C Weaver - Silent River

Maggie’s face turned pale. Her hands shook as she wrung them in her lap. Her top teeth worried her bottom lip, and Robert waited, hoping she’d break and tell what she was hiding.

Maggie stood and walked to the door, “Are you coming?” she asked when he didn’t move. The moment was lost.

“I can’t see anything here that’s going to help me find her killer.” He stood at the door and took one more look around the room, hoping some clue would start glowing and reveal itself. Nothing happened. He followed her downstairs.

“Have you talked to Calvin?” Robert asked when they reached the first floor.

“He called me the other day and asked when we were having the sale and if I thought there’d be a lot of money from it. He’s waiting for the probate to come through to see what he gets from the estate.”

“Do you have any suspicion he might be involved in this?” Robert stood in the middle of the living room.

She didn’t speak for a moment then looked at him. “Off the record?”

“Sure.”

“I think he knows exactly who’s involved with this. He also knows how long the arm of that family might be, and he isn’t willing to take the chance it can reach him. After seeing what happened to his family, he’s keeping quiet. I doubt you’ll ever get him to say anything that will point a finger at any of his friends. Detective, I have to agree with him. If someone wanted Kelly gone and was willing to take the whole family out to keep the incident quiet forever, I’d keep quiet too.”

“Maggie, because we are off the record so to speak, has anyone approached or called you about this case?”

“Yes.” She turned as if she’d made a decision. “I got a phone call and was told if we knew anything that might help the police find the killer, we had better keep our mouths shut. I don’t know anything, and I don’t want to know anything. I don’t want to be involved in discovering who ordered this, if it’s going to cost me my family.”

“You’re probably right. On the other hand, if someone doesn’t stop this kind of thing, it will just continue to grow until the whole of Portland will be like a “Little Chicago” under mob rule.” He pulled the front door closed behind them and gave it a rattle to make sure it was locked. “I don’t want to be Eliot Ness, but someone has to stand up to them.”

Robert hung up the phone. They’ve found another body in the Columbia River. The third in three weeks. He opened his notebook and saw where he’d written the dentist’s number that Maggie had given him.

“Dr. Simms, this is Detective Robert Collins again. I need you to bring the dental records for Mr. Stevens.”

“You got another body?”

“Yeah, it seems they are popping out of the river like fart bubbles.” Robert tried to joke, but there was no returning laugh from the other end of the line. “You can ride with me if you want to.”

“Can I just give you the records and you take them to the morgue?” Mark’s tone sounded distant and evasive.

Robert held the black receiver away from his ear and looked at it. What happened to bring on this change in Mark Simms?

“No, they took him to a funeral home in Vancouver. You can leave your car here and ride with me.”

“Robert, I’ll come with you. If there are reporters there, I don’t want to be seen.”

“What is going on?” Robert’s fingers tightened on the receiver, and his brows pinched into a frown.

Mark took a deep breath, then let it all out at once. “I got a call the day after I identified Sara Stevens. A man, not identifying himself, told me if I identified any more of the Stevens family, I wouldn’t have any eyes left to identify anyone.” His voice shook slightly.

“Then I take it you won’t come.” Robert took a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

“Robert, just give me a few minutes to think about it.”

“Sure, I’ll be leaving in an hour or so. I will need those X-rays.”

“Sure.”

An hour-and-a-half later, there was no call from Mark. He figured the frightened dentist had backed out. No folder with X-rays waited for him at the front desk. He checked his Timex and headed for his cruiser and sat for a few minutes before his hand reached to turn the key. He heard a tapping on the passenger window. Mark stood there. Leaning across the bench seat, Robert pulled up the black knob to unlock the door. Mark got in, locked the door, and slumped in his seat.

“Why’d you change your mind?” Robert wondered why this scared man would take such a risk.

“Can we get out of here?” He spoke in a low tone. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this. I could end up killed for what I’m about to say.”

Robert put the car into gear and pulled out on to Alder Street, took a left over to Grand Avenue, and headed north.

“Don’t you trust me?” Robert asked bluntly.

“I’m not sure. You aren’t like the other officers I’ve talked to on this case. Anyway, I got a call after I talked to you. It was the same voice that gave me the other warning. This time he said I could identify this body.”

“Somebody told you to go and identify this body. Did he say why?”

“No, he just hung up.” Mark shrugged

“I can just bet this body is not one of the Stevens family. I didn’t get any description of the body either.” Robert frowned. The two didn’t talk much in the forty-five minutes it took the car to drive up I-5 and cross the river.

When Robert pulled around to the back of the funeral home, he didn’t see any reporters around the door.

“Looks like everyone but me got the memo this wasn’t a member of the family,” he muttered.

The two men greeted the mortician, who led them downstairs. Inside the morgue, they immediately saw the body laid on the table was not Karl Stevens. This man was young, in shabby clothing. He looked like he might have been a drug user from the marks on the arm.

Robert knew it was useless to demand an explanation from the coroner. He shook his head at the white-coated man. “Was there something about this man that matched the description of Mr. Stevens? I can see at a glance this man had no similarities. Why were the Portland police called?”

“I have no idea. I didn’t make the call; that was upstairs.” He jabbed his middle finger upward, his eyes following the action.

Robert and Mark strode outside to the car, not speaking to anyone on the way. Neither of the men talked much on the return drive to Portland.

Robert stopped next to the other man’s car.

“Don’t call me, and I won’t call you,” Mark responded as he slid out of the squad car.

One line of questioning Robert had held off on pursuing were Kelly’s friends. He stared at the single name in his notebook—Angie. These were calls he didn’t want to make. The girl’s actual name, Angela Davis had been Kelly’s best friend, everyone he talked to at their school made mention of it.

He called Angie’s mother. “Mrs. Davis, I’m Detective Collins with the Portland Police Bureau. I’m investigating the missing Stevens family, and I’ve been told Angie was Kelly’s best friend. I’m wondering if I might come and speak with Angie about her friend?” He kept his voice soft and lower as he spoke into the phone.

“I don’t know what she can tell you. I’ve asked her if she knew any reason the Stevens family might have left town without telling anyone. She said no and burst into tears. She’s pretty upset about this whole thing.”

“May I talk to her? I might have some questions she can help me answer.” Robert crossed his fingers hoping she could hear the consolatory tone in his voice.

“I guess so.” She gave Robert the time and day to come over to the home.