Burnt River

by Karin Salvalaggio

  Macy glanced at her notes. “They’re seasonal firefighters. Childs has been doing it for years, but Peter only signed on with the state this summer. Childs was working out at Waldo Canyon the afternoon Lindsay disappeared.”

  “That could be a coincidence.”

  “I did a couple summers on fire crews. It would have been difficult for him to slip off unnoticed.”

  “We’ll talk to everyone on his team. What do they do the rest of the year?”

  “During the ski season, Nick Childs works down at Big Sky as a lift operator, and Peter Lane is an English teacher at Bozeman High School.”

  “Have you interviewed Lane yet?”

  “I’m just about to. I’ll let you know what I find out.”

  * * *

  Peter Lane stood up and wiped his hands on his shorts as Macy entered the interview room. He was only thirty-one, but already going bald. His fingers were wrapped in blister tape.

  “Mr. Lane, my name is Detective Macy Greeley.”

  He gave her a firm handshake. “Pleased to meet you.”

  Macy clicked on the voice recorder. “I assure you that this is just a formality. Mr. Lane, could you please state your full name and date of birth.”

  He had a slight stammer. “Am I under … arrest?”

  “Mr. Lane, I understand you’ve waived your right to a lawyer? Have you changed your mind?”

  “Isn’t this about the body we found?”

  “It’s on my list of things to discuss, but before we can continue I really need you to state your name and date of birth.”

  Peter leaned over the recorder and spoke slowly. “Peter Lane, born third of June, 1983.”

  Macy smiled. “That wasn’t so difficult, was it?”

  “No, ma’am. The woman we found. This is just about her?”

  Macy placed a file on the table and took out her notebook. “We believe she died as a direct result of a fire.” She took a photo of Lindsay Moore out of the file and slid it across the table. “Out of curiosity, what kind of car do you drive, Mr. Lane?”

  Peter Lane stared at the picture. Lindsay wore her full dress uniform and looked directly into the camera. “I have a Volvo station wagon,” he said before glancing at Macy. “Who’s this?”

  “You’ve never seen her before?”

  He shook his head.

  “Take your time. I want you to be sure.”

  “I’m sure. Who is she?”

  “She’s the woman who died in the Waldo Canyon fire.”

  His voice went up an octave. “She was a police officer?”

  Macy tapped the photo with her index finger. “Lindsay Moore was a special investigator working for the state.”

  “I had nothing to do with this.”

  “You just found her?”

  “It was actually Nick who found her, not me.”

  “Why does the report say otherwise?”

  “He’s got an ex-wife who wants money from him. He was worried his name would end up in the papers.”

  Macy glanced down at her notes.

  “Did you know your friend Nick has been wanted for questioning in relation to a recent murder?”

  Peter Lane gave her a blank stare.

  Macy settled back in her chair. “A few days ago John Dalton was shot in the alley outside The Whitefish. I believe you’re familiar with the establishment. You used to frequent it with Nick Childs.”

  “Yes, but—”

  “And you were both barred from the premises when a woman who worked there made a complaint against you.”

  “That had nothing to do with me.”

  “I’m sensing a theme here, Mr. Lane. You seem to be a lot of places you shouldn’t be with Nick Childs, and every time something happens it has nothing to do with you. Are you aware that your friend is in police custody in Kalispell?”

  Peter Lane shook his head. A rash was spreading upward from the collar of his shirt. Wine-colored blotches blended with the stubble of his beard. He rubbed his face.

  “Mr. Childs took off before we had a chance to call you both in for questioning.”

  “Nick told me he was leaving for a few days, but he didn’t say why.”

  “It certainly makes him look guilty of something. I just need to figure out what.”

  Peter started picking at the blister tape on his hands.

  “Mr. Lane, I’d like to know what made Lana Clark so uncomfortable that she complained to her manager after you two visited her bar. Could you help me with that?”

  “I suppose so.”

