Walleye Junction

by Karin Salvalaggio

  “Oh, let her have her fun,” said Macy. “I think she’s been having difficulties at home.”

  “Marital problems?”

  “No,” said Macy. “Her husband seems to be a saint. I think she’s exhausted from trying to work and raise a family. There are only so many hours in a day.”

  Aiden held her a little tighter.

  “Are you worried about how you’ll manage working without your mother here to look after Luke?”

  “I am.”

  He hesitated. “You could cut back on your hours, maybe even try something new.”

  “I could.”

  “But you won’t.”

  Macy stepped away from Aiden so she could look him in the eye. “Aiden, I love my job. If we’re going to commit to a future together we have to figure out a way to make it work as well.”

  “So, no compromise?”

  “I’m leaving my life in Helena behind, I’d say I’m compromising enough already.”

  Aiden took her hand. “I think we’re too tired to talk about this now.”

  Macy didn’t disagree.

  He kissed her good night.

  “I should get back inside before Gina opens up another bottle,” said Macy. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”

  * * *

  Macy’s cell phone rang as she was opening the door to her hotel room.

  “What’s wrong, Lou?” asked Macy. “Did Gina run off with your favorite bottle of wine?”

  Lou didn’t laugh. “I apologize for the late call, but there’s been a development.”

  Macy let her bag slide off her shoulder onto the bed. She wanted to follow it, but had a feeling she should remain standing.

  “I’ve received a call from Kalispell PD,” said Lou. “They found Stacy Shaw. She’s staying at a hotel just outside of town. According to the clerk the room was booked for a week in Stacy Shaw’s name and paid for in cash.”

  Macy wrote down the address. “I’ll head down there now.”

  “I appreciate that,” said Lou. “I’ve had a few too many glasses of wine to be much use to anyone this evening.”

  “No worries. I’ll let you know if I find out anything of interest.”

  Macy opened a Diet Coke she’d stashed in the hotel room’s mini fridge and stared out the window. Streetlights lit up Main Street like a stage, but once she hit the city limits she’d be on a very dark road. The drive to Kalispell would take her past the sight of the accident. She pictured Philip Long swaying barefoot in the driving rain. He’d been trying to tell her something that night. She needed to figure out what he’d wanted to say. Macy fished Gina’s car keys out of her pocket and contemplated making the drive on her own. Bringing along Gina was out of the question as she’d drunk even more wine than Lou. Macy took a sip of Diet Coke and decided it was best that she not call Aiden. She really wasn’t up to having a serious conversation, and the drive to Kalispell would give them too much time to talk. She grabbed her bag and headed out into the night.

  * * *

  The landscape spun away in a succession of billboards and road signs. Macy kept her eyes on the road, but her mind was elsewhere. There was definitely something solid about her relationship with Aiden, but try as she might, she couldn’t picture a way around the obstacles that were blocking their way. She’d have to move out of her mother’s home in Helena. She’d have to hire a stranger to look after her son. Her career would suffer. She’d have to compromise. They’d not talked about kids. Aiden might want to have more children. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that.

  Halfway to Kalispell, Macy came to a stop and put on the emergency lights. A few dozen elk stood frozen in the glare of the headlights. She shut them off and waited. First a trickle, then a flood; the herd edged across the highway cautiously. At one point her vehicle was surrounded by hundreds of them. Their hooves clattered on the pavement and steam rose from their snouts. They peered into the windows as they bumped and brushed against the side of the car, their dark eyes wide and anxious. Macy sat back in her seat. There were no other cars coming or going. She closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep. She awoke to an empty highway.

  * * *

  After so much darkness, the town of Kalispell glowed like daybreak. The navigation system directed Macy to an exit north of town. The road narrowed as it wove through stands of solid looking pines. She caught occasional glimpses of putting greens and fairways so finely mowed they shone like glass in the starlight. She passed by the clubhouse and hotel as she followed the route to the condominiums that dotted the grounds. She was looking for number sixty-eight.

