The Deadly River (20 page)

The River Rats were approaching the small town of Noxon when they heard a siren in the distance, over on the road that paralleled the river. Looking over, they saw a patrol car with the word “Sheriff” on the side. Its siren was blaring and its lights were flashing as it slowly moved down the highway beside them. They rowed across the river to get a better look. When they were about halfway across, it dawned on them that the Sheriff’s car was trying to attract their attention. A man was leaning out the driver’s side window motioning to them.

When the man in the car saw they were looking at him, he picked up a bullhorn and yelled through it. “Is Lee Raines with you?” Lee yelled his answer while giving the car a thumbs-up just in case he couldn’t be heard.

The bullhorn answered with, “Go downstream about a half-mile. The road meets the river there and we can talk.” Again Lee gave him a thumbs-up sign and they adjusted their course appropriately.

Mike was concerned. “I wonder what he wants with you, Dude?”

“I dunno. Seems a bit strange.”

Tony spoke up. “What if it’s a trick, Lee. Just because it’s a police car, doesn’t mean that was a police guy driving it. I never saw that guy before.”

Mike agreed with an explosive, “Shit! I never thought of that.”

Lee nodded. “Could be. Let’s not take a chance. Mike head for the bank. Tony, get the rifle out. When we hit the bank, jump out and parallel us down the river until you can see that car clearly. Get your sights on that guy and watch for a trick. If he starts anything, take him out.”

“You got it, Boss.” Tony was already getting the long rifle out of its waterproof sheath. As Mike rowed for the bank, he checked it and made sure a shell was in the chamber. They were still a couple of feet from the bank when he jumped and then disappeared in a crouching run, heading downriver.

Lee got one of the lever-action 30-30s out and checked it as Mike took them downstream. It only took a few minutes before the patrol car came into sight. Lee could see Tony lying flat on the crest of a small hill, his rifle trained on the man who was now getting out of the car.

The man waved at them, a careless, cheerful wave. Mike began heading the raft toward a small cove a few feet in front of the man. Lee sat deep in the raft grasping the rifle. This guy didn’t look like a lawman. He was a large man with a cartridge belt and holstered pistol that hung below his belly. He was wearing Levi’s and a flannel shirt, not the neat brown uniform that Frank Rose invariably wore.

When they were still about fifty feet away, Lee came up on one knee, still keeping the rifle hidden at his side. “What can I do for you?”

The big man kept coming without saying anything. In one smooth motion, Lee brought the rifle to bear on him. “Hold it right there. Do not come closer. What do you want with us?”

This brought the big man to an abrupt stop. “Whoa, fellas. No need for a gun. I’m Sanders County Sheriff Dale Gunderson. Sheriff Rose asked me to get a message to you. That’s what I’m trying to do, dammit!”

“Let’s see some credentials, sir. We’ve been told to be careful and that’s what we are gonna do. Mike, stop the boat.” Raising his voice, Lee yelled to Tony who was invisible to them from this angle. “Tony, Come on down and check this guy’s ID please.”

When Tony rose from his hiding place, Gunderson’s jaw dropped. “Holy shit!” He seemed astounded. He repeated it, “Holy shit!” With
one hand, he slowly reached into his back pocket and pulled out a tattered wallet with a star pinned to it. He opened the wallet to show a card to Tony.

When Tony was close enough, he checked the card, being careful not to get between Lee and the big man. Finally, he looked up. “I think he’s okay, Lee. This says he’s a Sheriff and his name’s Gunderson. I know that the sheriff over here is named Gunderson, so I think he’s all right.”

Lee relaxed a bit, but kept his position and didn’t lower his rifle. “All right, Mike. Move the raft in so we can talk.”

Raising his voice, Lee addressed the man. “What’s the message, sir?”

“Frank Rose needs to see you as soon as you can get over there. He says that he’s been trying to contact you around St. Dubois, but you haven’t been there lately. Apparently you’re a witness in a trial that’s about to start. He needs for you to come over and meet with him and Don Warthen, so you can be ready to testify.”

