Walleye Junction Page 2

  “Thank you again for looking after Luke,” said Macy. “I couldn’t do this without you.”

  “It’s wonderful for all of us. I love that you and Luke are here with me.”

  Macy ruffled Luke’s hair as she handed him an apple she’d cut up into wedges. He was generally quiet but took a great deal of satisfaction in repeating any interesting words he heard, the more inappropriate the better. Macy still forgot and cursed sometimes. It was hard not to laugh when he mimicked her, but Ellen had put her straight on that one right away.

  Don’t you dare encourage him, she warned. There’s nothing cute about a child saying fuck.

  Macy had loved how formal it sounded when her mother said it. You’re right. It’s much cuter when you drop the f bomb.

  Ellen picked up a photo of Ron Forester’s living room and held it up to the light.

  “This house is beautifully furnished,” said Ellen.

  “It should be. It belongs to a rather well-off accountant.”

  “Accountants do seem to have all the money.” Ellen waved a hand over the rest of the images on the kitchen table. “Where was he during all this?”

  “He’s serving time for aggravated sexual assault.”

  “Charming.”

  “I’m interviewing him tomorrow.”

  Ellen raised an eyebrow. “Where’s he being held?”

  Macy pulled out a bowl and cracked her first egg. She would not meet her mother’s eyes.

  “Montana State Prison, Deer Lodge.”

  “Ray Davidson is also being held there.”

  “I’m aware of that.”

  “Have you spoken to him recently?”

  “Not since he agreed to plead guilty on all counts.” Macy switched on the hob and placed the frying pan on the burner. “I wanted to thank him for not dragging all of us through the courts. Not that it matters much as everyone learned about our affair during the inquiry.”

  “It wasn’t an affair. It was a relationship. He was separated from his wife when you were seeing him.”

  “Not the second time around.”

  “Well, he lied to you and just about everyone else. Why didn’t you tell me you spoke to him?”

  “I knew you wouldn’t approve.”

  “He’s behind bars, but you’re not safe yet. I know you’re still not over him.”

  Macy kissed Luke on top of the head. “It’s difficult to move on when I’m constantly reminded.”

  “Stop torturing yourself. Luke may resemble Ray, but I really think he takes after your father. We’ll dig out the family photos so you can see for yourself.”

  “Mom, you may not understand this, but I really needed to tell Ray that he did the right thing.” She scooped some scrambled egg onto a plate and put it on the counter to cool. “What he did was awful, but he’s living a nightmare.… They’ll never let him out.”

  “Don’t you dare feel sorry for that man. He’s corrupt through and through. It’s his wife and children who you should feel sorry for.”

  “His wife has moved the family to Chicago. I hear she’s already engaged to a guy she dated when she was in high school.”

  “Can you blame her for wanting to move on as quickly as possible?”

  “No, not really.” Macy took the seat next to Luke and started clearing away the case files. “Sometimes I wish I had the option of leaving.”

  “Running away won’t help matters. It’s better to stay and work through this. I know it’s hard now, but if you continue to do your job well, people will soon forget.” Ellen paused. “Are you going to be seeing Aiden when you’re up in the Flathead Valley?”

  “That’s the idea. It’s been a while since we’ve had any time together so it will be nice.”

  “I told you to take things slow, but this is glacial.”

  Luke popped a piece of apple into Macy’s mouth and howled with laughter when she made a face.

  “After everything that’s happened I don’t know if it’s wise for me to date someone in law enforcement again.”

  “With the hours you work who else are you going to meet, let alone date?”

  “This is true.”

  Ellen smiled over her cup of coffee. “You could always try online dating. I hear there are sites that specialize in single women who are attracted to men in uniform. I’d say you qualify.”

  Macy laughed and it hurt.

  “I’m going to pretend I never heard you make that suggestion.” The doorbell rang. “That will be my ride.”

