Walleye Junction

by Karin Salvalaggio

  Macy lowered her voice. “Sorry, but I actually have a date.”

  Gina swung her chair around to face Macy. “You are a dark horse. Tell me everything. Who’s the lucky guy?”

  “Aiden Marsh.”

  Gina raised her voice several octaves. “Well done, Special Investigator Greeley. He’s seriously hot.”

  Macy felt the color rise in her cheeks. Even though she was mortified, she couldn’t stop smiling.

  “Gina, do you think you could speak a little louder? I’m not sure the guys across the room heard you.”

  “Is this a first date?”

  “No,” Macy admitted. “We’ve been seeing each other since last summer.”

  “Why all the secrecy?”

  Macy puffed out her cheeks. “That’s a tricky one. I’m not really sure why I’ve been so hesitant to take it public.”

  Gina cocked her head to one side. “You’ve recently had your private life on show. Your apprehension is justifiable.”

  As usual Gina was spot on. Prior to Ray’s arrest, Macy was obliged to give investigators a detailed account of their relationship. She couldn’t fault them for their professionalism, but it still felt like she was being judged. After word of her relationship with Ray was leaked to the public, things got a lot worse.

  “You’re right,” said Macy. “But it’s not just that. Aiden wants to live together. It would mean moving up here.”

  “That’s a tough call. Seems like you’d be giving up a lot.”

  “He actually suggested that I cut back on my hours or change careers altogether. He doesn’t seem to understand how much I love what I do.”

  “You could always get a transfer to the Kalispell office,” said Gina. “It’s not too far from Wilmington Creek. If it doesn’t work out, you head back to Helena with your tail between your legs.”

  Macy pushed her chair away from the desk. “I should make a move. I’ll give you a shout if our plans change. Aiden mentioned something about going to see some live music.”

  “Ryan and I have exhausted all the entertainment possibilities around here. A change of venue would be most welcome.”

  “I’ll let you know. Otherwise I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Gina nodded. “Just be honest with him, Macy. Aiden needs to know where your head is.”

  “Thanks for the advice,” said Macy. “I’ll call you later.”

  * * *

  Macy found Aiden sitting on the back porch sorting through his fishing gear. He shielded his eyes from the late afternoon sun and smiled up at her.

  “How’s my favorite special investigator?” he asked.

  “Exhausted, but satisfied.”

  He held out his arms and she settled onto his lap.

  “Did you finally get your man?” asked Aiden, pulling her close.

  “It was a good week. I managed to get two men.”

  “You are clever.”

  “I am.”

  She laid her head on his shoulder.

  “I need to say something,” he said.

  “I think we both have things to say.”

  “You’re going to have to let me go first this time.”

  Now that Macy was with Aiden, everything felt crystal clear. Given time, she thought, she could love this man.

  “I’m listening,” she said.

  “I spoke to Charlotte Crawley yesterday.”

  Macy raised an eyebrow. “Small world. I just spoke to her a few minutes ago,” she said.

  “About the case?”

  Macy nodded. “Kyle Miller admitted to being with Lloyd Spencer on the day he planted the evidence in the fire pit and threatened her children. They were hoping to frame Bob for Philip’s murder.”

  “Did you figure out how Stacy Shaw factored into the investigation?”

  “The detective Charlotte hired to tail Bob works as a subcontractor for Flathead Valley Security. Everything he found out about Bob went through their system. Kyle decided it would be easy to set Bob up. He even went so far as to create an online profile using the name Max to lure Stacy down to Kalispell for a week. I’m not sure what his plans for Stacy were after that.”

  “Thankfully, she’s still breathing.”

  Macy hesitated. “So, what did you and Charlotte talk about?”

  “A lot, actually. Bob has moved back in.”

  “Seriously?”

  “That was my reaction too, but aside from giving her full access to his phone and computer, he’s promised to go to therapy a couple of times a week. Maybe there’s hope for them yet.”

  “You have to admire Charlotte’s determination to keep the family together.”

