Firestorm

"Call me if you need me." ended the discussion.

*****

Marshall Mark Stephens stood staring at his prisoner, wondering why Perrison had the nerve to address him with such familiarity. Emboldened by the Marshall's silence, Perrison pressed on.

"Mark, now that those two are gone, don't you think there's an opportunity for you and me to make some kind of arrangement to our mutual benefit?"

Stephens gave the impression he was willing to listen. "What did you have in mind, Colonel?"

Perrison was pleased the Marshall addressed him by his rank. "Well, if Alex is no longer 'breathing' as that bitch detective put it, Clayton Industries and I will need a new security chief. Alex made a little over a hundred-fifty thousand a year. I heard about your divorce; you could probably use an increase from what you make in this dip-shit one-horse town."

"I won't kill people." Stephens replied.

Perrison smiled. "You wouldn't have to kill anyone. Alex did that as an independent contractor, not as an employee of Clayton."

"What would I have to do?"

Perrison's smile widened, the bait had been presented, now to set the hook. "First off, take these cuffs off, then help me defend myself against these ridiculous charges. I'm not saying I haven't cut a few deals here in the County to get my project off the ground, but if anyone thinks I had something to do with having the Harris boy killed -- why, that's outrageous slander. Todd was my daughter's boyfriend; I couldn't do anything to break my baby's heart. Alex must have made it all up to cover for his own carelessness in whatever accident caused the poor boy's death. My daughter will be heartbroken."

Stephens was silent, giving Perrison the impression he was considering his offer. "It seems like I'm taking a big chance, risking my pension and maybe prison just to double my current salary."

Perrison thought it's time to change bait. "What if I sweetened the pot? Let's say you get a signing bonus of a year's salary up front and a base pay of two-hundred grand a year."

"I won't perjure myself in court."

"And you won't have to. If you write this up right, my attorneys will make certain no charges will ever be filed."

Marshall Stephens took his cell phone out of his breast pocket to make certain it was still recording. Which it was. He kept Perrison talking, asking questions about the security position -- how much foreign travel, whether there was back-up -- until he heard a car pull up into the drive. There was a knock on the front door and Stephens yelled, "Come on in".

Two men walked into the house. Stephens was only expecting Dave Phillips, his old partner. Samuel Johnson was with him. Dave didn't give Mark a chance to ask.

"When you told me what you're dealing with out here I thought 'more is merrier' and safer. I asked Sam to join me and he was happy to oblige."

Stephens knew Sam, Dave's neighbor and a fellow officer from the Tukwila P.D. He shook Sam's hand. "Glad to have you, thanks."

Turning to address Dave. "You're just in time. I was tired of listening to this asshole's line of bullshit. He's been offering me a bribe to let him go free."

Both Dave and Sam broke up laughing when they heard this; anyone in law enforcement on the Westside knew Mark as a straight-shooter.

Perrison interrupted the hilarity. "I did no such thing! There was no bribe!"

Stephens pulled the phone out of his breast pocket. "We'll let a jury decide."

"I'm taking this scum bag to the County jail. Dave, I need you to secure this place until the State Police show up. Sam, there's a cabin nearby that needs securing. I'll drive you over there. I told the State guys we needed enough bodies to go through both places. They're supposed to bring search warrants and a bomb squad tech. There's at least one IED in need of disposal."

Chapter Eighteen

When two State Detectives arrived at the County lockup, James Perrison made a big stink claiming he was assaulted by Karen Roland. The detectives replied that his complaint was a town matter, not in their jurisdiction, and that he could take the matter up with the Wolford Marshall the next time Perrison was in town. Neither detective seemed upset by Perrison's continuous complaints as they loaded him into their SUV and headed to the State lockup in Spokane.

It took a full day before two carloads of State agents with search warrants and found enough evidence to keep Perrison locked up for at least twenty years solely on State charges. Due to the charge of conspiracy to commit multiple counts of murder and evidence he had offshore resources, Perrison was denied bail and never saw the outside of a prison when he died fifteen years later of a heart attack. Of course, the Feds tried to grab Perrison for all the Federal crimes he committed, but the State held fast, thanks to Marshall Stephens influential friends, and the Feds had to wait their turn. A turn which never came when Perrison died at Monroe State Prison.

A number of officials, individuals and groups were embarrassed when the treasure trove of documents and recordings found in Perrison's home were examined. Two County Planning employees were fired and their pensions forfeited. One County judge pled guilty to lesser charges of accepting bribes. Deputy Lawson decided to take his chances with a jury of his 'peers', given his lifelong County residency. The jury came back with a verdict of 'guilty' on all counts and Lawson spent three years in prison.

The Mitalkwi River Citizen Council barely survived the embarrassment when the recordings of the meetings held at the Perrison home were released by an unknown person. The MRCC president was heard saying "we need to get as many of these uneducated Neanderthals out of the valley as soon as we can. They don't think like us, vote like us or even smell like us! Hell, one of their spawn had the tenacity to ask my daughter out on a date. She said, 'yes' until I put my foot down and threatened to take her car away."

