

  “Why did you need Annabel to keep watch?”

  Another whisper from Finn was followed by a quick turn to check with his mother. Charlotte told him that it was okay. She wasn’t angry with them. Adam looked down at his hands.

  “We weren’t supposed to be down there on our own,” said Adam.

  “Why do you suppose that is?” asked Macy.

  “Dad says in the spring the river is really high because the snow is melting. It’s dangerous.”

  Macy glanced down at her notes. There was the unmistakable sound of rushing water in her head. She suddenly felt cold. For a few seconds she said nothing.

  “Did you g
o near the water?” she asked.

  “Only to throw stones,” said Adam. “I swear we didn’t go in.”

  “Did anyone from the house see you down there?”

  “Daddy came looking for us, but we hid in the fort.”

  “Did you watch him?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “What was he doing?”

  “He was calling our names. He left after a few minutes.”

  “Did he do anything else?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  “Did anyone else come looking for you?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  “Did you ever see anyone else down there?”

  Annabel sunk her face into her doll’s hair. Her voice came out in breathless whisper.

  “There were two men,” said Annabel.

  “Anna, we’re not supposed to tell,” said Finn, finally breaking his silence. “They said they’d hurt us.”

  Adam put his arm around his younger brother’s shoulders.

  “It’s okay, Finn.”

  This time it was Finn who shoved his brother’s arm off.

  “You don’t know that,” said Finn.

  Macy handed Annabel a tissue. She was crying again. From the corner of her eye, Macy caught sight of Charlotte. She had her face buried in her hands.

  “Finn,” said Macy. “Would you feel safer if those men were in prison?”

  Finn nodded.

  “Would you like to help us catch them?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Adam was sitting on the edge of his seat, looking eager. He almost raised his hand to speak. Macy reached out and touched Finn’s knee very lightly.

  “I’m going to let Adam tell us what happened. Is that okay with you and Annabel?”

  Annabel stood up. “I want my mommy.”

  “That’s fine, sweetheart. Go sit with your mommy.” Macy smiled at Adam. “Adam, you can start whenever you’re ready.”

  “Do you want me to tell you about the whole afternoon or just the part when we saw the men?”

  “Why don’t you start the story right before you saw the men. What were you and Finn and Annabel doing? Picture it in your head if it helps.”