Walleye Junction (19 page)

Bob spent a few seconds thinking things over before he answered.

“Take your time,” said Macy. “It's important that you get this right.”

“Yes, I brought Carla up there. I fail to see why this is relevant.”

“Did you tell her the alarm code?”

“I might have.”

“Answer the question.”

“Yes,” said Bob. “I told Carla Spencer the alarm code.”

“Mr. Crawley. You are aware that we are investigating a very serious crime. A man was kidnapped and held at the Forester house before he was murdered. You have withheld valuable information that would have aided our investigation.”

“Don't be so dramatic. Carla delivered pizzas. What on earth does she have to do with any of this?”

“Can you account for your whereabouts the night Philip Long was murdered?”

“I was with my wife.”

“I'll need to have her confirm that.”

“There's no need to bother her with this,” said Bob. “You can check with my staff.”

“I'm not in the mood to be accommodating. You've wasted police time and may have contributed to the death of three individuals.”

“You've got to be kidding me.”

“Carla used the alarm code you gave her to access Ron Forester's property,” said Macy.

“She was involved in the kidnapping?”

“She was aided by her husband and an unknown accomplice.”

“If she's saying I was involved, she's lying. I barely knew the woman.”

“She's not saying anything at the moment. Both Carla and her husband are dead, which leaves you, Mr. Crawley.”

“I was with my wife,” he insisted.

“That doesn't mean you weren't involved.”

“I didn't even know Philip Long. Why on earth would I do such a thing?”

“That's what I have to figure out,” said Macy. “You lied to us about your relationship with Carla so now we have to figure out if there is anything else you're lying about.”

“I only lied because I didn't want anyone to know I was sleeping with her.”

“Do you ride a dirt bike, Mr. Crawley?”

“On occasion. I have a few up at the house. You're welcome to have a look.”

“We don't need your permission. We have a warrant.” Macy checked the time. “They should be serving it right about now.”

“You can't be serious.”

Macy stared at him. Her smile was long gone. “It is up to the DA to decide whether you're charged with obstruction. Going forward I advise you to be very cooperative. I also recommend that both you and your wife are tested. Carla was a drug addict who's probably been sharing needles for years.” Macy called the attending uniformed officer back into the room and ended the interview. “Please escort Mr. Crawley to his home. We may need him to answer further questions while we're searching the property.”

*   *   *

Gina handed Macy a printout of an e-mail as they walked down a hallway that ran the length of the police station.

“This may be nothing,” said Gina. “But I thought you should see it.”

Macy noticed the date. It had been sent to Lou Turner two days earlier.

“How come we're just seeing this now?” asked Macy.

“Manpower. There are only so many tips we can follow up in a day, so we have to prioritize.”

The e-mail opened with a question.
What really killed Philip Long?

“Do we have any idea who sent this?”

“The tech guys are trying to establish its origin, but the e-mail account was shut down right after it was sent. It looks like it bounced around a few servers before landing in Lou Turner's in-box.”

The Word document that was attached to the e-mail consisted of a list of eighty-two names. Accompanying the names were a few sentences, which described the circumstances of their deaths and listed the dates they died and their birthdates. Macy flipped through the pages. Some of the deaths dated as far back as five years. The only indication of the e-mail's source was a roughly drawn image. Three slashed lines formed a capital letter
A
that was enclosed by a circle. There was no further explanation.

Macy frowned. “The Circle-A is a symbol used by anarchists.”

“I didn't know Montana had anarchists.”

Macy checked over the list of names again. “It looks like everyone on this list died from accidentally overdosing on prescription painkillers. Are they local to the Flathead Valley?”

“No, nine lived in Idaho, five were from North Dakota, and at least ten were residents of Wyoming.”

“This isn't a problem that's unique to this area. Last I heard more people die from prescription drug overdoses than traffic accidents.” Macy handed the printout back to Gina. “Carla and Lloyd overdosed on heroin. I'm not seeing a connection.”