A second voice agreed. "We'll set up a bus line to shuttle them in and out because we'll still need them for maids, waitstaff and such. Hell, that's what they do in Aspen!"

That was only one of many meetings when the group of elites expressed their disdain for the working-class residents of "our valley". The noise died down when all the MRCC officers resigned, but contributions nearly dried up for the next decade.

Chapter Nineteen

April Coons, now Price, knocked on the door of the well-maintained double-wide trailer just on the outskirts of Fairbanks. April wondered how a trailer stood up to the harsh Alaska winters. She was pleased when a middle-aged woman answered the door. The woman's dress and overall appearance reminded April that much of Alaska was still a frontier.

"Mrs. Janice Haines?"

"Yes?" Mrs. Haines answered as she looked at the woman with suspicion. They didn't get many visitors out here. She wasn't too worried, she was holding Duke's collar; Duke being the big half German Shepard, half wolf that was very protective of Janice and the children.

"Mrs. Haines, my name is April Price. I'm a private investigator and I've been hired to find individuals who may have had a prior confrontation with a man by the name of Alexander Crawford."

At the mention of Crawford's name, the woman's facial expression went from curious/neutral to hostile/alarmed. April saw the change and immediately tried to calm her.

"Alexander Crawford is dead."

"How did he die?"

"Can I come in? It's cold out here." April had flown in from Seattle, where with Spring weather everything was in bloom; Fairbanks was still at least a month from Spring and April wasn't dressed for the weather.

Janice held Duke and waved April into the front room. The inside was just as well maintained as the outside.

"Can I get you a cup of coffee?" Janice asked.

April was pleased with the offer. "Yes, black, thanks."

April stood at the counter while Janice poured the coffee. Duke settled himself on the carpet next to a Lazy Boy recliner.

"He was shot and killed by a female private investigator in Washington State."

"Good!"

April pulled the locket out of her coat pocket. "Is this yours?" She held it out to the woman, who took it and started to tear up as she gazed at it.

"It was a gift from my husband when I left for basic training. We were dating and he wanted me to know he'd be waiting for me when I decided to accept his marriage proposal. How did you get it?"

"Let's sit down and talk." April suggested.

They sat in the living room, April on the sofa, Janice in a rocker, the coffee table between them where they set their cups on the coasters the Haines twins had made in Brownie camp art class. April explained how Crawford kept a trophy bag and April had spent the last seven months returning the pieces to their owners.

*****

April didn't go into details. She didn't tell Janice Haines that she was one of two 'lucky ones'. April started her quest within a week of Crawford's death, after she flew home to New York and married Hank Price. April and Hank spent four days honeymooning in the Bahamas, then she got busy.

Each of the thirteen pieces had a small tag attached, the tags had a series of stick figures, obviously some kind of code. It was Singh who decrypted the code. It seems Singh became a big fan of the Sherlock Holmes stories after hearing from Hank how Karin Roland solved what they were now humorously calling 'The Case of Red Headed Waitress'. When Singh saw the stick figures, he immediately recalled Sir A. C. Doyle's 'The Adventure of the Dancing Men'.

Using the story as a guide, which decodes nineteen of the twenty-six letters of the alphabet, Singh spent two hours decoding Crawford's labels. But after two hours, none of the labels made any sense. With Hank and April looking over his shoulder, Singh sat back and studied the gibberish. Suddenly he sat up.

"It's a code inside the code!" He went to work on each line. "He wasn't too bright, but he was bright enough to know if he read the story, others may have as well. So, he shifted each letter over three spaces. 'A' becomes 'D', 'B' becomes 'E', etc."

"What about the seven letters that don't appear in the story?" Hank asked.

"That's where he got clever. If one of those six was to be used, he substituted a stick figure that had no meaning, just to throw someone off."

April and Hank looked up from where Singh was decoding and rolled their eyes at each other. It wasn't the first time they were stunned by Singh's intelligence. They considered themselves lucky Singh enjoyed the excitement of working for a detective agency, he could easily make two or three times his salary working at Amazon or Google.

Singh interrupted their silent dialog. "The other thing he did was substitute letters for numbers, but he did this without the shift. See here, these two letters, 'G'/'V', represent August of 2022. The label reads 'MG, Wolford, 8/22.'"

April interrupted. "Mona Gomez, she went missing in August. This necklace must be her cross." Within an hour April had talked to Ms. Gomez's family and confirmed Mona always wore the cross she received from her father to celebrate her high school graduation. The next day April FedEx'd the cross to Mona's sister with her condolences. The family was already aware Mona was dead, what remained of her body having been recovered from the ravine, but they were happy to have the necklace back. It would drape the urn that held Mona's ashes.