  Stacy Shaw had refused to leave her bedroom in the two-story condominium set in the woods next to the thirteenth hole.

  “I haven’t broken the law,” said Stacy. “The room is paid for, so I’m staying.”

  As she wasn’t a suspect but only a witness, Macy couldn’t fault Stacy’s logic, but that didn’t stop Macy from wanting to kick some sense into the girl.

  Bob Crawley had been right about one thing. Stacy Shaw looked much older than eighteen. She was lying back on her bed wearing a white terrycloth robe. Her long brown hair fell across her shoulders. Her makeup was thick but flawless. She didn’t seem to have any sense of shame. She’d been alone with two male police officers for nearly an hour and hadn’t thought to get dressed. Macy picked a bottle of nail varnish off the table. It was a drugstore brand.

  “Stacy,” said Macy. “Who’s paying for all this?”

  Stacy looked bored. “Online he goes by the name Max. He likes playing golf, is married, and has a preference for brunettes.”

  “That’s not a lot to go on.”

  “It’s enough.”

  “Maybe if you were meeting for a cup of coffee, but that’s not what’s going on here. You do realize that you’ve agreed to spend a week with a complete stranger in a hotel room.” Macy lifted the curtain and looked outside. “The clubhouse is at least a mile away. No one would know if you were in trouble.”

  Stacy’s eyes flicked to the silent television screen. A music video was playing. They’d agreed the television could stay on, but the volume was to remain off.

  “I don’t care that you have a problem with my lifestyle,” said Stacy. “I’m not doing anything wrong, otherwise you would have arrested me.”

  “When exactly was Max supposed to meet you here?”

  “Three days ago. He sent me a message saying that he was running late but that I should stay here on my own. Between spa treatments, I watch television and order room service. It’s paradise.” Stacy stretched out on the bed like a cat. “And it’s all paid for.”

  “Do you have any other photos of Max?”

  “Just the one from the Web site. I already gave it to these guys.”

  “It must be kind of boring sitting here by yourself.”

  Stacy checked her fingernails. “I have to be here when he arrives.”

  “Your mother is worried about you.”

  “As you can plainly see, I’m fine.”

  “We need to talk about your relationship with Bob Crawley,” said Macy.

  “I don’t know anyone named Bob Crawley.”

  Macy showed her a photo.

  “Oh, him,” said Stacy,

  “What name did he give you?”

  “Steve.”

  “When was the last time you saw Steve?”

  “That’s none of your business.”

  “Bob aka Steve is going to be charged with murder if he can’t account for his whereabouts. He says he was with you on the night in question.”

  “What date did he give you?” asked Stacy.

  “I’d rather you tell me.”

  Stacy rolled her eyes as she held out her hand. “Hand me my phone.”

  Macy tossed the bejeweled smartphone to the girl.

  Stacy scrolled through the dates in her calendar. “The last time I saw him was Tuesday the twelfth of May. Is that the date you were thinking of?”

  “Yes, it is. I’ll need de
tails.”

  Stacy sat back against the pillows again. Her terrycloth robe hung open, exposing one of her breasts. Macy told her to straighten it, but Stacy ignored her.

  “Steve likes role-play,” said Stacy. “Cheerleader, naughty schoolgirl, that sort of thing. On the night in question I pretended to be his son’s school friend who needed a lift home, which was of course our little joke. We did it three times if I recall—”

  Macy interrupted her. “Stacy, that’s enough. I want to know where you met Bob Crawley and how long you were together.”

  Stacy checked her phone again. “The Valley Inn south of Collier. I checked us in at ten. He left sometime after three. I stayed until morning.”

  “And you’re sure Steve and Bob Crawley are the same man?”

  “I have no doubt whatsoever.” Stacy reached for the hotel phone on the bedside table. “Are you hungry? I could order us some room service. The kitchen stays open all night.”

  “Thank you, but I’ve already eaten.”