“Okay, got it. Thank you for getting the word to me. I’m sorry if we aren’t very hospitable, but we have to be careful because of the same case that I have to testify about. I hope you understand.” He still hadn’t lowered his gun barrel. It wasn’t aimed directly at Gunderson any longer, but it was in a position where it could be brought to bear immediately if it was needed.

“I guess I do. But, dammit, please be careful how you guys wave those things around. Someone could get hurt.” He was blustering now, embarrassed at how he’d been trapped by three teen-aged kids.

“We will, sir. Thank you for the information. You can tell Sheriff Rose that I’ll be there first thing tomorrow morning. C’mon Tony, climb in and lets go back upriver.”

They’d hidden one of the pickup trucks about a mile upstream. Lee’s car was in a nearby motel parking lot. While they rowed, they discussed this new development and decided to keep the job going while Lee was gone. None of them were overly concerned at this point with the guard requirements, although the encounter with Sheriff Gunderson had shaken them up somewhat. Mike and Tony could easily handle
the sampling job and they only had a few more miles to go before the Clark Fork opened into Lake Pend Oreille in Idaho. At that point, the only remaining work would be the fifteen miles of samples between Big River and St. Dubois.

They tied off the raft and drove Lee back to his car where they shook hands and parted company.

Lee drove toward St. Dubois, wondering what this new adventure would be like. Although his father had been a lawyer, he had never been in a court while a trial was underway. He realized that he was excited, and more than a little nervous, at the thought of testifying in court.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: THE TRIAL

“A
ll rise! All rise for the Honorable Angus McClain, District Court Judge, Fourth Judicial District, State of Montana, United States of America.” The deep voice of the Deputy Sheriff who doubled as the Court Bailiff rang through the little courtroom, signaling a start to the trial of Mr. William Wards.

The judge, a large man with a florid complexion, was nonchalant as he took his seat behind the tall judicial bench. “Be seated.”

Lee was sitting in the back row of the courtroom, beside Ray Moore and his wife, Dawn. None of the three had ever participated in a trial before and they were excitedly hanging on every word.

The bailiff went on to announce that this was a capital murder trial and that Mr. William Wards was being tried for three counts of murder, two counts of attempted murder, one count of robbery, and numerous associated offenses. The announcement of these offenses went on for almost five minutes as Lee listened carefully. By the end of the long announcement, Lee decided that the trial was going to be a lot more boring than he’d anticipated.

County Attorney Don Warthen opened the trial with an impassioned speech stating that the defendant, Mr. William Wards, had actively pursued, over a period of at least six years, a policy of killing business competitors and anyone who opposed his ambitions in any way. He went on to describe in general terms, each of the murders that Jose Ortega had told him about.

Warthen finished his opening statement by describing the murder of Kurt Kochran and the wounding of young Ben Stanton as well as the
attempted murder of Ray Moore and Lee Raines. “One of Mr. Wards business goals during the past year was to clear-cut the cedar forest up Little Joe Creek. This is a project worth millions of dollars. To get official approval for this project, the federal government has charged that Mr. Wards bribed government officials. He will go to trial on those charges in Federal Court at the conclusion of this trial. In any case, Mr. Wards’ intentions regarding the Little Joe cedar forest were thwarted when Mr. Kurt Kochran and Mr. Ray Moore brought congressional pressure to bear on the forest service. Subsequently, the forest service cancelled the timber sale that Mr. Wards was counting on.”

