Deadly Waters Pt. 06

"What do you think?" Randy asked, looking at Martha.

"I think I like it better than that ratty thing you normally wear."

"You ready to go?" Sean asked, and then looked at Martha. "I'll have him back as soon as I can, safe and sound."

"Give your mom a kiss," Martha said, presenting her cheek.

"Mom!" Randy groaned, but gave her a kiss on the cheek before opening the door and bounding out.

"Go ahead and get in," Sean suggested as he approached.

"Can we turn on the siren before we're done?" Randy asked as Sean settled into the car.

"I'm the chief of police. I can do anything," Sean replied with a grin. It was refreshing to find a kid who actually thought the police were cool. "Which way?" Sean asked as he began backing down the driveway.

"Right."

Randy's family lived a bit outside of Brunswick on one of the county roads. After backing into the road, Sean hit the strobes and siren and then floored the car to roar away from Randy's house. When they reached about eighty, he lifted off the throttle, allowed the cruiser to gradually slow, and then switched off the lights and siren as he glanced at Randy.

"Okay, that was slightly cool," Randy said, grinning ear to ear.

"Turn down this road," Randy said as he pointed out of his window.

Sean had taken Randy to the location where Maggie said they sampled and explained how he wanted to stay upriver from there.

The first two places Randy had taken Sean weren't what he was looking for. The first was the public launch ramp where the county sheriff found Boyd's truck, the second a park. Sean explained how he was looking for something a little less public, and as his car jittered down a gravel road, this looked more promising.

"Slow down," Randy said. "Turn here."

"There's a gate," Sean pointed out as he made the turn and then rolled to a stop.

"Hang on," Randy replied, stepping out of the car. He opened the gate, and after Sean drove through, closed it behind them. "It's never locked," Randy said as he flopped back into the car.

"You come down here often?" Sean asked as Randy buckled up again.

Randy shrugged. "Straight ahead. No, not really. Dad and I sometimes do, but we never catch much. Not sure why 'cause it looks like a good place to catch crappie." They eased along the track until Randy indicated out his window again, pointing at two narrow ruts. "See that trail? It leads to the river."

"Can I get down there in the car?"

"Should be able to."

Sean turned and followed the path, the tall grass between the tracks hissing as the car pushed through it. After a mile or so, the river came into view. "This is more like what I'm looking for," he said as he eased to a stop. "Let's get out and take a look."

They stepped out of the car and approached the riverbank on foot. They were standing in a bend of the river, with a steep bank down to the water's edge. Sean looked around. It was certainly isolated enough, but the distance from the bank to the water was a problem. If Steve was dumping here he would need a lot of hose to reach the water from his truck.

"You and your dad come here to fish?"

"Sometimes. We sit on those logs down there. Like I said, it looks like a good place for crappie but we never catch much here."

Sean grinned. "You like to fish?" he asked, his tone making it a statement.

"Love it! Catch a stringer of fish and take them home. Dad and I clean them and then Mom fries them up."

"You fish much by yourself?"

"When I can. We're only about five miles from the river at home. I have a spot I can ride my bike to."

"Can a car get in there?"

"A car? No. Maybe a four by four could, but you'd still have to walk a ways because of all the trees. I've been going there so long I've got a path worn that I can ride all the way to the river."

"Ever catch anything?" Sean asked as he turned back toward the car.

"Usually."

"How do you get them home?"

"Dad built me this rig on the back of my bike. It will hold my pole, tackle box, and a half dozen or so fish."

"Clever."

"Yeah. Heavy though. Makes the bike hard to ride. I'll be glad when I get my driver's license so I can start driving."

"Know any more places kind of like this one?"

"Two more."

"Perfect, and then we'll stop for lunch." Sean started the car and after turning around, they bumped and jiggled back to the main road. "Now which way?"

"Right again."

They rode along, talking about fishing. Sean had never been particularly interested in hunting or fishing, but Randy's enthusiasm for it was infectious.

"See the tree line up yonder? Slow down when we get there." A moment later, Sean was slowing. "Turn there, into that gap in the trees," Randy said, pointing up ahead as they passed by the edge of the stand of trees.