  “Charlotte asked how we were doing, and I told her you weren’t as enthusiastic about the idea of moving up here as I hoped you would be. I was expecting Charlotte to be sympathetic. Instead I got an earful.”

  “I’m liking her more and more,” said Macy.

  “Anyway, I wanted to say that I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have put so much pressure on you. Asking you to give up your career so you could move in with me was out of line.” He held Macy a little tighter. “I don’t want to lose you, but I also don’t want to change who you are.”

  “But where does that leave us? You’re tied to your job here, and I’m in Helena.”

  “I’m handing in my notice on Monday.”

  Macy sat up. “But you love your job.”

  “Yes, but I love fishing more.”

  “Fishing doesn’t pay the bills.”

  “Have a little faith. There is a master plan.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “Charlotte has decided to invest a great deal of money in my fishing lodge. The plans have expanded to include a hotel and spa, which she will manage. Think about it, Macy. I’ll have much more flexibility. The lodge will shut down for much of the off-season. It will mean I can come down to Helena to be with you for months at a time.”

  “Are you sure about this? It’s still a far cry from living together full time.”

  “I’m willing to wait if you are.”

  Macy didn’t know what to say. No one had ever been willing to sacrifice so much to be with her. Aiden wasn’t asking her to change a thing.

  “Now,” said Aiden. “I know I promised to take you out for some live music tonight, but I figured we’d go down to the river instead. It’s time you had your first fly-fishing lesson.”

  “What about dinner?”

  “All packed up and ready to go.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Wine?”

  “One red and one white.”

  “It’s going to be dark soon.”

  “We’ll build a fire.”

  “You’ve thought of everything.”

  Aiden hesitated. “Macy, did you have something you wanted to say?”

  Macy pressed her lips against his and held them there, but Aiden wasn’t going to let his question go unanswered.

  “Macy,” he said, pushing her away. “You’re not going to distract me that easily. I need to know what you’re thinking.”

  “I’m thinking you’re almost perfect.”

  “Almost?” he said.

  “Well, there is one little problem.”

  “Oh, yeah? What’s that?”

  Macy cracked a smile. “I’m going to miss seeing you in uniform. Any chance you’ll get to keep it?”

  22

  It was late when Emma crept into the kitchen and found a roll of garbage bags. She spent the rest of the night quietly dismantling her past. She finally turned off the light at five in the morning. She slept through her alarm, only waking when her mother knocked on her bedroom door. Francine eyed the empty walls and overflowing garbage bags as she sat perched on the edge of Emma’s bed. The day had barely begun and Francine already sounded exhausted.

  “Lou Turner called me an hour ago to tell me they’ve charged Peter with Lucy Winfrey’s murder. They identified a fingerprint on the syringe as his.”

  Emma couldn’t look her mother in
the eye. “He was giving drugs to Lucy in exchange for sex.”

  Francine’s voice broke. “She was only a child.”

  “They’re also going to charge him with dealing drugs out of his clinic.”

  “Was he responsible for Philip’s death?”

  “Yes, but they may not be able to prove it.” Emma paused. “You’ll probably be questioned again.”

  “Why would they need to speak to me? I’ve already told them everything I know.”

  “Dad knew things about Dr. Whitaker’s practice that weren’t in the public domain. It looks like he hacked into the clinic’s computers using your account. When you’re asked, I want you to tell them that you knew nothing about what was going on. Do you understand?”

  “Emma, I was telling the truth when I said I didn’t know what your father was working on. There is something I’ve been keeping from you, though.”

  Francine slipped a small black cell phone out of her pocket and put it on the bed between them.

  “This was dropped off at the house the same day your father was kidnapped,” said Francine. “It’s how the kidnappers contacted me. They threatened to hurt you and Philip if I said anything to the police. It’s why I didn’t call you to tell you what happened to your father. More than anything, I needed to know you were safe.”

  Emma wrapped her arms around her mother and held her close. For a long time neither of them spoke.