He continued, “We will prove that Mr. Wards was heard to actively threaten the lives of Mr. Kochran and Mr. Moore because of this cancellation, saying they would both die on the same day and that this would send a message to the congressmen who forced cancellation of the timber sale. It was this vendetta by Mr. Wards that resulted in his capture when he attempted to murder Mr. Moore and another person, Mr. Lee Raines, who happened to be with Mr. Moore at the time. It was later discovered that Mr. Kochran was killed and another innocent young man was shot and wounded on the same morning that the attempt was made on Mr. Moore and Mr. Raines. We will prove during this trial that Mr. Wards did commit these offenses as well as the other murders detailed earlier. Mr. Wards’ criminal actions have resulted in at least three deaths and serious injury to several others. We have concluded that Mr. Wards’ continued freedom constitutes a clear and present danger to our community. Therefore, we, representing the people of Montana, will seek the death penalty in this case.”

Lee and Ray whispered excitedly to each other. They hadn’t heard about the bribery charge before this. That charge explained a lot of questions that local people had about how Wards had been so successful in getting timber sales steered his way. It fit well into the picture that Warthen was painting with his words.

There were three lawyers at the defense table beside Bill Wards. The lead defense counsel, Mr. Leventhall, rose to rebut the County Attorneys opening statements. “The County Attorney has accused my client of some heinous crimes. In Mr. Warthen’s mind, my client is apparently
guilty of everything from murder to spitting on the sidewalk. I’m surprised he didn’t charge Mr. Wards with shoplifting or wife-beating. That’s about all he missed.”

The judge interrupted. “That’s enough, Mr. Leventhall. I’ll have no sarcasm in my courtroom.”

“Sorry, Judge.” Then the lawyer continued. “My client is being accused of a total of three murders. Of those three murders, two of the bodies do not exist, or if they do, they haven’t been found as of this date. I don’t know how the County Attorney can possibly claim these people are even dead, let alone murdered by my client. The third murder, that of Mr. Kochran, was indeed a murder, a senseless murder for which someone should be punished. But not my client! There isn’t a shred of evidence proving that my client had anything to do with this murder. Not a shred!

He paused to let that sink in with the jury, then continued. “As far as the supposed attempted murder of Mr. Moore and his friend, that was nothing more than a fistfight that the County Attorney is trying to magnify to help him prove his case. At the end of the day, this court will have no choice but to find Mr. Wards innocent of all charges because that’s the truth. Mr. Wards did not do any of the things he is accused of doing.”

The defense counsel walked back to his table, turned toward the jury and added, “He is innocent!”

Ray whispered derisively to Lee out of the corner of his mouth. “Yeah, right.” But Lee wasn’t so sure. He knew that Wards was guilty, but he wasn’t so sure that the County Attorney could prove that fact beyond a reasonable doubt.

After some procedural issues, the prosecution was asked to produce its first witness. The County Attorney called Mr. William (Willy) Gohmert to the stand. According to the schedule, Ray was to testify next, then Dawn. Lee would follow Dawn and Sheriff Rose would testify after him.

At this point, Ray, Dawn, and Lee were required to leave the courtroom. County Attorney Warthen had explained that this was necessary since there was to be no collaboration between their testimonies. The
prosecution wanted to make sure the defense couldn’t claim that anyone was simply copying another person’s testimony when on the stand.

The three spent a long afternoon in the company of a deputy sheriff in a hot conference room adjacent to the courtroom, waiting for Willy’s testimony to conclude. It was almost 5 p.m. when the sheriff stopped by to tell them that Willy had finished, but the court had adjourned for the day. The three were instructed to go home and return in the morning. They were to have no contact with any of the people who had attended the trial that afternoon.

Lee had an early dinner that evening at Big River’s Four Aces Bar and Grill. He stayed away from the truck stop and café in St. Dubois to make sure he complied with the sheriff’s directions.

The next morning, Lee and Dawn reported to the deputy in the conference room. Dawn had brought some board games, so they killed time playing Monopoly while waiting to be called. Finally, at about two o’clock that afternoon, the call came for Dawn.

Lee waited for the remainder of the day and then had another lonely dinner at the Four Aces. Apparently Dawn wasn’t finished testifying, so tomorrow he’d be waiting again in the little conference room.