  Macy took one last glance around the room. She’d looked into renting vacation homes in the Flathead Valley that weren’t nearly as nice as this. A two-bedroom condo on a golf course must cost at least $500 a night.

  “Is it normal for guys you meet online to be so generous?”

  Stacy picked up the remote and flicked through the channels.

  “All the time,” said Stacy. “I’ve actually stayed in nicer places.”

  “Stacy, I need your attention for a few seconds longer.”

  Stacy laughed at something she saw on television. It was a scene involving an animated horse. It cut to a commercial and she turned to face Macy again.

  “I’m all yours.”

  Macy set her business card down next to the bottle of nail polish.

  “At the moment this may seem like a great way to live, but things will change. I want you to call me if you get into trouble.”

  Stacy held Macy’s gaze as she flicked the card off the bedside table with her manicured finger. It fluttered to the floor.

  “I’ll take that under advisement,” said Stacy.

  12

  The ski resort’s main restaurant had been refurbished since Emma had last been there. Outside the windows, the Whitefish Range blushed pink in the east and the dark silhouette of the ski lift hovered over the grass-covered slopes to the west. She found a table in the bar a discreet distance away from the entrance and hung her jacket and scarf on the back of a chair. She sat down and tried to relax. She’d counted on it being quiet in the off-season, but there was a wedding party staying at the resort and the bar was crowded. The cocktail waitress who eventually spotted her wove through the tables with a sour expression plastered to her face.

  “What can I get you this evening?”

  Emma ordered a glass of white wine from the menu.

  “Anything to eat?”

  “Maybe later. I’m waiting for someone.”

  There was a shout and one of the bar stools crashed to the floor. The waitress said something Emma didn’t catch.

  “Pardon?” said Emma.

  “Watch out for those guys,” the waitress said. “They’ve been drinking since noon.”

  “Charming.”

  “I hope you’re not here for a quiet meal.”

  Emma risked a quick glance at the bar. They were all big, bearded, and wearing oversized T-shirts. A couple wore ball caps. None were steady on their feet.

  “It will be fine,” said Emma.

  “Well, let me know if they give you any trouble. I’m looking for an excuse to chuck them out.”

  Emma scrolled through her e-mails, taking occasional glances toward the bar and the double doors. Nathan was running late, but since she’d delayed their meeting four times she didn’t feel she was in any position to complain. She pictured him sitting down to dinner with Cynthia. She’d be discussing the wedding while he was planning his escape. A shadow fell over her table. The man didn’t wait for an invitation. He pulled out the empty chair and sat down.

  Emma barely looked up from her phone. “That seat is taken.”

  “I think you should come join us for a drink at the bar.”

  “I’m waiting for someone.”

  He turned and hollered to his friends. “She’s waiting for someone. What do I do now?”

  Emma answered for his friends but kept her voice low. “Your friends think you should go back to the bar and leave me alone.”

  He tried to snatch her phone from her hands. “What’s so interesting on that thing anyway?”

  She glared at him. “I want you to leave.”

  “I like it here.”

  She grabbed her bag and he grabbed hold of her arm.

  “Where you going?”

  Emma pulled away. “Let go of me.”

  One of his friends intervened. “Joe, what’s wrong with you? Can’t you take a hint? She’s not interested.”

  Joe let go of Emma’s arm and turned to the window to sulk.

  “Sorry about that,” said the second man. “He’s had a bit too much to drink.”

  “No harm done,” said Emma, leaving her glass of wine untouched. “I was just leaving.”

  “It’s getting dark. Can I walk you out to your car?”

  Emma slipped on her coat. “Thank you, but I’ll be fine on my own.”

  * * *

  Emma walked alone through the dimly lit parking lot clutching her car keys. A pickup truck was parked a few spaces away from her hatchback, but otherwise there were few cars. For a second she thought it might be Nathan’s. As she drew near she saw the sign for Flathead Valley Security on the door. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that someone was sitting in the driver’s seat. She turned at the sound of footsteps. The drunken man who’d come to her table had followed her outside. His arms were held up in a gesture of surrender. She told him to stay where he was. He thrust his thumb in the direction of the hotel bar.

