Walleye Junction (38 page)

Macy looked over at the tents. A few glowed in the dark. She didn't think Kristina was the type to hide away in a tent when there was a party going on.

“Do you even know them?” asked Macy.

“You're just going to have to trust me,” he said, pulling her along.

“I'll find them on my own,” she said, yanking her arm away. “Let go of me.”

He threw her up against a nearby car and pinned her down.

“You're going nowhere,” he said.

Macy's knee came up like a piston, hitting him hard in the groin. He cried out as he doubled over. She was tempted to pull out her firearm but kneed him in the side of the head instead.

“I don't have time for your bullshit,” said Macy, taking a handful of his hair and twisting his head around so she could get a better look at him. “I'm looking for a girl with bleach-blond hair with black tips. Tell me where to find her or get the fuck out of my way.”

He glared at her. “That fucking hurt.”

“I'll do worse if you don't tell me what I need to know.”

“Around back behind the stage. There was a girl who looked like that in the VIP area.”

Macy leaned in closer. “I know what you're up to. Fuck with any of the girls here and I'll come find you.”

Macy headed for the stage. Strobe lights pulsed above the sea of dancers and music pumped out of speakers the size of refrigerators. A DJ wearing headphones stood in a booth that sat on the back of a flatbed truck that was surrounded by a low barrier. Macy kept to the edge of the dance floor, her eyes scanning the crowd for any sign of Kristina, figuring she'd stand out more than Sean. Glow sticks and face paint aside, most of the girls looked like your average Flathead Valley teenagers.

Macy dodged a group of wasted youth who were clinging to anything that would keep them upright. One toppled to the floor, taking his friends down with him. Elation was soon followed by panic. They grabbed the legs of other dancers as they tried to get up. More fell into the pit. Macy pulled a girl free. She wrapped her arms around Macy's neck and kissed her on the cheek before staggering away. Two boys rolled around in the chaos pummeling each other with their fists, oblivious to the fact that they were crushing anyone who was stuck beneath them. The crowd closed in, and Macy was swept off her feet as a pair of arms locked around her from behind.

By the time she recognized the smell of whiskey and cigarettes it was too late. The boy she'd encountered outside was back. He shoved Macy up against the barrier and pulled up her shirt with one hand while tugging at the waistline of her jeans with the other. She reached over her head and dug her thumbs deep into his eye sockets before twisting around and throwing several punches. The third one was a direct hit. His head snapped back and he dropped like a stone. Macy gave him a final shove and watched as he disappeared into the crowd.

*   *   *

Yards of dank plastic sheeting hung from a latticework of scaffolding that had been erected to block off an area at the rear of the hangar. She pulled it to the side and stepped over the metal frame and yards of thick power cables. Flathead Valley's version of a VIP section was no more than a couple of trestle tables covered with booze and a few dozen beanbag chairs thrown onto the floor.

It was difficult to see anything clearly under the fast-pulsing lights. Most of the kids were crowded around the bar area mixing drinks in large plastic cups. To the right, a set of double doors was propped open with a chair. Outside there was a floodlit area adjacent to the gated entrance to the airfield. She'd counted two security guards so far.

Macy spotted Kristina in an office located at the rear of the hangar. She was pacing back and forth, smoking a cigarette, in front of a window that faced the building's interior. She stopped to gaze out onto the crowd gathered around the trestle tables. She looked as if she'd been lifted straight from the pages of a graphic novel. Her bleached hair was piled high on her head and dark makeup outlined her eyes. Her lips appeared to be painted black. Macy had never seen anyone like her before. For a few seconds she was transfixed.

The girl next to Macy threw her arm sideways and the contents of her cup soaked the front of Macy's jacket. She looked Macy in the face and burst out laughing.

“Sorry, Mom.”

“Go home,” Macy said, pushing past her. “It's past your bedtime.”

*   *   *

Macy double-checked that the safety was on before sweeping into the office with her gun drawn. She kicked the door shut behind her.

