Walleye Junction

by Karin Salvalaggio

  “Kristina, this case is neither global nor glamorous. I believe a local doctor paid Sean’s parents a lot of money to kidnap Philip Long before his story on prescription drug abuse could be aired. The story would have ruined the doctor’s career. Someone else was involved in Long’s murder and I’m pretty sure Sean knows who it was.”

  Kristina stared at Macy but said nothing.

  Macy raised her voice. “Why is Sean so hell-bent on protecting the man who murdered his mother and stepfather?”

  “What are you talking about,” said Kristina, matching Macy’s tone. “Sean’s parents died of an overdose.”

  “Someone held Carla down and put a gun to her head,” said Macy. “She and Lloyd didn’t die by their own hands.”

  Kristina took a few seconds to respond. It was the first time she seemed uncertain.

  “That wasn’t in the papers,” said Kristina.

  “As you’re so keen on government conspiracies, it shouldn’t come as a surprise that the police don’t tell the press everything.”

  “I’m not saying anything more until I talk to Sean.”

  “You’re smart, Kristina. You know we’ll track down Sean eventually. He’s withholding evidence. Right now I can protect you, but if you leave it too long he’ll be charged with obstruction. Someone has already murdered three people. They’ll go after Sean if they think he knows something.” Macy lowered her gun. “He needs to come in and talk to us. Can you make that happen?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Kristina, do you really think a life on the run is what’s best for Sean? He’s just a kid. You need to give him a chance to—”

  Several shots rang out. The windows behind Macy shattered into sharp fragments that flew across the room. Macy dropped flat onto the floor and shouted at Kristina to do the same. Gunfire raked the wall above their heads. Broken glass and splintered wood showered down on them. Macy crawled behind the desk and sat next to Kristina. The lights went out at the same time as the music. Macy looked up in time to catch a flash of Kristina leaping out the back window. Macy checked the door one last time before holstering her firearm and following Kristina out into the night.

  Macy caught glimpses of Kristina as they ran along the runway’s perimeter. She was a good fifty yards ahead and moving fast. Macy followed her through an opening in the fence and headed down a narrow track that twisted through the dense wood. She was just beginning to lose her way when she rounded a bend and stumbled out into open terrain. Ahead of her the Flathead River glowed under a sky straining beneath the weight of stars. Upstream nothing moved among the low shrubs dotting the flat gray river stones. Downstream, Kristina climbed up a steep slope to where the land plateaued. As she leaped across boulders the size of cars, Macy could see her body was in silhouette. In the distance, a thin line of headlights marked the course of Route 93.

  Macy stood still and listened. It was faint at first, but she soon recognized the guttural roar of an engine. A dirt bike tore out of the trees a few dozen feet from where she stood. It skipped across the uneven terrain heading south along the shoreline, the whine of its engine fading with distance. Macy checked the plateau. If it weren’t for the soft glow of Kristina’s cigarette, Macy wouldn’t have spotted her. Seconds later the light went out and Kristina was gone.

  19

  Macy checked the time. It was coming up to three in the afternoon and she’d not slept in two days. She ordered another cup of coffee from the waitress and tried to shake herself awake. It had been nearly two hours since she spoke to Sean Spencer on the phone. She’d still been at the abandoned airfield and had to scramble to get to the diner in time for their meeting, but after waiting for almost an hour, she was worried he’d changed his mind. The diner’s front door swung open and Sean stood in the entrance looking uncertain. He appeared older than Macy expected. Taller too. When he spotted Macy, he shouldered his backpack and slowly made his way to her table.

  Sean dropped into the empty seat opposite her and removed his baseball cap. His dark hair hung across his eyes, and he had the beginnings of a beard. Macy pushed a menu across the table and told him to order something if he was hungry. He was polite when the waitress came to the table.

  “I’m relieved you came,” said Macy. “I was worried you wouldn’t show up.”

  “I didn’t have much choice. Kristina said it was either this or never seeing her again.”

  “Do you have any questions for me before we get started?” asked Macy.