“Carla Spencer was forced to administer a lethal dose to herself and her husband. It wasn't accidental. It was murder.” Gina pointed to the list of names. “Maybe this is more of the same.”

“Eighty-two murders? Not sure I have the stamina for that sort of investigation.”

“What should we do with this e-mail?” asked Gina. “We don't have the resources to follow every lead.”

“Get someone to cross-reference these names with doctors, clinics, and hospitals. The state coroner should have data from all the counties. Pick a few at random and see whether there was any suspicion surrounding their deaths.”

“I'll talk to Lou about getting someone on it. If not, I'll do it myself. How did the Crawley interview go?”

Macy's mood darkened. “He admitted to meeting Carla at Ron Forester's house but denies any connection to the kidnapping and murder. He says he was with his wife the night Philip died.”

“He sounds like a total prick.”

“He's a charming prick. Despite everything, it's hard not to like him.”

“Your buddy Aiden Marsh has a team searching Crawley's residence now. I hear it's a nice place,” said Gina.

“I had the pleasure of visiting last summer … same story, different woman.”

“You have to wonder why his wife puts up with it.”

“There's no way of knowing what goes on in their marriage,” said Macy. “I'm sure it's complicated. I'll interview her this afternoon, but I doubt she'll give me any insight. Meanwhile, we've got to find Sean Spencer. Any news?”

“Nothing. It's like he's gone underground. His girlfriend is another story. Some buzz has been building online. There are rumors going around that she's planning one of her raves here in the Flathead Valley sometime during the next week. From everything I'm hearing from Sean's friends, he and Kristina are practically inseparable. If we find her, we should find him.”

“A rave would make a nice change. I'm in the mood for a little fun.”

“Speaking of fun,” said Gina. “How were your ten hours in Helena?”

“Too brief. I had breakfast with my son, but he wasn't at his best. My mother thinks he might be coming down with something. Did you manage to escape your mother-in-law undetected?”

“She caught me just as I was sneaking out the door this morning. She thinks it's my fault that my husband is getting fat.”

“You need to remind her what year it is.”

“I did. I just wasn't as gentle as I should have been. I'm afraid it was handbags at dawn.”

“What did your husband have to say about it?”

“Nothing. He hadn't returned from pulling a nightshift. I spoke to him though. He's not feeling well either. Maybe the flu is going around.”

“I hope not. My mother has her hands full looking after Luke as it is. Have you spoken to Lou today? Do you know if he managed to track down Sean Spencer's real father?”

“I did. Scott Walker has been laid up with a broken leg for the past few weeks. He's not our guy.”

“Has Sean been in touch with him?”

“Walker says he hasn't, but Lou isn't convinced he's telling us the truth. There's still nothing concrete on Joel Edwards's whereabouts either, but we did find out that he used to be a member of a militia group.”

Macy gave Gina a blank look. “Sorry, remind me who Joel Edwards is. I'm a little slow today.”

“He's the loser Carla met in rehab.”

“Right. No address for him?”

“He lived out of his car.”

“Okay, chase the militia lead and see if he has any affiliation with Carla and Lloyd Spencer's group.”

Macy checked her phone. There was a missed call from Aiden.

“It's Aiden Marsh,” said Macy. “I'd better call him back. There may be news from the search up at the Crawley residence.”

“I'll be at my desk if you need me.”

Macy went outside and sat at a picnic table situated on a patch of lawn near the station's back door. She closed her eyes and tilted her face to the sky.

Aiden sounded like he'd been running. “Macy, I think you should get up here.”

“Have you found something?”

“Maybe. It looks like someone tried to destroy some evidence.”

“The bike gear.”

“Yep. It's mostly ashes, but the Alliance logo is visible.”

“Was it in the house?” asked Macy.

“No, there's an outdoor fire pit near the river. It's only a ten minute walk away from the house.”