“Police,” she yelled. “Put your hands up where I can see them.”

Kristina stood on the opposite side of a large metal desk, leaning out a window that was a few feet away from the airport's perimeter fence. She flicked her half-finished cigarette outside before turning to face Macy. She didn't look alarmed. She looked bored. Her hands hovered between up and down like she was unable to commit to either of the two. She spoke with a distinct accent, but her diction was spot on.

“Why are you pointing a gun at me?” said Kristina. “I haven't done anything wrong.”

“Keep your hands where I can see them. I need to see some ID.”

Kristina shook her head.

“Suit yourself,” said Macy. “I'm still going to arrest you.”

Kristina leaned back against the window frame and took a quick peek outside. It looked like she was deciding whether she should make a run for it.

Macy raised the gun higher. “Don't even think about it.”

“You cops are such fascists. Kids should be able to have a good time. We're not hurting anyone.”

Macy ran her eyes over Kristina's features. The dyed hair and thick makeup couldn't hide everything. Kristina had put in some miles.

“Hate to break it to you, but you're no kid,” said Macy. “I'm guessing you're older than I am.”

“That doesn't mean we can't have fun. When was the last time you had a good time, Detective Greeley?” Kristina's tone was withering. “I'm guessing it's been at least a decade.”

“How do you know my name?”

“I'm old like you. I read the papers.”

“Then you know I'm looking for your friend Sean Spencer in connection with Philip Long's kidnapping and murder.”

“I haven't seen Sean in weeks.”

“You were with him yesterday. You posted a picture online.”

A slight smile. “Yesterday was throwback Thursday.”

“Kristina, quit bullshitting me. Sean is only nineteen. He's already lost his mother and stepfather. He stands to lose much more if he doesn't come forward soon.”

“You really don't have a clue what's going on,” said Kristina.

“Enlighten me.”

“Sean wasn't involved in Philip Long's murder.”

“That's for the authorities to decide.”

“We sent you the files from the story Long was working on. It's all there in black and white. We can't help it if you're incompetent.”

“Kristina, we're in the middle of a major investigation. You don't seem to realize how many tips we receive from the public over the course of a day. We can't cover everything. Your e-mail could have been much clearer. Why didn't you tell us from the beginning that the files were Philip Long's?” Macy's words came out in a rush. “Who gave the files to you? Was it Carla?”

They both glanced at the back window facing the perimeter fence. A long line of patrol cars was heading up the access road with their emergency lights on.

“We need to know what happened at that house where Long was being held captive,” said Macy. “I'm thinking that Carla contacted Sean and gave him the files. Sean has to give us everything. We need more evidence if we're going to make a case.”

“You'll have to work with what you have,” said Kristina. “The memory stick Carla used was corrupted. We salvaged what we could.”

“Why won't Sean come in and talk to us?”

“I know how things work in this country,” said Kristina. “Sean is a poor kid with no family connections. You'll twist the facts and he'll end up getting the blame. I won't let you do that to him.”

“That's not how I do things. I'd never let that happen.”

“This is bigger than you. The pharmaceutical companies and doctors are behind what happened. It's a government conspiracy.”

“Kristina, this case is neither global nor glamorous. I believe a local doctor paid Sean's parents a lot of money to kidnap Philip Long before his story on prescription drug abuse could be aired. The story would have ruined the doctor's career. Someone else was involved in Long's murder and I'm pretty sure Sean knows who it was.”

Kristina stared at Macy but said nothing.

Macy raised her voice. “Why is Sean so hell-bent on protecting the man who murdered his mother and stepfather?”

“What are you talking about,” said Kristina, matching Macy's tone. “Sean's parents died of an overdose.”

“Someone held Carla down and put a gun to her head,” said Macy. “She and Lloyd didn't die by their own hands.”

Kristina took a few seconds to respond. It was the first time she seemed uncertain.

“That wasn't in the papers,” said Kristina.

“As you're so keen on government conspiracies, it shouldn't come as a surprise that the police don't tell the press everything.”

