The Deadly River (9 page)

The County Attorney stood to shake Lee’s hand, then immediately got down to business. He briefed Lee on what to expect at the trial and asked Lee to describe the robbery. As Lee talked, he took notes and interrupted to ask questions frequently. When the story was finished, he compared his notes with those he had taken from other witnesses. Satisfied, he sat back and thanked Lee for his cooperation.

“The trial is scheduled for the second week in August. I may need to see you a few days before that to go over any new things that may come up between now and then. Can you be available if I give you a few day’s notice?”

“Yeah. Shouldn’t be a problem. I’ll try to check in with Ray Moore at least twice a week until then. If you need me, just get word to him and I’ll show up.”

Sheriff Rose, who had been a silent observer through most of the meeting, agreed with this approach. “Don, if you need him, let me know and I’ll work with Ray Moore to get him for you.”

Warthen nodded. “Okay, Mr. Raines. Do you have any questions before we break up here?”

Lee thought for a moment. “Only one, sir. I’ve been told that this guy might try to get out of a trial by trading info with you. At this point, are you sure the trial will happen? Also, are you positive of the trial date?”

“Sorry, Mr. Raines. There are some things I just can’t discuss openly. Let me just say that, unless something changes, the trial date is firm. If there are any changes in the future, I’ll get the word to you as fast as possible. Okay?”

“Sure. Thank you.” With that, Lee and the Sheriff rose to leave, both shaking hands with the County Attorney, who didn’t rise from his chair.

As they went down the long hallway toward the courthouse door, Sheriff Rose turned to Lee and laughed. “You really didn’t expect him to answer that question about Willy trading info, did you?”

Lee grinned. “No. But I’m really curious as to whether there’s a deal to be made there. Is someone else involved or is Willy just the hapless idiot that he appears to be?”

The sheriff stopped and turned an appraising stare on the youngster. “You know, I’m starting to think that you’re a lot sharper than I gave you credit for. I can’t answer that question except to say that there’s no reason that both answers couldn’t be in the affirmative. It’s always easy to get a hapless idiot to do things a smart person wouldn’t try. And it’s pretty hard to prove that there was anyone telling the idiot what to do when he did it.”

It was Lee’s turn to search the sheriff’s face, trying to read between the lines. But the sheriff was impassive and Lee knew he would learn no more that day. He smiled and the two went through the courthouse door into the bright sunlight.

By the time Lee was back in his cabin, it was too late to begin another hunt for the elusive lake. So he bought a newspaper and a Max Brand western from the general store and settled in for a relaxing afternoon at the cabin. The little front porch featured a wooden swing that, when padded with the cabin’s bedding, made a comfortable place to read and watch the world pass by.

CHAPTER NINE: REVELATION

I
t was almost eight o’clock when the evening chill woke Lee. He was still on the porch swing, with the novel half-read on his lap. Shaking his head, he laughed aloud at himself.
I must’ve been really tired
. Standing, he carried the bedding back inside, splashed his face, and made himself presentable. His stomach was telling him that it was dinner time. Once again, he crossed the highway and took a seat in the café.

The café was crowded tonight. Several truck drivers were swapping road stories at the end of the counter. Some teenagers that Lee didn’t know were making a mess on a table in the corner opposite the truckers. The stool next to the cash register was empty, so Lee slid into it and found himself facing Betty. She gave him a big smile and a quick “Be right with you, Lee.” He nodded and began studying the menu. Soon she returned, brought him coffee and took his order.

He was sipping the coffee and thinking about the plan for tomorrow when a voice at his elbow signaled the arrival of another acquaintances. “Hi Lee. What’s new with you?” It was Kurt Kochran, still dressed in the Levi’s and flannel shirt he’d been wearing on the river that day.

“Hey Kurt. Good to see you. Nothing much new here. Had to meet with the County Attorney about that robbery, but that wasn’t particularly exciting. What’s new with you? How is the river float going?”