  “I was just awful … awful back there.” He staggered a few feet farther. “I need to apologize.”

  Emma pulled her car door open. “That’s not necessary. I’m fine.”

  “Don’t be that way. The guys gave me a hard time. I need to say sorry.”

  “I don’t need your apologies. I need you to get away from me.”

  He lunged forward and grabbed hold of the door before she could shut it. He stunk of cigarettes and whiskey. His red face was inches away.

  “Look, I just want to say…”

  The man’s head snapped to the side and for a brief moment, he slumped into Emma’s lap before an arm locked around his neck and he was dragged away.

  Emma stumbled out of the car after him. At first she couldn’t understand what she was seeing. The man was facedown on the pavement. Kyle Miller stood over him kicking him again and again. His blond hair had fallen across his eyes and his mouth held a determined line.

  “Kyle?” said Emma. “Stop it! That’s enough!”

  Breathing heavily, Kyle backed off. Blood poured out of his nose. He wiped it with his sleeve before rounding on the man again. He tried to swing his leg forward, but Emma caught Kyle by the arm and pulled him away. Kyle spit up a stream of blood.

  “You’re hurt,” said Emma, leading him to her car.

  Kyle pinched his nose. “It’s nothing. The asshole caught me with his elbow.”

  Emma popped open her trunk and grabbed a roll of gauze from a first aid kit. She held it up to Kyle’s nose.

  “I can do that,” he said.

  “He just wouldn’t take no for an answer,” she said, checking to make sure the man was still lying prone on the pavement. “I don’t want to think what would have happened if you hadn’t come along.”

  “He’s just some stupid drunk.”

  Emma shook her head. “I used to think Walleye Junction was the safest place on earth.”

  “By most standards it still is,” Kyle said, tilting his head forward. Blood puddled beneath him. “Didn’t you used to live in Chicago?�
��

  Emma barely said yes.

  “Well, Walleye Junction is like a trip to Disneyland compared to a city like that.”

  Emma tried to have a closer look at Kyle’s face. “You should have that checked out. It looks broken.”

  “Emma, it’s only a nosebleed.”

  “You can never be too careful.”

  Kyle pulled the gauze away. “Look, it’s stopped bleeding. I’m fine.”

  Emma risked walking closer to the man who’d followed her out into the parking lot. He was lying quite still on the asphalt. She nudged him with her foot and he rolled to the side and moaned.

  “We should get out of here before someone comes outside,” said Emma.

  “I haven’t done anything wrong,” said Kyle. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  Kyle leaned against the side of her car and she joined him.

  “I wasn’t expecting that from you,” she said, gesturing to the man.

  “How do you mean?”

  “You’re a guy who used to spend all his time hiding out in the library. I’ve never seen this side of you. You beat the crap out of him.”

  He hesitated. “That makes two of us.”

  “Not your usual MO?”

  “Far from it. I don’t know what came over me. One minute I was writing an e-mail and the next I was pulling him off you.”

  The man on the ground moaned and Kyle told him to shut up. Headlights swept across the dark parking lot. A pickup truck sped toward them, coming to a stop a few yards away. Kyle tilted his chin.

  “It’s your boyfriend coming to the rescue.”

  “Nathan isn’t my boyfriend,” said Emma.

  “I hear he’s told Cynthia he’s having second thoughts.”

  “That has nothing to do with me.”

  “I think you’ll find that it has everything to do with you,” said Kyle.

  Nathan studied the man lying on the ground.

  “He still breathing?” asked Nathan.

  Kyle spit out some blood.

  “Only because Emma called me off.”

  Nathan laughed.

  “What’s so funny?” asked Kyle.

  “Nothing. Everything.” Nathan turned to Emma. “Sorry, I’m so late. Were you coming or going?”

  “I was going.” Emma pointed at the man sprawled across the pavement. “He followed me outside.”