The River Waits for Murder

by C. Ruth Daly

  The shake thrown to the side, Freddy grabbed the wheel with both hands and swerved to the right where there was an opening between the cars. He maneuvered the vehicle up the grassy embankment and skirted around the approaching cop car. The female officer, now out of the squad car, readied her weapon. Freddy floored the vehicle and tried to get off the grass, but the left rear tire hit a sharp rock and pop. It quickly deflated. Defeated, and in a desperate attempt for freedom, he bolted out of the driver’s door and scrambled up the hill toward the freeway. Over his shoulder he fired a round at any officer below. One shot was fired from the officer now out of his car and near the underpass. The second officer, her weapon aimed at the assailant, fired, hitting him in the upper thigh. As Freddy reached for the guardrail, the fire broke through his leg yet his hand made contact with the top of the rail, he desperately pulled himself up and, striking his head against the steel railing, blood poured down into his eyes. With all his strength and despite his blinded vision and wounded limb, Freddy heaved himself over the guardrail, the pistol snug in his right hand was first over the barrier. He didn’t see the officer parked on the side of the interstate. One last shot at the escapee and Freddy collapsed into a billowing pool of blood.

  Chapter Thirty

  The boys and old Ralph the mutt were asleep on the living room floor when Glynda and Evan returned home, while Rodney was sacked out in his room in the upstairs apartment. Donna drove the truck back to her mother’s and parked it in the alley behind the garage just in case Freddy came looking for it. She wanted to sleep for a few hours before meeting back at Glynda’s to discuss the past days’ events and plan what to do next with the gold and Thelma’s cardboard box. The three of them came to the conclusion the gold had caused too much grief. Trevor’s desire to develop the land would not have come to fruition without it—and of course it wouldn’t have happened either without the investors’ contributions. Donna wondered how Tonya and Eric Lamar and the other investor, Douglas Newborn, were handling the red figures Trevor was generating. She was uncertain about how much money they invested since Trevor never mentioned it and she never asked.

  Carol was sitting at the kitchen table with the ancient transistor radio against her ear, listening to the news—just like she always did in the midmorning, a folded over crossword puzzle book rested before her. Donna walked through the kitchen door and headed to the percolator on the counter and grabbed a cup to fill it with the dark, steaming coffee that was ever present.

  Her mother motioned to her when she turned around, “What is it, Mom?”

  “Listen,” she said, holding the transistor to her daughter’s ear. “Can you believe it? Another shooting at the river and the man’s hospitalized in Hamilton City. My Lord, listen to this.”

  Donna strained to hear the news over her mother’s voice. Through the static she heard, Freddy Carson was in police custody after a shoot-out outside of Indianapolis. The suspect was in a stolen vehicle belonging to a gunshot victim who was discovered on the Tippecanoe last night. No mention of the son of Thelma Carson, Donna noted. “Freddy Carson, Mom?” Donna feigned innocence when hearing the name, not wishing to disclose to Carol that she knew the relationship between the victim and the perpetrator —and she was the one who found the gunshot victim. Donna silently wondered what happened in Thelma’s gene pool that caused the creation of two killers. What are the odds?

  “My Lord, Donna,” her mom clicked her tongue and shook her head, “Can you believe it? I swear. Who is this fella and he has the same name as Thelma? Good Lord.”

  “Hmm…probably a coincidence or maybe some relative. Don’t know, Mom. Too bad Mrs. Randall isn’t alive. She could probably tell us.” Donna gazed through the kitchen window to the apartment across the alley where her mother’s friend and neighbor had once resided but now for over ten years, her mother was alone, left muttering to herself when news came across the waves—without anyone to converse with, except her dutiful daughter Irish, who now filled the gap created by the deaths of Carol’s husband and her deceased neighbor. “I’m going back to Glynda’s in a few hours, Mom.” Then diverting the conversation away from a subject Donna knew too much about… “Lori Bell’s improving, Mom. Isn’t that good news? Trevor came back from Illinois and is at the resort. Mrs. Jameson is with Lori at the hospital.” She sat down at the opposite end from her mother, in her father’s former seat and gently sipped the steaming beverage. Donna realized she was famished after her night in the woods and on the river and asked, “Mind if I make some eggs, Mom?”

  Around the corner at the Myer residence, Glynda and Evan sat at the kitchen table, both sipped coffee and Evan with a cigarette in hand ready to head to the porch for a smoke. He was the first to speak, “Glynda, what’re you goin’ ta do with the Carson place? Ain’t this place yours or is ‘it your grandma’s?”

  “Haven’t really thought about it much, Evan. There’s been so much going’ on that I sure haven’t had time to even think—or sleep. Glad the boys are asleep in the living room ‘cause I sure don’t have the energy to deal with them. This place is my grandma’s, but she said I can live here as long as needed. She’s with my mom, ya know. It would be nice to have a place of my own and somewhere the boys could run and Rodney, too. I seem to be his caretaker now. He’s a good boy, but he’s always goin’ to be with me. What about you, Evan? You need to get your own place. You’ve lived in that trailer and with Donna for three years. Now you’re here. What’s next for you?” Glynda asked, hoping Evan would say he’d stay in Burgenton.

  “When I was in that desert—ya know I slept outside most times. It was beautiful, Glynda, but I sure did miss home. This is home. I want ‘a stay in Burgenton. I think about cashin’ in that gold and buyin’ a place, but hell, now I see alls the bad its caused and I think Donna’s right to jist lock it up and stay away from it. Trevor’s the only one—and Lori Bell, too, to cash it in and look at ‘em. It’s come ta’ not good. I tell ya’, there’s somethin’ evil in that gold. I wished we’d never even tried to git it. Well, what’s done is done.” Evan stared thoughtfully at the floor.

