Walleye Junction (8 page)

“You're just doing your job.”

“Do you know if Sean has had any contact with his real father recently?”

“Scott showed up in Sean's life just long enough to give Sean an idea of what he'd been missing when he got stuck with Lloyd as a stepfather,” said Kyle. “As far as I know, Sean hasn't seen him since he was ten.”

“Do you know Scott's last name? Sean may have tried to get in touch with him.”

“I really don't think Sean had anything to do with this.”

“We just want to speak to Sean,” said Macy. “At this point he's not a suspect.”

“His father's name is Scott Walker.”

“Is that all you have?”

“That might be all there is. He's a survivalist who lives off the grid.”

“They never make my job easy.”

“I imagine not.”

Macy checked her notes. “How long have you worked at Flathead Valley Security?”

“Since I finished university, so going on nine years now. I mostly deal with their computer systems. Because most of the properties are so isolated we have remote monitoring in place twenty-four seven. There's always some bug that needs fixing. We also do private security for events, banks, that sort of thing. You should see the size of some of the guys we employ. They make me look like a boy scout.”

“Have you ever had any dealings with a company called Mountain Security?”

“They're our main competition in the valley.”

“Do you share information?” asked Macy.

“Not if we want to keep our jobs. As far as my boss is concerned Mountain Security is the enemy.” Kyle rolled his eyes. “There's a lot of testosterone floating around over there at the office—ex military, ex cops. They all seem to think this is Mogadishu or something. Our crime rates are lower than the national average, but you wouldn't know it from how they're always going on.”

“Even New York's crime rate is dropping.”

“If this keeps up we'll all be put out of business.”

“I somehow doubt it will come to that.”

Kyle checked his watch. “I sure hope not. I need this job. I'm still paying off my student loans.”

Macy started gathering her things.

“I'd like you to keep what I've told you about Lloyd and Carla's involvement to yourself for the time being.”

“That won't be a problem,” said Kyle. “I'm in no hurry for this to become public. It's been difficult explaining my family in the past. I can only imagine what people will say this time.”

*   *   *

Aiden picked Macy up at her hotel room at half past nine. She was so tired she'd nearly canceled, but something told her she'd better make the effort.

“I've only just got back from doing interviews. I haven't even had a chance to take a shower.”

Aiden put his arms around her. “You are kind of smelly.”

She pressed her cheek into his freshly washed T-shirt. “And you smell annoyingly clean. Laundry detergent is such a turn on.”

“I'll remember that for next time,” he said, taking her bag and leading her to a pickup truck she didn't recognize.

“You've bought a new truck.”

“Not so new. It's got over twenty thousand miles on it. Picked it up at a dealership in Collier.”

“I know the one,” said Macy. “Does Toby Larson still own it?”

“Yeah, I got his whole song and dance. He's quite the salesman. Gave me a good deal though.”

“That's not surprising. He likes to keep law enforcement happy.”

“That's why I went there.” Aiden opened Macy's door and placed her bag in the backseat. “Are you still hungry?”

“They ordered in pizza at the office, but I resisted.”

“Good girl.”

Macy checked her messages as she settled into her seat. Ryan had sent her an e-mail. He agreed that Carla and Lloyd's bodies had probably been moved but wanted to run some more tests to be sure. She watched Aiden as he scanned the screen of his own phone. His eyes lit up and he burst out laughing.

“What's so funny?” she said.

He shrugged. “It's nothing. Just something the guys at work said. Not fit for female consumption.”

Macy noticed that his forehead was flushed red. She pressed her finger to it and the skin went white. “Looks like you caught some sun.”

“That's pretty much all I caught.”

“No fish.”

“Nothing worth keeping. I picked up a couple of steaks.” He switched on the radio. “I hope that's okay.”

“I never complain when someone offers to cook dinner.”

He tuned the radio to a local music station but kept the sound down low. “We can talk about the case. I know it's all you've got on your mind.”

“It takes time to process everything.”

“Feel free to process out loud.”

“I want my gun back. I hate to think that someone could use it again.”

He squeezed her hand. “This isn't your fault.”

“I ran over an innocent man before he was shot to death with my firearm.”

“Your gun was in the glove compartment. You couldn't have known it would end up in the middle of Route 93.”

Macy closed her eyes for a second. “Sorry, but there are only so many technicalities you can get away with in life. This isn't one of them.”

“I get it. I'd feel the same way if I were you, but at least you know the perpetrators are dead.”

She checked the rearview mirror out of habit. All she could see was the white glow of a pair of trailing headlights.

“I'm not so sure.”

“I thought things were looking pretty straightforward. Carla and Lloyd kidnap Philip Long hoping to make a quick buck and when it all goes wrong they take the easy way out.”

“There may have been a third party involved in the kidnapping, and Carla and Lloyd's deaths are a little more suspicious than we first thought. Their bodies were moved, and I'm not convinced either one of them had the skills needed to pull off what happened the night Philip Long was murdered.”

He glanced over at her.

“About seven years back Lloyd injured his back in a quad bike accident,” Macy said. “He couldn't have ridden the motorbike, and only one person has seen Carla on a bike in the past ten years.”

“I noticed an APB was out on their son.”

“It looks like he cleared out a few days ago. He stayed at his cousin's place, but the trail goes cold after that.”

“Could be a coincidence.”

“He's got a dirt bike and a shelf full of trophies,” said Macy.

“He must be fairly young though.”

“He's nineteen.”

“Does anyone in the family know where he's gone?” asked Aiden.

“Half the family is in rehab or recovering addicts and the other half are using. There have been a couple of other accidental overdoses and a suicide. It's depressing as hell. Aside from Sean's cousin, Kyle, they all seem to be on disability.”