“I'm not saying anything more until I talk to Sean.”

“You're smart, Kristina. You know we'll track down Sean eventually. He's withholding evidence. Right now I can protect you, but if you leave it too long he'll be charged with obstruction. Someone has already murdered three people. They'll go after Sean if they think he knows something.” Macy lowered her gun. “He needs to come in and talk to us. Can you make that happen?”

“I don't know.”

“Kristina, do you really think a life on the run is what's best for Sean? He's just a kid. You need to give him a chance to—”

Several shots rang out. The windows behind Macy shattered into sharp fragments that flew across the room. Macy dropped flat onto the floor and shouted at Kristina to do the same. Gunfire raked the wall above their heads. Broken glass and splintered wood showered down on them. Macy crawled behind the desk and sat next to Kristina. The lights went out at the same time as the music. Macy looked up in time to catch a flash of Kristina leaping out the back window. Macy checked the door one last time before holstering her firearm and following Kristina out into the night.

Macy caught glimpses of Kristina as they ran along the runway's perimeter. She was a good fifty yards ahead and moving fast. Macy followed her through an opening in the fence and headed down a narrow track that twisted through the dense wood. She was just beginning to lose her way when she rounded a bend and stumbled out into open terrain. Ahead of her the Flathead River glowed under a sky straining beneath the weight of stars. Upstream nothing moved among the low shrubs dotting the flat gray river stones. Downstream, Kristina climbed up a steep slope to where the land plateaued. As she leaped across boulders the size of cars, Macy could see her body was in silhouette. In the distance, a thin line of headlights marked the course of Route 93.

Macy stood still and listened. It was faint at first, but she soon recognized the guttural roar of an engine. A dirt bike tore out of the trees a few dozen feet from where she stood. It skipped across the uneven terrain heading south along the shoreline, the whine of its engine fading with distance. Macy checked the plateau. If it weren't for the soft glow of Kristina's cigarette, Macy wouldn't have spotted her. Seconds later the light went out and Kristina was gone.

 

19

Macy checked the time. It was coming up to three in the afternoon and she'd not slept in two days. She ordered another cup of coffee from the waitress and tried to shake herself awake. It had been nearly two hours since she spoke to Sean Spencer on the phone. She'd still been at the abandoned airfield and had to scramble to get to the diner in time for their meeting, but after waiting for almost an hour, she was worried he'd changed his mind. The diner's front door swung open and Sean stood in the entrance looking uncertain. He appeared older than Macy expected. Taller too. When he spotted Macy, he shouldered his backpack and slowly made his way to her table.

Sean dropped into the empty seat opposite her and removed his baseball cap. His dark hair hung across his eyes, and he had the beginnings of a beard. Macy pushed a menu across the table and told him to order something if he was hungry. He was polite when the waitress came to the table.

“I'm relieved you came,” said Macy. “I was worried you wouldn't show up.”

“I didn't have much choice. Kristina said it was either this or never seeing her again.”

“Do you have any questions for me before we get started?” asked Macy.

He began to speak but stopped. “I'm sorry,” he said. “This is harder than I thought it would be.”

“I imagine it's been a rough time for you.”

He cleared his throat.

“You told Kristina that my mom and Lloyd were murdered. Is that true or were you feeding her some bullshit line so I'd talk to you?”

“I'm afraid it's true. Do you want me to go into detail?”

He looked away. “Not now.”

“Sean, someone else was involved in Philip Long's kidnapping and murder. It's probable they killed Long and your parents as well. I think you know who I'm talking about.”

There were tears in his eyes.

“It was my cousin, Kyle,” he said.

Sean looked up as their food arrived. He'd ordered two double cheeseburgers, French fries, and a Coke. Macy's salad looked anemic in comparison. She pushed it to one side and ordered a cheeseburger for herself.

“We've had our suspicions about your cousin, but we have four people swearing he was in Missoula when Philip Long was kidnapped and murdered,” said Macy.