  He began to speak but stopped. “I’m sorry,” he said. “This is harder than I thought it would be.”

  “I imagine it’s been a rough time for you.”

  He cleared his throat.

  “You told Kristina that my mom and Lloyd were murdered. Is that true or were you feeding her some bullshit line so I’d talk to you?”

  “I’m afraid it’s true. Do you want me to go into detail?”

  He looked away. “Not now.”

  “Sean, someone else was involved in Philip Long’s kidnapping and murder. It’s probable they killed Long and your parents as well. I think you know who I’m talking about.”

  There were tears in his eyes.

  “It was my cousin, Kyle,” he said.

  Sean looked up as their food arrived. He’d ordered two double cheeseburgers, French fries, and a Coke. Macy’s salad looked anemic in comparison. She pushed it to one side and ordered a cheeseburger for herself.

  “We’ve had our suspicions about your cousin, but we have four people swearing he was in Missoula when Philip Long was kidnapped and murdered,” said Macy.

  “Don’t believe anything Kyle or his friends say. I’m sure they’re all involved in what’s been going on. My mom and Lloyd knew Kyle couldn’t be trusted, and they still fell for his bullshit.”

  “I saw your house. I know what kind of debt your parents were in. They were pretty desperate.”

  “Kyle told my parents they’d kidnapped Philip Long because of the radio show he’d done on the local militias. There were people who wanted to teach him a lesson. My mom says Lloyd threatened to kill her if she didn’t go along with it. I don’t know why she didn’t go to the police when she had the chance. It’s just one of the many stupid decisions she’s made over the years.”

  “How were they compensated?”

  “Initially some of their debts were paid off, but they’d been promised some extra cash if everything went according to plan. My mom realized what was really going on when she looked at the files stored on Philip Long’s laptop. I don’t know why she risked her life to save a man she hardly knew, but I’m proud of her for taking a stand. The next time she was alone in the house with Philip Long she set him free.”

  “He didn’t get very far.”

  Sean talked between mouthfuls. “Kyle showed up at the house just as he was making a run for it. My mom gave Kyle some bullshit line that she’d been overpowered, and he took off after Long on his dirt bike.”

  “Kyle said he doesn’t ride one.”

  Sean finished off his first cheeseburger.

  “Like I said, the guy lies all the time.” Sean set a memory stick on the table. “My mom downloaded some of Philip Long’s files and gave them to me for safekeeping. Unfortunately, the drive was corrupted. I already sent you all the files I could.”

  Macy studied the memory stick. There was always a chance the tech department could get more information off it. She’d been hoping for more, but this would have to do for now.

  “Sean, when did you meet with your mother?”

  “I got a call from her the day after Philip Long was murdered. We met at a turnout near here. She didn’t think Kyle believed her story about what happened. She was scared of what he might do to her. I tried to get her to come with me, but she wouldn’t leave Lloyd.”

  “Did your mom mention a doctor named Whitaker?”

  “Philip Long told my mom that Whitaker was the reason he was being held captive.”

  “Did he say anythin
g else?”

  “She was trying to get him out of that house alive. They didn’t have time to go into detail.”

  “We’ll need to take a formal statement from you at the police station.”

  “Will I be arrested?”

  “Not if I can help it.”

  “What happens to Kyle?”

  “I’ll get a warrant to search his home,” said Macy. “We need to find hard evidence that ties him to Philip Long’s death.”

  “Don’t worry,” he said. “You’ll find what you’re looking for.”

  “How can you be so sure about that?”

  Instead of answering Sean Spencer started in on his second cheeseburger.

  “Sean?”

  He wiped his mouth with his napkin. “Let’s just say that I’ve made things easy for you.”

  * * *

  Kyle Miller stood in the rain outside his home with his hands deep in his pockets. His oversized jacket gave him the appearance of someone who was being swallowed up by events. An officer was stationed next to his front door. The cul-de-sac was crowded with minivans and children’s play equipment. Macy and Gina exited the patrol car and went over to speak to Kyle.