“Not bad. We’ve worked our way down to just east of Big River. Tomorrow we’ll pass the mouth of Thunder Creek where the runoff from the International Match sawmill hits the river. I’m anxious to see
the pollution readings we get there. So far, the reading have been even worse than we expected.”

“How so?”

“Well, the heavy metal and chemical contamination was worse than we thought from the headwaters down to the conflux of the Clark Fork and Blackfoot Rivers, just east of Missoula. There’s a dam, the Milltown Dam, just below where the two rivers come together that’s been stopping a lot of the mine and sawmill waste behind it. We found out that the dirt behind the dam is very badly contaminated. In fact, it’s just a kind of greasy sludge down at least four feet into the river bottom. I don’t know how on earth anyone will ever be able to fix that place. There’s a massive area there that’s so badly contaminated that it must look like Hiroshima under the water - and it’s probably just as deadly.”

He stopped to take a sip of coffee, then continued. “But the dam did stop a lot of the heavier contamination. Below the dam, we’re finding less heavy metal contamination, but about as much in the way of chemicals. Plus, we’re finding a tremendous amount of human waste contamination from Missoula on down the river. It gets really disgusting sometimes.” Kurt had let this all run out in a gusher of words. He was obviously disheartened by what he had found.

“Wow.” Lee paused, thinking about this revelation. Then he continued, “I heard that there are even some outhouses built on piers over the river. Is that true?”

“Not so much anymore. There were some a few years ago, but then we had a big spring flood and it took most of them out.” Kurt chuckled, “I guess the river got even with them.” Then he grew serious again. “But I did see one outhouse built on a big log raft just west of Missoula and I know of one on a pier in the area we’ll be looking at tomorrow. I heard that there’s another just west of Big River.”

Kurt leaned back and took another noisy sip of his hot coffee. “What’s new with you? What’ve you been doing with yourself lately?”

“I’ve just been hiking and seeing the sights. Just stopped for a good night’s rest and some food. Today’s visit with the County Attorney was about that robbery we had here. He’s getting ready to go to trial next month and I’m being called as a witness. I’ll have to be back for that.
I’ll probably head back into the mountains again in the morning. Still doing that errand for my parents.”

“Okay, Lee. My curiosity is killing me. What is this mysterious errand you are doing for them?”

“Well, it’s going to sound silly. That’s why I don’t talk about it much.”

“I promise not to laugh. What is it?”

“Well, okay then. My Dad had a painting of a lake above his desk for the past few years. The title down in the corner of the painting was ‘Montana Mountain Lake’. Dad’s dream was to find that lake when he retired. He couldn’t make it happen, so I’m doing it for him. That’s why I’m crawling all over the mountains, but I haven’t had any luck yet.”

“You’re talking about him in the past tense. I hate to ask, but is there a reason for that?”

Lee’s face must have answered the question because Kurt’s next words tumbled out rapidly. “Sorry Lee. That was a stupid question and it’s none of my business.”

Lee took a long breath. “No, Kurt. It’s okay. I’ve gotta start talking about it eventually. You’re right. He’s gone. He and my mother both went together. A car accident on a icy road last winter. I was a mess for a while, then I started looking for the lake. I guess the solitude has helped. But it’s still not something that I like to talk about.”

Kurt’s voice was soft and thoughtful, “I understand.” The two men fell silent for a moment. Betty returned with Lee’s dinner and more coffee for them both. The interval while she took Kurt’s order was secretly a welcome reprieve for both men. This had turned into a difficult conversation.

Ray Moore came into the café just then and took a seat beside Kurt. “Hi guys. How’s life? Kurt, where you working now?”

“Hitting the mouth of Thunder Creek tomorrow. Plan to spend most of the day there, just to be sure I don’t miss anything.”

Ray agreed with this. “Yeah. Don’t let that big mill up Thunder Creek off the hook. They can afford to fix the problems they cause.” Then, leaning past Kurt, he asked Lee, “How did it go with Warthen today? Anything new there?”