  “Would it encourage you to be more cooperative if you knew that Nick Childs has served time for multiple offenses which include aggravated sexual assault and armed robbery?”

  “I didn’t know.”

  “You’re a high school teacher and a father of two young children. He’s not someone you want to be associated with.”

  His voice rose again. “He kept hinting that he knew Lana from somewhere. She humored him the first few times we came in, but she lost her temper when Nick said she’d never had a problem with getting paid for her services before, so what was the big deal now. I wanted to intervene, but we got kicked out before I had a chance. I gave the place a wide berth after that. I can’t speak for Nick.”

  “Did Nick give you any reason to believe he was telling the truth about Lana’s past? Did he mention a specific name or location?”

  “The night we got kicked out he asked her if Charlie knew how she really paid her way through school.”

  “Charlie?”

  He shrugged. “He never explained.”

  “Was he angry about being barred from The Whitefish?”

  “Quite the opposite. I was under the impression he thought it was funny.”

  “Mr. Lane, you seem like a nice man. Given his actions, I’m surprised you remained friends with him.”

  “Nick really took me under his wing. I’d never been on a fire crew and didn’t have a clue what I was doing. I was grateful, but the way he acted that night did put me on edge. I’ve been trying to distance myself.”

  Macy picked up Lindsay’s photo and slid it back in the file. “Mr. Lane, I really appreciate your cooperating with us today. I may have a few more questions for you so I’d like you to sit tight. Is that okay?”

  “Yes, I suppose so. I’m not heading home until tomorrow.”

  “Can I get you a sandwich or something?”

  “Thank you. Anything would be great. I’m not fussy.”

  Macy shut the door and put in a call to Aiden.

  “Lana lied to us. Nick Childs knew her from when she lived in Georgia. The night he got kicked out of The Whitefish, he mentioned Charlie Lott by name.”

  “Do you suppose what he was saying about her being a prostitute was true too?”

  “We need to speak to Lana again.”

  “Any chance Nick Childs is our murderer?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “We’ve been searching the campsite, but nothing has come up. No one noticed that he went missing the afternoon Lindsay disappeared.”

  “Okay, keep me posted. I’m going to see if Ray has arrived.”

  * * *

  Macy found Ray sitting in Aiden’s office with his feet propped up on the desk, reading the local paper. She stood watching him for a few seconds before stepping into the room and closing the door.

  “Have you been waiting long?”

  “Not long at all. I flew in. Given that I only got back to Helena at four in the morning, it seemed the most sensible mode of transport.”

  “That must make a nice change from driving.”

  “They told me you were interviewing a potential witness.” He brushed a piece of lint from his pant leg. “I figured I’d wait in here.”

  As she made her way toward her desk he caught her by the wrist and tried to kiss her.

  She twisted free. “Ray, you know better.”

  He laughed. “Sometimes you’re such a—”

  “Don’t even
think about finishing that sentence.” She sat down and turned on her laptop. In the time she’d been out of the office she’d received 126 emails, and not one of them was from the medical examiner. “Please tell me you managed to get the medical examiner’s report and something on ballistics.”

  He tapped a file on the desk. “I’ve got it with me.”

  “And?”

  “And I think we should wait for Chief Marsh.”

  “He’s out searching a suspect’s campsite. He won’t be back for hours.”

  “I just got off the phone. He’s on his way.”

  Macy handed Ray the composite sketch of Nick Childs. “I’ve been interviewing Peter Lane. Apparently, Nick Childs knew Lana Clark and her boyfriend Charlie Lott back in Georgia. We have yet to establish whether he was involved with John Dalton’s murder.”

  “He wasn’t.”

  Macy folded her hands in her lap. “You’re going to make me wait?”

  “I am.”

  “Are you doing this because I didn’t kiss you?”

  “I am.”

  She pointed at his shoes. “If you don’t want to come off as a total asshole you may want to take your feet off Aiden’s desk.”