  “I don’t know what you’re expecting to find,” he said. “I had nothing to do with Philip Long’s death.”

  “We have a witness who says otherwise,” said Macy. “Unless you want to take the blame for everything that’s happened, I suggest you start talking.”

  * * *

  The house was swarming with crime scene techs and police officers. Macy found Lou staring out an upstairs bedroom window. The rain had set in an hour earlier and didn’t look like it would stop anytime soon. The garden was a rectangle of freshly laid lawn. Kyle had all the trappings of a suburban homeowner—lawn furniture, a barbecue, and a shed. All that was missing was the wife and kids.

  “I hope this pays off,” said Lou.

  “Me too,” said Macy. “Have you seen Ryan?”

  “He was in the kitchen earlier. By the way, where did you park Sean Spencer? I don’t want to risk losing him again.”

  Macy squeezed Lou’s arm. “Don’t worry. He’s at the police station. I told them to arrest him if he tried to leave.”

  Kyle’s kitchen was small but practical. The window faced the cul-de-sac. Neighbors were gathering across the street. Children raced back and forth on their bikes. Macy pulled her phone out and called her mother.

  “Hi, Mom, is everything okay? I noticed a missed call.”

  “Sorry, I didn’t want to disturb you at work.”

  “Don’t be silly, we’d never talk if you didn’t.”

  “I just felt like hearing your voice,” said Ellen.

  “That’s the best reason to call.”

  “How’s it going?”

  Macy wandered around the kitchen opening cupboards.

  “There have been some developments. Things may be winding down sooner than we initially thought.”

  “Oh, that’s good to hear. Everything okay with Aiden?”

  “I’m not going to lie. It’s been difficult.”

  “That’s a shame. He seems like a nice man.”

  “Mom, I should get back to work. Chat later?”

  “Of course, give me a call when you’re free.”

  Macy slipped the phone in her pocket and opened the refrigerator. The contents were sparse but well organized. She picked up a can of Red Bull and held it in her gloved hand. It didn’t mean anything. It was only a few cans. There’d been nearly a case in Ron Forester’s refrigerator. She started to close the door and stopped. Condiments lined the inside of the door—barbecue sauce, butter, cream cheese, dill pickles, honey mustard, ketchup. She checked the other kitchen cabinets. Everything from spices to breakfast cereals was alphabetized. It was a shame they couldn’t use it as proof of Kyle’s involvement.

  Macy went into the living room and opened the sliding doors that led out onto a small wooden deck. The rain was now falling in thick sheets. The garden shed sat in the corner of the yard. Its door was secured with a padlock. Ryan came over and stood next to her.

  “Lou said you were looking for me,” said Ryan.

  “I was just wondering when you were going to have a look inside that shed?”

  “I was waiting for it to stop raining.”

  “If there’s a dirt bike somewhere on this property, that’s the only place left it could be. What do you think?”

  Ryan held up a key. “Kyle gave us the key voluntarily so it’s hard to believe there’s something in there that would incriminate him.”

  “Then I think we should ask Kyle to open it,” said Macy, thinking back on her conversation with Sean Spencer. “I doubt he’ll mind.”

  * * *

  Kyle slid the padlock off the catch and dropped it and the key into an evidence bag Macy was holding. He stepped away and crossed his arms. Rain was streaming off his hood.

  “This is a total waste of time,” said Kyle.

  Ryan swung the shed door open and stepped away so Macy could see what was inside.

  “Seems like time well spent to me,” said Macy.

  A dirt bike was parked in the middle of the shed. The wheels were caked with mud. A helmet, leather jacket and motorcycle boots sat on the shelf next to it.

  “Is this your bike, Kyle?” asked Macy.

  Kyle didn’t answer.

  Ryan used a flashlight to get a closer look. “There’s a serial number,” he said. “We should know whether it’s his soon enough.”

  “It’s not mine,” said Kyle.

  “Are you sure?” said Macy, making a point to check the shed’s exterior carefully. “There’s no sign of a break-in and a few seconds ago you stated that there was only one key.”

