C. Box - The Highway

Cassie parked the Expedition along Scott Street in front of the shop and climbed out and brushed crumbs from her lap and the front of her coat. She’d filled the tank and eaten a half-dozen miniature chocolate donuts at a convenience store near the bridge that crossed the Yellowstone River. The clerk behind the counter, a bald man with a full beard who wore suspenders, said he’d never heard of the quilt shop. A woman customer behind her chewed the man out for being oblivious and gave Cassie directions.

She could hear the roar of the river behind the row of shops. It was far below them in the canyon, but the sound of rushing water carried.

White lace curtains on the inside gave it a homey, quaint feel, Cassie thought. It stood out from the elk antler look of the rest of the town. The shop, like all the buildings on the block, was close to the street. Only a narrow strip of brown grass behind the white picket fence separated if from the sidewalk.

A small bell rang as she pushed through the door. The shop was small and filled with fabrics on tables and displayed on the walls. A slim dark-haired woman looked up and smiled shyly from behind a sewing machine at an antique desk at the front. The machine she was working with went silent.

“Good thing you made it,” the woman said. “I was planning to close at noon today for the holiday. But not to worry. You can browse as long as you like. The fabric on the tables is marked twenty percent off, and I’m running a nice special on fat quarters.”

Cassie was embarrassed not to know what a fat quarter was and didn’t ask. She always felt guilty about knowing so little about quilting and other sewing crafts. Instead, she squared her shoulders and said, “Are you the owner?”

“Yes.”

Sally Legerski looked gentle and almost elegant, Cassie thought. She had high cheekbones, a wide mouth, and large blue eyes and she was slim and petite. Cassie could see very little of Edna in her facial features or build. Although she guessed Sally to be in her late forties, it wasn’t hard to imagine that she’d been quite a beauty in her teens and twenties. Quite the contrast with Edna.

Cassie dug into her purse and withdrew her wallet badge and let it flop open.

“Mrs. Legerski, I’m Investigator Cassandra Dewell from the Lewis and Clark County Sheriff’s Department. I’m in the area investigating the disappearance of two teenage girls last night and I hope you can answer a couple of questions.”

“Oh, dear.” Cassie could tell it was an expression of concern for the girls, not alarm that Sally was being questioned. Cassie had deliberately not mentioned Cody. For some reason, she didn’t think that would help her.

“Two girls from Colorado on their way to Helena were last heard from after they passed through town. Since then, we’ve not been able to locate them or their vehicle. It’s been over eighteen hours.”

“I see,” Sally said, obviously puzzled where the line of inquiry would go from there. After a beat, she asked, “Are you wondering if I saw them?”

Cassie raised her eyebrows. “Did you?”

“I don’t think so,” Sally said. “It’s possible, though. There is quite a lot of traffic that passes down that street out there right outside my window. You know, people going to and from the park. Right now it’s very quiet, but in the summer it gets kind of ridiculous. It gets noisy and I tend to just tune it out. What time did you say they came through town?”

Cassie checked her notes. “After nine.”

“P.M.?”

“Yes.”

“Then I’m sure I didn’t see them. I was home by then. I live up on the hill where I can’t see the road. I hope someone saw them, though, and you’re able to find them. This whole town is dead by that time in the winter. I get so worried about young girls driving alone on the highway. Are you asking me because they were quilters or something?”

Cassie felt a flush of embarrassment in her cheeks.

“Not that I know of.”

Sally Legerski nodded, and said, “Well, okay, ” as a polite way of saying, Then why are you here?

Cassie took a deep breath and chanced a concerned smile. She said, “I should probably just come clean with you.”

Sally cocked her head slightly to the side, puzzled.

“I want to ask you some questions about your ex-husband, Trooper Rick Legerski.”

At the sound of his name, Sally’s eyes and expression iced up. It was a visceral reaction, Cassie thought. Sally pushed back from the table and folded her arms over her breasts.

“What about him?”

“Mind if I sit down?” Cassie asked, gesturing to a folding chair on the side of the table.

Sally nodded her okay.

Cassie sat down so the two were much closer, so it would seem more like a conversation than an interrogation.

“I met with him this morning about the missing girls since he’s the only patrolman on this stretch of highway,” Cassie said. “I guess we didn’t hit it off very well. I came away with the feeling he was holding something back on me. I got the feeling there were things going on behind the scenes he didn’t want to tell me about. I’m new to this job and I’m a stranger down here in Park County. So I was wondering…” she faltered. What is it exactly she wanted to know? Did she want an ex-wife to dish dirt on her ex-husband? What was the point of that? To get revenge on the man who called her a horrible name?

“Let me guess where you met,” Sally said, “The First National Bar in Emigrant, right?”

Cassie nodded.

“And was the owner there? A tall creepy guy who kind of hovered around the whole time saying inappropriate things?”

“Jimmy.”

“Yes, Jimmy,” she said, and her top lip curled slightly as she said the name. “If I ever see Jimmy again for the rest of my life it’ll be too soon.”

“I didn’t like him, either,” Cassie said.

“He’s bad news. I always hated going in there, even with Rick. Those two…” She didn’t finish, but looked up suddenly at Cassie. She seemed startled at her own vehemence. “I’m sorry,” she said. “You’re dredging up some bad memories for me.”

“That’s not my intention,” Cassie said. Although it was.

“What do you want to know about Rick?”

“I’m not sure,” Cassie said. “I guess I want to know what kind of man he is.”

A shadow passed over Sally’s face and it turned into a mask.

She said, “I’ve closed that chapter in my life and I really don’t want to open it up again. I’ve moved on, and I’m not the kind of woman who gossips about her ex-husband. I’ve got no respect for women who trash their ex-husbands as if they didn’t bear any responsibility for choosing them in the first place. I hope that’s not what you expected of me.”

“I’m not meaning to pry.” Cassie took a breath, unsure how to proceed.

“It sounded like you were.”

“No. Let’s keep this entirely professional and not personal. You were with him as he advanced in rank and moved around the state. So he must be a good highway patrolman?”

She spoke as if reciting. “Rick was a great law enforcement officer. He worked hard, put in more than his share of hours, and he didn’t cut many corners. He likes to throw his weight around a little-make sure everyone knows who’s boss-but that isn’t unusual with some state troopers. He maintained that it was part of his job. After all, those men are usually out there on the highway all alone. They don’t have partners and in a state like Montana, backup could be twenty minutes away. Asserting authority defuses situations that might become volatile.

“Believe me,” she continued, “moving around the State of Montana with him through the years, I met a lot of highway patrolmen. I guess what I’m telling you without saying it very well is his job comes first.”