  “Touchy.”

  “Apparently not as touchy as you’d like me to be.”

  “Are we going to spend the entire afternoon scoring points off each other?”

  “It wouldn’t be ideal.”

  “It’s been a long twenty-four hours. I need you to be nice to me.”

  She glanced at her computer screen. “I remember you telling me that you knew Lindsay’s father?”

  “Her father and I were very close. He really looked after me when I joined the force. Since he died, Lindsay’s pretty much been on her own. She’s like family.”

  “No mother?”

  “They don’t speak. It was an ugly divorce and Lindsay took her father’s side.” Ray dropped his feet to the floor and swiveled his chair so he was facing Macy, their knees almost touching. “Her sister sided with their mother when the family broke up. I’m not sure where she is now. I just got off the phone with her mother. For all it’s worth, she knows her daughter is dead.”

  Macy lowered her voice. “Do you have to fly back tonight?”

  “The plane takes off in an hour.”

  “You can make some excuse.”

  “Sorry, but I can’t.”

  Macy went back to reading her e-mails.

  “Macy, don’t be upset.”

  She shook her head. “I’m not upset, Ray. I’m ambivalent.”

  “That sounds worse.”

  “That’s because it is.”

  “Don’t do this. I was here last night. I only slept a few hours.”

  “Well, good for you. I didn’t sleep at all.”

  There was a light knock and Ray stood as the door swung open. Aiden placed his backpack on the floor before reaching out to shake Ray’s hand. He didn’t smile.

  “It’s been a while.”

  “Yes, it has. Detective Greeley has been filling me in.”

  “I’m sorry we didn’t have better news.”

  “It’s a tragic loss. Lindsay was a fine police officer.”

  Aiden glanced over at Macy but she didn’t look up from her laptop. “Macy said you had some information on the Dalton case.”

  “There was a ballistics match with the gun used to kill highway patrol officer Timothy Wallace last summer. Ethan Green was never convicted of that murder, but, as you now know, he’s been identified as the shooter by a reliable informant.”

  Aiden sat down behind his desk. “And here I was hoping Green was rotting in a shallow grave.”

  “There’s more. I got a rush on that 9mm slug the ME found in Lindsay’s left shoulder. The techs compared it with what we have in the Dalton case. It was also from the same gun.” Ray handed Macy and Aiden copies of the ballistics report. “Ethan Green has been very busy.”

  Macy raised an eyebrow. “I’ve been making some calls. I’m not so sure about your informant. I think it’s premature to hang all this on Ethan Green.”

  “Macy, our informant has been working with us for a long time. He’s also a source for the FBI. The word is Ethan’s re-forming his militia, and he’s got something big planned. That’s why I sent Lindsay up here in the first place.”

  Aiden flipped through the report. “Do you think John Dalton’s murder was some kind of political statement?”

  “Could be.”

  Macy frowned. “Given the text message that was sent to Annie, I still say this is personal. Did anything come up in the DNA analysis? There was a rumor going around that Annie and Ethan had an affair. She convinced John that Jeremy wasn’t his real father. Maybe it was Green.”

  “The results from the DNA analysis aren’t in yet, but they promised to have something to us by tomorrow at the latest.”

  Macy clicked on a new e-mail from the medical examiner and opened the attached file containing the autopsy results on Lindsay Moore. She had injuries consistent with a fall. Her spine was severed and plant fibers were embedded in the cuts on her hands. The toxicology report came back clean. There was no evidence of sexual assault. She’d died of smoke inhalation.

  Ray rubbed his eyes and yawned. “John may not be the only person Annie Dalton’s been talking to.” He glanced at Aiden. “What about the sister?”

  “As far as we know, she hasn’t been told anything.”

  Macy scrolled through the report on the screen in front of her. “She may be busy connecting the dots on her own.”