Singh finished decoding the labels, he and April began their research. Hank gave his new bride a kiss and squeezed Singh's shoulder. "I have to get back to other assignments. I'll leave you two alone, but Singh -- you need to limit your time on this and stay with what you have on your task list. We can't fall behind."

"Right, boss." Singh was already searching the National 'Missing Persons' data base. Both Singh and April were stunned at the incredible number of missing persons.

"Let's cross reference this list with the list of Crawford's duty stations while he was in the Army. That should cut it down considerably."

That was seven months ago. Since that day April was able to identify ten of the thirteen pieces from Crawford's trophy case. Two of the remaining three were most likely Iraqi women and would never be identified. The thirteenth could not be correlated to any of the towns where Crawford was stationed and neither April nor Singh could guess the location given the nature of Crawford's code. Too many of the letters in the location's name were among the seven they were unable to decode.

April was trying to be satisfied with the ten she had identified. Four were 'Jane Does' who had long ago been buried in unmarked graves. Four were missing persons, now assumed dead given Crawford's proclivity for violence. One was a woman in Pinehurst, still alive, but still carrying the scars from the violent rape by an unknown assailant. Only alive because two drunks stumbled onto the scene and started cheering when they thought they caught two lovers being indiscrete.

*****

The last 'trophy' was the locket belonging to Janice Haines. As April sat on that sofa and looked around the room, she hoped she was doing the right thing. It could be Mrs. Haines had put the entire incident in the past, April assumed Haines was a rape victim like the woman in Pinehurst. The room was tidy, there were family photos on the wall, April couldn't help but feel the love in this room. Thank goodness when this is over; April was tired of the travel, she was five months pregnant and Hank has been demanding she come home and rest.

"I spent three years as an MP." April said it to break the ice.

Janice wasn't stupid. "I wasn't raped. I know what you're thinking."

April wanted to deny it, but kept her mouth closed.

Janice continued, telling April about that early morning one Christmas over twelve years ago.

"I found out I couldn't take another person' life, even to save my own. I would be a danger to whomever partnered up with me. I put in my papers and returned to civilian life. I was a lucky one, my husband Trace wanted me home full time. The twins were five and Trace junior was two. I've been a homemaker ever since."

April spoke for the first time, never interrupting Janice while she related how Crawford had approached and disarmed her before molesting her and taking the locket. "Crawford pulled the same stunt on Karin Roland -- big mistake."

"Who is this Karin Roland? Do you know her so you can tell her thanks from me?"

April laughed and gave Janice the Readers' Digest abridged version of how April knew Karin and a little about Karin's background in law enforcement.

Janice shook her head. "That's one tough broad."

April agreed. "She is, but you couldn't find a better friend."

Epilogue

Bill and Karin sat on the Adirondack chairs on the same motel porch April and Karin had occupied nine months ago. Bill was drinking a locally brewed IPA, Karin had a glass of red wine from the local winery. Karin spent the previous day in court giving testimony against James Perrison in Superior Court. They decided to take a few days off and spent today's midday on a hike along the Mitalkwi River.

Bill spent the hike in awe of the valley's physical beauty and now, sitting back in the chair with an ale, told his wife what was on his mind all day. "I can see what Anthony loves about the woods."

Karin agreed. "Funny how a kid who grew up in the biggest city in the States can transition to a place with more trees than people."

"I could see spending more time up here. Especially with Anthony and Lisa moving up here for the summer."

Karin looked at the wine in her glass. "Well, it does help that this small town has a brewery, a winery and a couple of decent restaurants. Yeah, I can see us spending a few weekends here this summer."

They sat for a while without talking.

Still staring out at the mountain across the river, Bill asked. "Were you surprised Lisa is transferring to Eastern from Stanford in the fall?"

"Nothing that young lady does surprises me anymore. She knows what she wants and does what's needed to get it."

"You mean how she wants Anthony?" Bill needed to know how Karin felt about those two committing themselves so young. "They're not even old enough to buy a beer, but both ready to commit a lifetime to each other."

Karin sat up, turning to face Bill. "I love her and couldn't imagine a finer daughter-in-law."

"Anthony asked me last week if we'd object to them getting married. I guess I have your answer."

"And you agree?" Karin was still facing Bill, looking into his eyes.

"Yes, darling." Bill understood the secret to a long, happy marriage.

Karin laughed, twenty years with this man, she knew his secret. "Lots of changes for our young son. Moving from New York to Portland, then to the small towns of La Grande for school and Wolford for work, now marriage." Bill heard the sigh leave her lips.

Bill looks up in the sky and across the valley as the sunset lights the hillside. "That's the thing that amazes me. Humans have the capacity to adapt to such diverse situations, climates, environments. "What a piece of work is man, how noble in reason," Shakespeare wrote.

"Then there are men like Crawford and Perrison who only bring evil and heartache to such a beautiful place."

THE END