  “They … they must have picked the lock.”

  Ryan pointed to the leather riding gear stashed on the shelves.

  “What about all this stuff, Kyle?” said Ryan. “Do you recognize it?”

  Kyle closed his eyes. “Sean did … did this. He’s trying to set me up!”

  “Kyle, during your initial interview you said you didn’t own or ride a bike,” said Macy. “I’m asking you again. Is this stuff yours?”

  “I said it wasn’t.”

  “Why do I have a feeling the DNA will say otherwise?” said Macy.

  “Nothing should be in here,” said Kyle. “Someone plan … planted it.”

  Ryan held up a handgun he’d found in a flowerpot.

  “Macy, is this your SIG?” He placed it in an evidence bag before handing it to her. “Looks like there are some nice prints on it.”

  Lou Turner came up and stood behind Kyle. “What do you think Macy? Is that your gun?”

  Macy studied the firearm carefully. It felt heavier than she remembered and there was damage to the barrel and handle she didn’t recognize. She held the bag close so she could make out the serial number. She read it twice to be sure.

  “It’s mine,” she said, blinking back tears. For a few seconds all she could see was Philip Long. He’d looked so lost and alone on the road that night.

  Lou twisted Kyle’s arms behind his back and slapped a pair of handcuffs on in one easy motion.

  “That’s always been my favorite part,” said Lou. “I’ll read him his rights and take him to the station. You coming?”

  Macy tilted her head up to the sky and let the falling rain wash over her face. She didn’t want anyone to see that she was close to crying.

  “I’ll be along in a minute,” she said.

  Ryan came and stood next to her.

  “I kind of feel sorry for Kyle. His surprise actually seemed genuine.” Ryan nudged her. “Are you okay?” he asked.

  Macy handed him the evidence bag.

  “I’m not now but I will be,” she said, heading back toward the house.

  20

  Emma sat in a small office waiting for Lou Turner and Macy Greeley. She placed a folder on the desk in front of her and plugged her father’s external hard drive in
to her laptop. News of Kyle’s arrest for kidnapping and murder had spread quickly. She’d also heard that a police officer was standing guard outside Dr. Whitaker’s hospital room. She was hopeful his arrest was also imminent.

  Lou Turner followed Macy Greeley into the room. Emma stood up to say hello and shake their hands. Neither looked as if they’d slept recently. They sat down in the chairs on either side of Emma and listened quietly as she opened the folders on her father’s hard drive one by one.

  “My father has been investigating Dr. Whitaker for years,” said Emma. “He was very thorough. He listed names of sources that were willing to go on record, dates that they met with Whitaker to get prescriptions filled, and amounts of cash exchanged. There are also transcripts from over thirty interviews he conducted with Whitaker’s former patients and several dealers who claimed to have used Whitaker as a source of drugs in the past. Some of Whitaker’s patients’ medical records are also on the hard drive. They all either died under his care or had been massively overprescribed opiate-based painkillers.”

  Macy read through what was on the screen in front of her, occasionally asking Emma to scroll down so she could see more.

  “Emma,” she said. “There’s a lot of detailed information here, and some of it appears to have come directly from the clinic’s mainframe.”

  “My father hacked into the system using my mother’s work account,” said Emma, hoping she was right. “My mother is useless with computers. She wouldn’t have known how to help him.”

  Lou pointed at the screen. “What is this folder up here that’s labeled AUDIO?”

  “It’s mostly interviews he’d recorded, but there are a couple of files that are especially interesting. One is a conversation my father had with Dr. Whitaker shortly before he was kidnapped. After attempting to bribe my father, Whitaker threatened him with financial ruin if he aired the story about painkillers on his radio show.”

  “And the other recording?” asked Macy.

  “A friend of my father’s posed as a patient and recorded his visit to Dr. Whitaker’s office. At first he pretends to be in pain, but then admits he’s looking for Vicodin, OxyContin, and methadone because he has a habit. Whitaker agrees to write him a prescription, but the transaction never takes place because my father’s friend didn’t have enough cash on him.”