  * * *

  Gina Cunningham’s hairstyle was short, sharp, and spiked with a grid of golden highlights that reminded Macy of a leopard print. There was nothing subtle about her personality either. She was known for speaking her mind and for this reason Macy was thankful they’d always been on good terms. Gina had said nothing about Macy’s recent troubles with Ray Davidson. She’d instead asked after her son and expressed concern that Macy might be trying to get back to work too soon after her accident. As usual, Gina was direct.

  “I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but you look like shit, Greeley.”

  They arrived at the outskirts of Walleye Junction at around nine in the morning. The site of Macy’s accident had been cleared. If it wasn’t for a hastily erected roadside shrine, someone could pass by unaware of what happened four nights ago. Gina slowed the highway patrol car for a better look. Stray bits of broken glass sparkled on the asphalt. Skid marks twisted into a question mark. Cards fluttered every time a car passed by and flower bouquets, some still wrapped in plastic and others clearly made of plastic, sparkled in the midmorning light. Pools of melted candle wax dotted the pavement and an enterprising church had left a notice offering its free counseling services for mourners who were in need of spiritual guidance.

  Philip Long may have been a divisive figure in Walleye Junction, but he was also a popular one. It seemed his critics had considered him a worthy opponent. Macy had scrolled through the comments sections on various obituaries. One admirer wrote, Sometimes it takes an outsider to shine a light on our problems to which someone responded, Although I respected Philip I always wondered why he didn’t return to England if he was so opposed to how we do things over here.

  Seeing a break in the oncoming traffic, Gina crossed over the southbound lanes and pulled onto the hard shoulder. She opened the window and leaned out to get a better look at the messages of condolence left for Philip Long’s family.

  Macy gripped her hands together on her lap and focused on the middle distance. It was a clear spring day and everything was sharp and new. The cherry orchards were in blossom and verdant evergreen forests coated the surrounding foothills. Higher up, the mountain peaks of the Whitefish Range were covered in a crisp layer of white.

  Originally from Texas, Gina had never completely eradicated the twang from her voice.

  “There was a serial killer down in Texas who used to leave clues at his victim’s roadside shrines.”

  Gina tore open a bag of Doritos and Macy recoiled at the smell. She felt clammy and feverish. She touched her forehead. It was damp. She opened the passenger-side window and watched a helicopter fly back and forth over the cherry orchards on the far side of the highway. It hovered like a giant dragonfly. Gina put the bag of Doritos on the seat between them and told Macy to help herself.

  “Bet the water in the drainage ditch was fucking cold, but I guess jumping in was better than getting shot.” Gina glanced over at Macy. “You feeling okay?”

  “I need some fresh air.”

  Macy opened the door at the same time a logging truck passed by. It sounded its horn and Macy shrank back into the vehicle. Gina’s hand was on her shoulder.

  “You’re shaking.”

  Macy nodded. Gina was being kind and she wasn’t going to fault her for it.

  “Thank you,” Macy said. “I’m a little nervous about being back here, but I guess that’s to be expected.”

  Gina reached for the radio. “Nice to know you’re human after all.
You do what you have to do. I’ll call the folks in Walleye and let them know our ETA.”

  Macy walked a few paces north along the hard shoulder. The cold wind churned up by passing vehicles slapped at her hair. She pulled it back into a rough ponytail using a band wrapped around her wrist. To her right cars and trucks rumbled along Route 93. To her left dark water gurgled along the drainage ditch. She watched her reflection waver on the dark surface. Macy had looked up detailed maps of the area online. Another hundred yards beyond where she’d managed to escape the drainage ditch, a shunt directed the overflow toward the Flathead River. She knew damn well that she was lucky to be alive. She studied the spot in the center of the road where Philip Long had died. Solving the case would never be enough. She had a feeling his final moments were going to haunt her dreams forever.

  Philip Long’s roadside shrine had been erected at the base of the exit sign for Edgewood Road. Squatting down low, Macy poked a ballpoint pen among the flowers, pushing them to the side so she could see the cards. People had left children’s drawings, sympathy cards, and little notes. On several, the ink ran down paper so damp it was turning back to pulp.

  Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

  You will be missed.