  “I really thought you didn’t love me anymore,” said Emma.

  Francine stroked her daughter’s hair. “I’ve missed you so much.”

  “I’ve missed you too.”

  Emma leaned back on the pillows and stared at the phone.

  “When was the last time they contacted you?” asked Emma.

  “Friday morning. They always called me at the same time of day. When I didn’t hear anything over the weekend, I thought it was finally over.”

  “It is over,” said Emma. She picked up the phone and placed it on the bedside table. “We need to put the past behind us and move on. I thought we could start with my room.”

  “Seems like you had a long night.”

  “Once I got going I couldn’t stop,” said Emma. “What time is it anyway?”

  “Half past nine.”

  “I’ve overslept.”

  Francine took Emma’s hand. “I’m afraid we have to get moving. We need to be at the cemetery by eleven.”

  “Isn’t there a service at the church beforehand?”

  “I spoke to the reverend after I got off the phone with Lou,” said Francine. “I can’t mourn your father in a church Peter Whitaker paid for. We’ll have a short service at the cemetery.”

  “And the wake?” asked Emma.

  “It will take place at my friend Mary’s house. It’s all settled.”

  * * *

  Francine was silent during the drive up to the cemetery. Her hands were folded neatly in her lap, and she stared straight ahead. Emma tried to concentrate on her driving but there were too many conflicting emotions coming at her at once. She was worried her mother might be charged as an accessory. All it would take was one person at the doctor’s office pointing a finger in Francine’s direction. As it was Francine’s husband who brought all of Dr. Whitaker’s crimes to light, it was probable someone might be vindictive enough to want to bring Francine down.

  Sunlight barely pushed through the thick canopy of trees that lined the drive to the cemetery’s parking lot. There was already a crowd of mourners gathered near the entrance gate. As she pulled into a space, Emma spotted Caleb among them. She was so nervous she dropped the keys between the seats.

  Francine took hold of her daughter’s hand. “Emma, it’s going to be okay. Pretty soon everyone is going to know what really happened the night Lucy died. Caleb can’t hurt you anymore.”

  “Has someone told him?” she asked.

  “Maybe, but I doubt he understands. If he says something, do yourself a favor and ignore it.”

  “Easier said than done.”

  Francine fingered the cross at her throat. “This is a hard day for both of us.”

  Emma watched Lucy’s father from behind the windshield. As usual he was leaning heavily on his cane. The woman who’d buttressed him so efficiently at the church reception was standing nearby. Emma hadn’t realized until that moment that the human buttress was none other than Nathan’s fiancée Cynthia. Cynthia had stationed herself next to her intended, but Nathan had his hands wedged deeply in his pockets and was turned slightly away from her. As far as Emma could tell, it didn’t seem like Nathan wanted to be anywhere near Cynthia.

  Francine’s voice was as crisp as new bills. “Emma, it’s time.”

  Several of Francine’s friends came forward as they stepped out of the car. Dot Whitaker stood apart from them. She wore dark sunglasses and an oversized hat. As they made their way along the main walkway, Emma risked a quick peek at Lucy’s grave. The flowers she’d left were still there. Ahead of her, Caleb’s white head bobbed up and down, glowing like a halo in the late morning sun. He shuffled along, talking to Nathan while Cynthia tottered after them in her high heels. Beside Emma, her mother sniffed quietly, occasionally needing a supporting arm, but for the most part making her own way to her husband’s final resting place.

  As Emma stood above her father’s open grave, a sense of vertigo played games with her balance, and the smell of newly cut earth pinched her nose. She imagined the gravedigger’s blade slicing through the soil, cleanly dissecting everything in its path. The sides of the hole were sheer, almost polished smooth. When the others bowed their heads in prayer, Emma kept her eyes level with Caleb’s. His jaw hung loose and tiny, thread veins snaked around his nostrils like flames. He held her stare, his lips quivering nervously, his words ready to spring like arrows from a bow. He shifted his weight, muttering something only his neighbors could hear. Emma watched shocked ripples move through the sea of heads. Someone put a hand to Caleb’s arm, but he only grunted defiantly as he hobbled over to stand next to Emma.