"I'm not sure I can cross the ditch."

"It's not that deep. I think you can make it."

Sean shrugged. The worst that could happen is he'd get stuck and have to call for a tow. He eased the car off the road and down into the ditch. The car scraped, and he had to back up and get a bit of a run to make it over a hump, but he made it without too much drama.

"Stay on this," Randy said as the car banged and knocked along the rough track leading deeper into the trees. After a few hundred yards, the path hooked sharply left, and then opened into a small clearing in the trees with the river just beyond.

"How in the world did you ever find this place?" Sean asked.

Randy shrugged. "Dad grew up around here. He knows every fishing hole in the whole county."

Sean turned the car around and parked. They stepped out and he looked around. This was a perfect location for illegal dumping. The water was right there, and with the trees all around, it was impossible to be seen until you were almost on top of the clearing. If he were dumping into the river, this would be the spot he'd pick.

"What are you looking for?" Randy asked.

"Just looking at the tracks," Sean said. It was clear a number of vehicles had come and gone in this area, but he couldn't tell if any of them was a large truck. The ground felt pretty soft to him, and while he was no expert, he expected a thirty-five-thousand-pound truck would leave deeper ruts than he was seeing.

"This is exactly the kind of spot I'm looking for. Is the other one like this?"

"Yeah, but not as many trees around," Randy replied.

"Okay. Is that the last one?"

"It is unless you want to go below where we started."

"No. I need to be upstream of there."

"It's the last one I know about, then."

"Okay, let's go."

It took three tries, and a lot of wheel spin, before Sean was able to batter his cruiser up onto the road. Monday he'd have to take the car to the city garage and have them check it underneath for damage. At the very least, it was going to need an alignment. "I don't think I'll do that again," Sean grinned as the car finally struggled out onto the road.

"Yeah. Dad and I go in and out of there in his truck with no problem. I didn't realize how low your car was."

It took twenty minutes of back tracking before Randy pointed him down a rutted path along the edge of a field. "What do they grow here?" Sean asked as the car bounced and banged along.

"Tobacco. That's the stalks you see sticking up. Turn here."

Sean turned and bumped along an even less traveled track, looping around an outcropping of trees, before stopping in a grassy field tucked between a finger of trees and the river. Again they stepped out of the car. Like the previous location, the water was easily accessible, but it wasn't as well hidden. He looked around. Not as well hidden, but hidden enough. You could be seen from the dirt track leading from the paved road, but not the main road itself. This was another good possibility. The ground was much harder packed here and there were no obvious tracks.

"How often do you come out here?" Sean asked.

Randy made a face and shrugged. "When Dad's home and feels like it. I can't say. Normally we take the boat fishing."

"You ever see anyone here?"

"Nah. We hardly ever see anyone fishing."

"Anywhere else?"

"None that are out in the boonies like this. Lots of places where you can stop on the side of the road and see the river. I hope you don't want to see all those."

Sean chuckled. "No, that's okay, but no more like these, kind of tucked away places nobody knows about?"

"None that I know of. I can ask Dad if he knows of any more places."

Sean pulled a business card out of his wallet. "Would you mind doing that for me? You can call me if he knows of anymore."

"Sure, I can do that. He normally calls on Sunday nights. I'll ask him then."

"Thank you. You've been a big help. Where do you want to go for lunch?"

"Uh... Chik-fil-A?"

"Sounds good to me."

Randy grinned. "Great! I'm starving!"

Sean was ready to chew nails. It had been raining, off and on, for almost two weeks. Just when it would start to dry out enough for him to consider driving to the three locations Randy had shown him, it would rain again. It wasn't the getting wet, it was the getting his car to the locations. Especially the second one, the one he wanted to investigate first. As hard as it was to get in and out of there when the ground was dry, he knew he'd never make it with the ground soft and muddy. He considered going to Maggie, or the city garage, and seeing if he could borrow a four by four pickup, but decided against it. The locations were outside his jurisdiction and he didn't want to make the search official police business until he had something other than a hunch. As long as it'd been since Thacker's death, if there was anything to find, it would still be there when it stopped raining.

His phone began to ring and he picked it up. "Sean."