Macy hurried back inside the police station. “Is it on the Crawley property?”

“Yes, but anyone with a boat could access that section of river.”

“Do they know when that fire pit was last used?” she asked Aiden.

“According to the ranch foreman it would have been sometime last fall.”

“Has Crawley been seen down there?”

“There's a lot of staff that work in the house and on the grounds. We've not had time to interview all the potential witnesses.”

“What about the wife? Crawley says he was with her the night Philip Long died.”

Aiden's voice sounded strained. “Bob lied. Charlotte says he was out.”

“Why would Bob Crawley be involved in something like this? He's got plenty of money.”

“Maybe the story Long was researching had something to do with Bob Crawley's software company.”

“We really need to find Long's computer.”

“You coming up this way?”

Macy checked the time. “I'll get there as soon as I can. Give me a shout if you find anything else.”

*   *   *

There were several patrol cars parked along the Crawley's poplar-lined driveway and one forensic team van backed up next to the garages. The three-story windows on the east side of the house reflected the cloud-choked slopes of the Whitefish Range. A strong wind whipped Macy's hair into her face. There was shouting coming from inside the house. Charlotte Crawley was letting everyone know exactly how fed up she was with her husband's behavior.

“Robert, you're an idiot. That woman was a drug addict for fuck's sake. Your behavior has put the whole family at risk.”

Macy stepped inside at the same time Bob Crawley was being led away in handcuffs. He stopped walking as he came alongside Macy.

“I didn't do this,” he said.

“You come up with a solid alibi and I just might believe you.”

Charlotte Crawley was tall and had an athletic build. Her auburn hair was loose and she was dressed casually in jeans, a T-shirt, and flip-flops. Her dark eyes fell on Macy and stayed there.

Macy had the distinct impression that she was being carefully assessed as she moved through the house. There were a few crime scene techs working in Bob Crawley's office. She took a quick peek inside.

“Anything of interest?”

“We're checking his computer now.”

“Let me know if you find anything.”

Macy glanced over her shoulder. Charlotte Crawley was still watching her. The crime scene tech noticed.

“I don't think she likes you.”

“Does she like anyone?” asked Macy.

A shrug. “She seemed to be pretty chummy with Aiden Marsh.”

Macy fought the urge to throw daggers right back at Charlotte. Aiden was friends with the family. There was no reason to suspect anything, but that didn't stop her mind from going into overdrive. You'd have to be blind not to notice that Charlotte Crawley was an incredibly attractive woman.

“Where is Police Chief Marsh now?” asked Macy.

“Not sure. Last I heard he was heading outside to the garage to talk to Ryan about the off-road bikes that are stored there.”

*   *   *

Macy found Charlotte staring into an open refrigerator. Her expression hadn't softened.

“Charlotte Crawley?” said Macy.

Charlotte slammed the refrigerator shut.

“Can't you people just go already?”

“Your husband may have been involved in a serious crime. We're not going anywhere until we've searched the entire property.” Macy paused. “It could take a while due to the size.”

“The unexpected downside of having a large home.”

“I doubt it's ever listed as a potential problem in the property brochures.”

“Who are you anyway?” Charlotte asked. “I feel like I've already talked to pretty much everyone who works in law enforcement in this part of the state.”

Macy didn't bother trying to shake Charlotte's hand. She pulled out her badge and held it in the air between them. “My name is Detective Macy Greeley, and I've been sent here from Helena to lead the investigation into Philip Long's kidnapping and murder. I have a few questions.”

“I'm sorry, but I don't have time to talk to anyone else.”

“I'm afraid you need to make the time.”

“None of you understand how difficult this is. I have to make arrangements for my children. If the press gets wind of what's happened it's going to be all over the news.”

“I appreciate how disruptive this is for your family, but I have to insist.” Macy tipped her head toward the outside terrace where some tables sat next to the pool. “Let's go sit outside. You look like you could use some fresh air.”