  Godspeed.

  Macy stood up tall and stretched her shoulder. The ibuprofen had already worn off. She needed to take some more but would wait until she’d had something more substantial to eat.

  Gina passed a bag of caramels out the open window. “Do yourself a favor and have a few of these. You look like you’re about to pass out.”

  The candy wrapper crackled in Macy’s fingers. “This case you were talking about in Texas. When was this?”

  “Been years … maybe in the seventies. It turned out he was a trucker who was preying on hitchhikers. He’d leave their bodies roadside.”

  “Not likely he’s our guy then.”

  “Nah, he fried.”

  The helicopter buzzed nearby. It was just a few yards above the cherry orchard across the highway. Macy turned and watched.

  “What the hell is that guy doing?” Macy asked.

  “When it rains they use choppers to fan dry the cherry blossoms.”

  “I did not know that.” Macy handed the bag of caramels to Gina and checked her phone. Aiden Marsh was calling. She signaled to Gina that she’d be a few seconds and walked to the front of the vehicle.

  “Hey, Aiden,” said Macy. “Nice to hear your voice.”

  “Detective Greeley, I was relieved to hear you’re on the mend.”

  “Oh, I guess you’re calling me in a professional capacity.”

  “Unfortunately, that is the case,” said Aiden. “We’ve found two bodies at a business park midway between Walleye Junction and Wilmington Creek. It looks like they’ve overdosed.”

  “Interesting, but why are you calling me?”

  “Initially I thought this was routine, but there’s a dark blue van with Idaho plates parked nearby. It matches the one from the surveillance video at the gas station where Philip Long was abducted.”

  “Did you run the plates?”

  “It’s stolen. The ME took fingerprints and we got a match with what was found at the house where Long was kept. It looks like we’ve found your kidnappers.”

  “Have you identified them?”

  “Carla and Lloyd Spencer, both lifelong residents of Walleye Junction. They’re both addicts. They may have been after cash to buy more drugs.”

  “There are easier ways to get cash than kidnapping. Can you send me the address?”

  “Will do. Where are you now?”

  “Standing next to the drainage ditch.”

  Aiden broke character. “Are you okay?”

  “Barely.”

  “Hang in there.”

  Macy climbed onto the passenger seat and told Gina to head north toward Wilmington Creek.

  “Chief Marsh, I appreciate the heads-up,” Macy said. “We’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

  Gina pulled out onto Route 93. “Who was that?”

  Macy hesitated. She and Aiden had been seeing each other for nearly a year. There was really no reason to be so secretive about their relationship, but she’d only told her closest friends and family and even then she’d been cautious in her remarks. There’d been so much upheaval in her life over the past year. There were times she couldn’t decide whether she actually liked Aiden or was just using him as a crutch to get through it all.

  Macy dug her hand into the bag of caramels.

  “Aidan Marsh,” she said, popping one into her mouth. “Wilmington Creek Chief of Police. They found two bodies. Looks like an overdose. Prints match our kidnappers.”

  Gina’s voice went flat. “Job done then.”

  “You sound disappointed.”

  “My mother-in-law moved in yesterday to look after the kids while I’m away. Would have been nice to make it worth her trouble and mine. I packed for a week.”

  “Sounds like you were betting against me solving this.”

  “Nah, just needed a break. Trying to work and find time for the house, my husband, and the kids is exhausting.”

  * * *

  Fields of dark, tilled earth surrounded the small business park. A woman who ran a bakery out of one of the units had spotted the couple lying side by side in the long grass near where she usually parked her car. It didn’t occur to her that they might be dead until sounding the horn failed to wake them. She’d been so upset she’d stayed in the car until the police arrived.

  Gina parked outside the temporary perimeter the forensic team had set up and offered Macy another caramel before cutting the engine.