"Chief, there's a Linda Jellico asking to see you."

"Did she say why?"

"Something to do with Thacker's death."

He tightened his lips. Maybe she had another piece to the puzzle. "Tell her I'll be right there." When he stepped into the lobby, he recognized the woman but couldn't remember where he'd seen her. "Ms. Jellico? I'm Sean McGhee. You asked to see me?"

"Yes. I spoke with you before about Boyd's death, and you promised me he wouldn't be forgotten. It's been almost two months since his body was found and I wanted to know if you've found out who did it. Boyd was a good friend of mine, and I don't want his killer to get away with it."

"We've met before, but I can't recall where."

"I spoke to you outside the wastewater plant."

Linda still had the red streaks in her hair, but she had toned down her makeup considerably, and her clothes no longer looked like she'd been in a fight with a wildcat. He snapped his fingers and then pointed at her as his teeth flashed in a quick smile. "I remember. I can't give you any details, but the case is still active."

"So, you haven't caught the guy?"

"No, but we're still working on it." She looked at him, and he could tell she was trying to decide if he was telling the truth or not. "I assure you, Ms. Jellico, we are doing everything we can to bring Boyd Thacker's killer to justice," he tried again.

"I called up here last week and asked about the investigation. You know what they told me? 'We have no information regarding the case.' I asked to speak to you, and they said you were out. I think this is nothing but another cover up by the city, just like the spill."

He sighed to himself. "Ms. Jellico, I assure you there is no cover up. I'm working this investigation personally. The reason they didn't tell you anything about the case is because we don't comment on active cases."

"You're working the case? The chief of police? Right," she sneered, drawing the word out long. "That's so you can bury this and nobody's the wiser! I'm not going to let this die! I'm going to the news and tell them what you're doing!"

"What am I doing, Ms. Jellico?" he asked, keeping his voice flat and monotone.

"Dragging your feet! Waiting until everyone forgets about Boyd and then it quietly gets ignored! I know how this works! Well not this time!"

"You can do whatever you think is necessary, but in doing so you might compromise the investigation. If you want Boyd's killer found, you need to think about that."

"I don't--"

"Chief? Maggie Neese for you. She said it's important," Kim's voice came over the speaker.

"Tell her I'll call her back."

"I don't understand why it's taking--" Linda began again.

"She said to tell you Steve was there," Kim interrupted a second time.

Sean looked at his dispatcher through the glass and gave her a wave. "Tell her I'm on my way." He turned his attention back to Linda. "Ms. Jellico, I assure you we're still working on this. In fact, that call is about the case, and I need to go. I appreciate your concerns, but sometimes these things take time." He pulled a card from his wallet. "This has my direct line and cell on it. If you have any questions, give me a call. Now, if you'll excuse me. Kim, buzz me in. I need to get my keys."

Sean pulled through the gate of the plant and drove slowly along the road, coming to a stop beside Steve's truck. "Back again already?" he asked as he rolled the window of his cruiser down.

Steve shrugged. "What can I say."

"You've been dumping a lot of waste lately. Production must be booming."

"Not bad."

Sean stepped out of his car and casually walked over. "You must really get tired of hauling this stuff out here all the time. Especially now, having to do it every two weeks."

Steve flashed a quick grin. "Not really. It gets me out of the office for a few hours."

Sean nodded, watching the thick, whitish liquid pour down the hole and into the influent stream of the plant. "Where's all this stuff coming from?"

"What do you mean?"

"You used to come here once every six to eight weeks. Now you've been here three or four times in about the same length of time. That's why I asked if business was booming."

"We're developing a new adhesive. It works great in the lab, but when we scale up for production, something happens to it. We're not sure what or why, but the production batches are not ready for primetime yet, so it all goes to waste. We're still working on it. I hope we find the problem soon because it's costing me a fortune. What are you doing here?"

"I can't remember if I told you, but I'm having Maggie test the river. I'm back to look at the results again."

"Found anything?"

"Not yet, but that in itself may be telling."

"What are you looking for, exactly?" Steve asked.

"Trying to prove, or disprove, a theory on why Thacker was killed."

"What's your theory?"