  “Emma, have you seen Lucy?” he said, his voice quaking. “I’ve been looking for her everywhere. She runs off sometimes.”

  Emma put a hand on his arm to steady him. This was unexpected. She looked across the gravestones, seeing if she could pick out Lucy’s, but a tree stood in the way. Her secret was safe.

  “We can look for her together if you like,” she said.

  Caleb scanned the crowd. “Why are we here? Who died this time?”

  “My father,” said Emma.

  “Oh, I’m very sorry to hear that,” he said, drawing out his words. “Philip Long was a good man.”

  “Yes, he was,” said Emma. She took the handkerchief he offered and dabbed the tears from her eyes. “I’m going to miss him.”

  23

  Macy answered her mother’s phone call as she drove toward the Walleye Junction municipal cemetery. Gina was sitting in the passenger seat nursing what she’d referred to as a Ryan-sized hangover. She wore a pair of sunglasses that covered half her face.

  “Calm down, Mom,” said Macy, switching to speakerphone. “I can’t understand a word you’re saying.”

  “Someone tried to snatch Luke from the day-care center at the gym,” said Ellen.

  The right front tire hit the curb, and Macy almost lost control of the car. Next to her, Gina shook herself awake.

  “Is Luke okay?” asked Macy.

  “He’s absolutely fine. It’s the adults who are upset. The manager called the police. I told them to speak to your old colleague Brad Newman. He’s on his way.”

  Macy pulled over at the next turnout and climbed into the passenger seat while Gina went around. Seconds later Gina was at the wheel, and they were heading toward Route 93 with the sirens wailing.

  “Mom,” said Macy. “We’re on our way back to Helena now. I know you’re upset, but you need to tell me exactly what happened.”

  “Just a sec. Luke wants to say hello.”

  “Mommy?”
>
  Macy started crying. Gina grabbed hold of her hand and squeezed it hard.

  “Hi, baby,” Macy said, steadying her voice. “Are you having a good time with Granny?”

  “I made a drawing. It’s for you.”

  “I bet it’s beautiful.”

  “A puppy. I drew one.”

  “You drew a puppy for me?”

  “Yes.”

  “I will be home soon,” said Macy. “Will you show it to me when I get there?”

  “I love you, Mommy.”

  “I love you too.”

  Macy was left listening to silence.

  “Mom?” she said.

  “I’m here,” said Ellen. “The police are pulling up outside now.”

  “I’ll want to speak to them. What do you know so far?”

  “A young woman came into the gym claiming to be you and said she’d come to pick up Luke from the day-care center. The woman at the desk became suspicious when she failed to produce any identification.”

  “What did she look like?”

  “Eighteen to twenty years old, blond, white, and very thin. She was wearing a hooded sweatshirt and jeans.”

  Macy’s mind went into overdrive. “It could have been Nicole Davidson.”

  “Shouldn’t she be in Chicago?”

  “They’ll have security cameras at the club,” said Macy. “Tell them to look at the feed. They should be able to send me the link.”

  “Did she say anything in her last letter about coming back to Montana?”

  “I have no idea. I haven’t read it yet.”

  Macy searched the side pocket of her bag for the letter. She ripped the envelope open and scanned the text.

  “Macy, are you still there,” asked Ellen. “Brad’s here now. He wants to speak to you.”

  Macy’s heart sank. It was all there in black and white. Nicole wanted to come live with them in Helena. She was miserable in Chicago and wanted to be with her little brother.

  A man’s voice came over the speakerphone.

  “Macy? It’s Brad Newman. I understand you’re up in the Flathead Valley. How you holding up?”

  “I’ve been better. You need to look at the video footage for confirmation, but I’m pretty sure we’re looking for Nicole Davidson.”

  “Ray’s daughter?”