“Nope. Pretty much the same things that you had told me. But he did make you a point of contact for me. If they need to get me for any reason, the sheriff will call you. I’ll check in regularly with you to see if there’s any messages. I hope that’s okay with you?”

“Sure. No problem.”

But Kurt wasn’t through with their previous discussion. As soon as there was a break in the conversation, he came back to it by asking Lee, “Did you bring the painting of the lake with you?”

“Yes. Believe it or not, I did. I also took a bunch of pictures of it that I carry with me.”

Now Ray was curious. “What lake?”

Lee’s mouth was full, so Kurt took it on himself to explain the story of the lake to Ray. When he got to the fact that Lee’s parents had died in the car wreck, Ray couldn’t contain himself. “Holy crap, Lee. Is that why you left the university?” Lee just nodded. His eyes had filled as he’d listened to Kurt tell his story. He couldn’t trust himself to speak right then.

The men saw Lee’s plight and took mercy. They talked between themselves about the thousands of lakes in the Montana mountains and how finding one specific lake could be almost an impossible mission.

Lee quietly wiped his overflowing eyes and composed himself. When he was able, he took a bite of his dinner. Kurt took this as a signal to return to the conversation. “Can we see one of the pictures? We might be able to help. We’ve visited a lot of the lakes that have good trout in them. Maybe we can help.”

“Sure.” Lee took a lake photo out of his shirt pocket and passed it to them. Kurt just looked at it, shook his head and passed it on to Ray. The reaction was instantaneous. Ray gasped, actually sucking in a gulp of air noisily. Then he softly, almost reverently, let out a very elongated word. “Sheeeiiiiit! I don’t believe this.” He was staring fixedly at the picture.

Lee couldn’t contain himself. “What is it Ray? Do you know that place?” He was so excited that he was almost stammering.

Ray held up the picture, pointing at the little cabin at the end of the lake. “That was my Dad - I mean my Uncle’s - work cabin. He worked
a mine behind it. The lake is Flynn Lake.” He stopped, overcome. He, in turn, now had tears in his eyes. “The painting was done by my mother, Hilda Moore. She sold it to a tourist a few years back.” He stopped, still staring at the photograph, unable to say more.

Lee was speechless. His long quest was almost over.

Ray cleared his throat noisily. “Come over here tomorrow morning at about eleven. I’ll clear out my work before then so I can take you to the lake.” He got up and walked out before either Lee or Kurt could say anything. He was scrubbing furiously at his wet eyes as he left the café. Lee had the same problem. Kurt was, for once, speechless.

CHAPTER TEN: FAREWELL

S
leep wouldn’t come to Lee that night. Thoughts flew through his head, each one more fascinating than the last. Suddenly he was realizing that he didn’t have any plans for the rest of his life. He’d been so solidly focused on finding the lake that everything else had been swept aside. Now his thoughts turned to his future and he discovered he had a dilemma. He had no desire to go back to Pennsylvania, nor did he want to return to the university. But he knew that his days of roaming the mountains had come to an end. Tossing and turning, he fought with himself over this problem until dawn. Even though he spent an hour puttering with his gear and his car, he was at the café for breakfast three hours before his scheduled rendezvous with Ray Moore.

Finally, the time arrived. Ray walked into the café, his voice booming, “You ready, Lee?” His voice gave no hint of the tearful person that had so hastily exited the café the evening before. Ray had obviously composed himself. Lee hoped he could do the same.

“Yup. Ready as I’ll ever be, I guess. Want to take my car?”

“No. Let’s take my truck. I want to bring down some things from the cabin anyway and this is a good chance to do that, if you don’t mind.”

“Sure. No problem.” The two left the café and prepared to climb into Ray’s pickup. But first, Ray went to the passenger side and reaching in, removed a rifle. Lee noticed it was a Model 94 Winchester carbine, much like one that his father had used to teach him to shoot years ago. Ray removed it from the front seat where it had been resting and slid it onto a blanket behind the passenger seat. “I always bring Old
Betsy along when I head into the woods. You never know when you might run into a coyote or a cougar.”