"Just an idea I had that maybe Thacker wasn't as crazy as everyone thought he was, and he was actually onto something. He finally found what he was looking for, and it got him killed."

"What do you think he was looking for?"

"Don't know, exactly. That's why I'm having Maggie test the river. If she can find what Thacker found, it may lead us to the killer."

"But no luck so far?"

Sean twisted his lips to the side and shook his head, trying to give the impression of disappointment. "No luck yet, but I haven't given up. I'm pretty sure eventually I'll have a break in the case. It's just a matter of time."

"Well, good luck."

"Thanks. Good police work can only take you so far. After that, sometimes you need a bit of luck."

Sean watched the large diameter pipe lying on the ground a moment. The torrent was down to a trickle. "Looks like you're about empty."

"Yeah. I'll rinse the truck off and get back to the plant."

"Don't let me stop you," Sean said, but made no move to leave.

Steve paused a moment, shrugged, and then stepped to the side of the truck and opened a toolbox. The way Steve was standing, Sean had the impression he was trying to block his view inside. Steve reached in and pulled out a pair of wire cutters before closing the box again. As Sean watched, Steve cut the two zip ties wrapped around the locking handles, dropped the cutters and the severed ties into his back pocket, and then flipped the handles out. A quick jerk and the pipe came free. The truck burped out a thick white glob that splattered to the ground as the hose came away. Holding the heavy looking metal coupling by one handle, Steve gently set the end of the pipe down before walking over to the spigot. He uncoiled a length of garden hose and opened the tap before dragging it back to the truck to spray off the stopcock with a strong stream of water. He pulled a lever around to close the opening as he continued to hose the mechanism down. Once he was satisfied the valve was clean, he remove the valve handle, dropped it into a holder obviously designed to secure it, and turned his attention to the back of the truck and then the pipe laying on the ground.

"If you don't get all the glue off, everything gets stiff," Steve explained as he sprayed.

"Why doesn't it stick to the inside of your truck?"

"It does, but the tank is stainless. When I get back to the plant, I'll have a guy pressure wash the inside down with an acetone mix. It blasts the stuff right off, and then we pump it back into the holding tank and it goes out in the next load."

Finished with the truck, Steve washed down the concrete pad, chasing the glue to the hole before he released the nozzle and tossed the hose aside. He removed the handle from the valve and placed it, along with the wire cutters, back inside the truck mounted toolbox. When Steve turned his back, Sean took a step to the side so he could see around Steve's body. Before Steve could close the cabinet, Sean saw a pair of weights on a shelf inside. He only got a quick glance, but they appeared to be the same as the weights used on Thacker.

Steve began to lay the pipe onto the holder mounted on the truck. "What's the other pipe for?" Sean asked.

"It's just an extension in case one pipe won't reach."

As he watched Steve work, Sean realized he had everything he needed in front of him. The zip ties were the same color as those found binding Thacker's body. He couldn't be sure, but the weights inside the toolbox appeared to be the same, or very similar to, what was used to weight Thacker down. And lastly, the handle on the valve could certainly be used to cave someone's head in. Steve finished loading the pipe onto the truck and locking it into place, and then sprayed everything down one more time, before turning off the water and curling the garden hose back up on its stand. "That's it," Steve said as he wiped his hands dry on the back of his pants.

"I won't keep you then. Maggie is probably wondering what I'm doing out here."

Steve grinned. "Probably. I'll see you around," he said with a wave before walking to the front of the truck and climbing into the cab.

Sean watched as the big International shuddered to life, heaved itself out of the pit, and growled away, the truck barking and grunting as Steve ran it through the gears. He stood, watching, until Steve made the corner at the back of the plant. He sauntered to his car, giving Steve plenty of time to get ahead of him, and then followed the truck back to the admin building. He drove past Steve's idling truck and pulled into a parking space in front of the building. Steve was just inside the door, filling out the dump book. He stepped past, saying nothing, and turned down the hall to the lab.

"You seen Maggie?" he asked Alex.

"Is she not in her office?"

"I didn't look." He stepped out of the lab and walked down the hall. Steve was gone, so as he passed the entrance, he paused to look at the book. "See anything interesting?" Maggie asked as she stepped up beside him.