  “Sweetheart,” said Gina. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

  Macy kept her eyes on Aiden Marsh. Though she’d never admit it, her mother was right. There was something about a man in uniform and as usual Aiden’s was nicely pressed. He was deep in conversation with the head of the forensics team, Ryan Marshall, but he waved to them as they drove up. Ryan was shrouded in white-hooded coveralls replete with gloves, booties, and dark sunglasses. Most of the time, it was impossible to tell what he really looked like. Macy had taken to pretending that she didn’t recognize him when she saw him in civilian clothes. He’d taken to telling Macy to piss off, one of many phrases he’d picked up at an international forensics conference where he’d discovered that his British counterparts liked drinking even more than he did.

  When she’d joined the force, Macy had been told Gina could be prickly. Over the years she’d noticed more and more that it was only the men who said this. Macy gave Gina a slight smile and reached for the door handle.

  “Thanks for asking, Gina, but I’m good. Let’s go do this.”

  Outside, the cloying smell of sugar drifting from the bakery’s ovens hung heavy in the air. As far as Macy could tell there was no smell coming off the bodies. Carla and Lloyd Spencer had not been dead long. They were almost invisible in the tall grass. All that could be seen clearly were their shoes—one pair of sneakers and one pair of cowboy boots. About thirty feet away a couple of women wearing aprons stood in front of the bakery’s delivery bay smoking cigarettes.

  Macy started with introductions, making a point of shaking both Ryan and Aidan’s hands.

  Ryan cracked a smile. “What’s with the formalities? We haven’t shook hands in ten years.”

  “Maybe I want the pleasure of getting to know you all over again.”

  Macy pulled on booties and gloves and went over to have a closer look at Carla and Lloyd Spencer. The husband and wife both wore jeans and hooded sweatshirts. Their clothing wasn’t threadbare, but it was well worn. It was also dry. They’d not died in the rain that had fallen during the night. Carla Spencer was an attractive woman, but the same didn’t hold true for her husband. Lloyd looked a little worse for wear. Deep lines traced the contours of his face and his teeth and his hands were stained sepia from tobacco.

  “So what do you think, Ryan?”

  “I think
we found your kidnappers so we can all go home.”

  “What killed them?”

  “Probably heroin, but they may have been cooking prescription drugs and injecting them. The toxicology screen will tell us what we need to know. The male was a heavy user. Lots of needle marks.”

  “And the female?”

  “Nothing I can see aside from the puncture wound that killed her. She appears to be in much better health.”

  Aiden cleared his throat. “Macy, I ran a check. Carla has been in a rehab program for a couple months and Lloyd is on a waiting list.” He turned to Ryan. “Any estimate on time of death?”

  Macy spoke first. “If the bodies haven’t been dumped here I’d say between six and seven this morning.”

  Ryan nodded in agreement. “Nice work, Greeley. I suppose you’ll be wanting my job next.”

  Macy was tempted to look smug for Ryan’s benefit but kept a straight face.

  “Their clothing is dry,” Macy said. “It stopped raining at around six and the bakery manager arrived at seven. Was anyone else here yet?”

  “Nope,” said Aiden. “She was the first to arrive. She noticed the van and then the bodies.”

  “Do Carla and Lloyd Spencer have family in Walleye?”

  “Chief of Police Lou Turner is arriving any minute. He should know.”

  “I’m going to have a chat with the manager of the bakery,” said Gina. “See if I can find out anything else.”

  Aiden pointed out the woman in the apron wearing a baseball cap. “She’s pretty shaken up. Go easy on her.”

  Ryan yawned deeply. “See if you can get me some doughnuts and a cup of coffee. I could just about murder for a plain-glazed.” He started walking away. “I’m going to arrange transport for the bodies. I’ll make sure there’s a rush put on the toxicology screen.”

  Macy turned her attention to Carla and Lloyd Spencer again. They were lying with their arms by their sides, palms up. Since it was probably drugs that killed them it was difficult to believe they’d have the wherewithal to die in such similar poses. She squatted down low. There were no apparent signs of struggle. With a gloved hand she lifted Lloyd’s cowboy boot. There was gravel imbedded in the back of the heel. The same was not true of Carla’s trainers. Macy pivoted and looked at the van. It was about ten yards away.