  Ray stood up and began pacing what little space there was. “You know, even if the rumors are incorrect, it still makes sense when you think about it. Green didn’t have to know why John was snooping around and asking questions about him. He just knew that Lindsay Moore was doing the same thing. He may have gotten paranoid and decided to take them both out.”

  “So, Ray, where do we go from here?”

  “Macy talks to the press this afternoon. We need to get the word out that we’re looking for Ethan Green, put an APB out on his vehicle.”

  “There’s been an APB out on his vehicle for more than a year. Not one sighting.”

  “We’ll also have to search his property.”

  “It’s over a hundred acres. We’ll need more resources.”

  Ray picked up his phone. “That won’t be a problem.”

  Macy turned her chair to face them. “Ray, when were you going to tell us that Lindsay was three to four months pregnant?”

  He sighed. “I was just about to get to that.”

  “Was there a boyfriend?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  “Conception took place after she moved here. We could be looking for someone local. How do we know this doesn’t have anything to do with her death? Murder is usually personal.”

  “Her phone records didn’t show any unusual activity.”

  “That’s inconclusive. There are many ways to communicate that are difficult to trace. They could have used the Internet.”

  “You seem to forget that we have a ballistics match with the gun used by Ethan Green to kill a highway patrol officer.”

  “And you seem to forget that Ethan Green was never convicted of that crime. Your informant has been offered a plea bargain in return for giving evidence. You and I both know that’s not good enough. We’ll need a lot more before we can pin all this on Ethan Green.” Macy snapped her laptop shut and headed for the door. “I’m going to work on a press statement. I’ll be in the interview room if you need me.”

  * * *

  Macy had just printed out the first draft of her statement when Ray walked into the room and quietly shut the door behind him. Macy didn’t look up from her laptop. She was speed-reading through Lindsay Moore’s case notes.

  “What’s on your mind, Ray?”

  “What’s with your attitude? I thought we were on the same side.”

  Macy stared at him for a long moment before speaking. “E
xcuse me?”

  He lowered his voice. “Regardless of what’s going on between us, I am your commanding officer. I expect your support. How you behaved back there was unprofessional.”

  “I’m the lead detective on this case. Whether you agree with it or not, my opinion is valid. You can’t just come up here, dump all this on me, and expect me to fall into line.”

  “I’m not dumping anything on you.”

  “Ray, I was on the special task force put together to investigate that state trooper’s murder. I’ve not only read the report, I helped write it. I have good reason to doubt the veracity of your informant’s testimony. He’s up for murder one, and in exchange for information on militia groups he names Ethan Green as the shooter. It happened in the middle of the night out on Route 93 south of Missoula. How could there be any witnesses?”

  “It’s not just me who thinks this guy’s statement is sound. The FBI is on board as well. Our guy was active in the area at the time. His cell phone can be triangulated to within twenty miles of the incident.”

  “That’s hardly surprising, since your informant lives in Missoula. I’m not saying that Ethan Green didn’t do it, I’m just doubting that you actually have a witness.”

  “What’s the difference, if we get the right guy in the end?”

  “I want to talk to the informant before we go forward with the press conference. I also want the ballistics analysis done again. There’s too much riding on this. If we get it wrong, we lose valuable time.”

  “We’re not getting it wrong. I was there when they did the ballistics tests. I personally delivered the slug the ME found in Lindsay’s shoulder. You’re going to have to trust me on this, Macy. Ethan Green is our man.”

  “You give me until tomorrow afternoon to do what I need to do, and I’ll be much happier making a statement to the press.”

  Ray placed his hand on the table. “Lindsay was on to something. She called me just last week.”

  “I’ve been going through her files, Ray.” She turned her laptop around. “It’s all there on the mainframe. I was issued the access codes this morning. I’ve read through everything she’s logged over the past few weeks. There’s nothing. The day before she died she wrote that she was becoming more convinced that Ethan Green is either dead or has left town.”

  “So why did she call me and tell me something completely different?”