“Was Sean using?”

“Seems he was clean in more ways than one. His room was a world apart—completely different from the rest of the family home. I can't imagine what it would be like to grow up in a place like that. I'd have never felt secure.”

“I've seen it before,” said Aiden. “Kids in those situations can become obsessed with creating order. It's their way of coping. More often than not they're the ones who are looking after their parents and not the other way around.”

“He graduated from high school last year and was due to start university in Bozeman this fall. Looks like he took a year off to make some money.”

“Did someone speak to his employer?”

Macy nodded. “He was a parts runner for Midas. The manager said he was a perfect employee. Handed in his notice two weeks ago.”

“Did he say why he was quitting?”

“Nothing concrete, but the manager did get the impression that things were stressful at home. Lloyd showed up a few times asking for Sean. They argued about money. On more than one occasion Lloyd called his stepson an ungrateful little shit.”

“Sounds like he left empty-handed.”

“Also sounds like they wouldn't have worked well together,” said Macy.

“But you've got to admit that Sean has motive and opportunity. University is expensive.”

“At one level it makes sense, but on another I don't see it.”

“How do you mean?”

“Philip Long's killer didn't hesitate. It was the most cold-blooded thing I've ever seen in my life. It's difficult for me to reconcile what I saw that night with what I know about Sean. He's a nineteen-year-old kid from Walleye Junction who was saving up for university.”

“Have you interviewed Philip Long's wife? Maybe there's a connection between the Spencer family and Philip Long we don't know about.”

“I'm stopping in tomorrow. The militia angle also needs to be explored further. It turns out Lloyd was a caller on Philip Long's radio program a month ago. He took issue with Long's views on the private militia movement. The ensuing argument got ugly.”

“I can only imagine,” said Aiden.

“I'm paraphrasing here, but I believe Lloyd said something like
show your face around here saying that sort of crap and I'll make sure you've got shit for brains
.”

“Nice.”

“A regular Cary Grant. He didn't give his real name, but the Spencer's home number showed up on caller ID.”

“They didn't think that through very well.”

“By the way, Lloyd and Carla's cell phones are missing. The ones we found at their house were temporary pay-as-you-go and they've been wiped clean.”

“Maybe they weren't so stupid after all,” said Aiden.

Aiden exited Route 93 and headed toward Wilmington Creek. Instead of turning on Main Street, he took a back road that passed in front of the town's high school. The school marquee announced an upcoming high school basketball game against Walleye Junction.

“Growing up here in the valley, did you ever come across Emma Long?”

He made a face. “I've heard some stuff about her, but she was quite a few years behind me in school so we never met. There was a rumor going around that she was gay. People said some pretty unkind things.”

“You've got a good memory.”

“Since the news broke about her father people have started talking again.”

“Which is probably why she's not lived here since leaving high school.” Macy held back a yawn. “It may not even be true.”

“Who knows? Apparently, she used to date the high school quarterback. Apparently, he's still heartbroken. Blah blah blah.”

“Sounds like a soap opera.”

“Speaking of which, how are you holding up?” asked Aiden. “Everyone being nice to you at your new job?”

“No, not everyone.”

“You're going to have to let me know if someone's ass needs kicking.”

“Thank you for the kind offer, but I can kick ass all on my own.” Macy took his hand. “All joking about ass-kicking aside, I've brought this on myself. I'm a walking, talking cliché. Affair with married boss, child born out of wedlock, single mom.”

“It's going to be rough. No matter what the facts are, some people will only see the story they want to see.”

“I don't even blame them,” said Macy. “I'd feel the same way if I was looking at the situation from the outside. Getting involved with Ray was incredibly stupid.”

“But getting a confession out of him was incredibly brave. You put yourself out there when you didn't have to. The right people will remember that.”

It was almost ten when Aiden pulled into the driveway of his one-story home. A trailer holding a drift boat was backed into the front yard. Macy grabbed her bag and stepped outside. They both stopped to admire the boat.

“Nice landscaping. Marsh. Very classy.”

He pulled her along to the house. “In these parts that qualifies as a lawn ornament.”

*   *   *

Twenty minutes later Macy stood in the living room wearing a pair of baggy sweatpants and one of Aiden's T-shirts. Her hair was still wet and she'd not bothered with makeup. The wooden floorboards felt cool and clean against her bare feet. Aiden was working in the kitchen. His back was to her and he'd not heard her come in. Jazz was playing on the stereo. She picked up the remote control and turned down the volume. Aiden's voice filled the room.

“Don't tell me that you don't like John Coltrane?” He handed her a glass of red wine. “I thought you might be needing this.”

Macy took the glass of wine and lied. “John Coltrane is fine. It's just a little loud.”

“I can change it if you like.”

She noticed that he'd gone to the trouble of setting the dining room table.

“I've brought no wine and I'm wearing a pair of baggy sweats. What on earth do you see in me, Aiden Marsh?”

He kissed her for a long time. “You're talking to a guy with a fishing boat parked on his front yard. As far as I'm concerned you always look great.” He kissed her again. “Taste great too.”

Macy put her glass aside and leaned into his chest so she could listen to his heart. Same sound, different man. The fact that he and Ray both listened to Coltrane was irrelevant. Aiden was different. Very different. She'd never met someone so ready to keep the peace. It even bothered her sometimes. On occasion she'd found herself being contrary for the sake of it, but he'd never taken the bait. He'd laughed and told her to grow up.

He kissed the top of her head.

“What's going on in that pretty little red head of yours?”

She lowered her voice. “I was just wondering when dinner was going to be ready.”

“That's entirely up to you.”

“In that case,” she said, locking her expression in neutral. “There's something important we need to discuss.”

He hesitated. “Is this about the case or is this about us?”