  “Evan,” Glynda reached across the table and touched his arm, “Evan, that place of Thelma’s is big enough for all of us. Why’dn’t you come and live with us this time? It can be our home, Evan.” Her eyes met his and the two of them understood. Evan had a permanent place to call home.

  They reached for the other’s hand and Glynda in front of Evan, slowly walked into the living room to join the boys. There was room at the end of the couch and they sat down, rested their heads on the back and slept for a couple hours until there was a knock at the back door.

  “Hey, guys,” Donna poked her head around the corner, “Guys, are you awake?”

  Evan snorted and thrust his head forward, “Donna, I’m up. Glynda.” He nudged her side, “Glynda, Donna’s here.”

  “Huh? Hi Donna, let’s get to the kitchen so we don’t wake the boys. Let ‘em sleep.”

  The three of them sat down and Donna began, “We have to take Thelma’s box to the police. My sister knows of a lawyer in town—he works for them, and I think it’s best if we take it to him. I told Trevor we put something in his safe so let’s hope he stays away from it. He has to be incredibly busy with saving the reputation of the resort and dealing with the crimes on the river—I’m sure he has not looked at it, but I do think it’s best if we go out and get it sooner than later. If you don’t want to go, I will.”

  Evan looked over at Glynda, “Yeah, Donna, you’re right.

  “Evan, do you want to go with her while I rest before headin’ to work?”

  “Sure, Glynda.” He reached over and patted her hand, “I’ll let ya’ know when I git back.”

  They climbed into the cab of the truck and Donna put it in first, then headed south through town where church goers strolled along the sidewalks towards the Presbyterian and Christian churches. The railroad tracks were soon beneath the tires and the vehicle maneuvered to the southwest toward the river r
esort. It was already a hot day and the air was unusually dry. Bad for the farmers, Donna considered. Lori Bell’s brick homestead was locked up tight, Donna noted as they drove by. Evan’s head rested on his chest and he weaved back-and-forth. Donna smiled and continued along the road toward the resort.

  The wrought iron gates of the resort were wide open and Donna pulled to the side of the road to let the exiting vehicles pass. It was Armageddon. Guests were hurriedly packing their cars while those who had already checked out and packed, were eager to get through the gates and out of Morrelli River Resorts and to the safety of their homes. Police tape covered the path to the river and a few county sheriff cars were on the premises. Donna caught site of the local TV news van from Hamilton City. It was Sunday. The day guests were supposed to enjoy their last canoe trip on the Tippecanoe and partake in the fine meals prepared for the final day. Instead, they were quickly evacuating a crime scene and providing testimonials to the news team. The man in the socks and sandals, who quizzically questioned them the night before stood in front of a reporter. The microphone at this mouth while the reporter’s head nodded with his every word.

  “Trevor’s not liking this at all, Evan. Can you believe it? He is already in the whole and I bet he has to refund a day’s reservation to each guest. I can imagine how much he’s losing on the dinner. That does not come cheap.”

  “Well, let’s be gettin’ past these folks and see how’s he’s doin’.”

  They inched past the evacuees and pulled up in front of the office. Trevor was inside with two sheriffs and trying to check out guests at the same time. Donna worried about the safe and if he’d opened it by now, and he had. The cardboard box sat on the floor by the trashcan. Crap, she thought as she saw the law enforcement officers standing in the middle of his office. What if they decide to take it? It hardly appeared to be of value and she considered that Trevor probably wondered what guest needed to secure such a valuable in his safe. Trevor skirted past them with a brief greeting and without making eye contact, hurried over to the safe and put the box back inside, spun the tumblers and then directed his attention to the law. The officers’ backs were to them and Donna could only catch glimpses of Trevor’s face.

  “Let’s sit down and wait, Evan,” Donna motioned to the cushioned chairs in the foyer. The two sat for nearly forty minutes, watching the sheriffs leave and guests check out but not before they berated Trevor for the lack of security and placing them in harm’s way. “…and I’m an influential person in my community, and believe me, I will tell everyone I know not to stay at Morrelli River Resorts,” one red-faced patron screamed at Trevor, who stood there with either stoicism—or downtrodden weariness; he was a defeated man, and Donna took pity on him. “What is going to happen to this place, Evan?”

  He shook his head, “Dun no, Donna. Sure don’t look good for Trevor.”

  When the chaos had subsided, and Trevor retreated to his office, not even taking note of his friends’ presence, Donna moved over to the desk and checked out the guestbook. The professor and Rhonda were still here; whereas most of the other guests had checked out. Knowing the professor, Donna realized his frugality would not permit him to pay for a hotel for a night when he had already paid for the one here.

  As she passed the office door, Donna heard Trevor on the phone. She stopped to listen and caught the name, Tonya. Pretending to stop to tie her shoe, Donna strained to hear the conversation, but Trevor caught sight of his friend and with phone in hand, walked over to the door, shook his head at Donna and closed it.

  Evan lounged on the sofa in the front office while Donna plopped down beside him. “Damn it. Trevor’s on the phone with that Tonya. I wonder what’s going on. Hey, Evan, he did put the box back in the safe—and right in front of the sheriffs. Can you believe it? Do you think he’s looked inside the box?”

  With his arms crossed behind his resting head, Evan responded, “Donna. Dun no. Stop thinkin’—just stop. I sure am tired. We’ve had some crazy days here and let’s just be glad that box is back in the safe. Now how’s we goin’ to git it, huh? Surely Trevor’s changed the combination. He ain’t no dummy.”

  Evan was right again. “Yes, I know,” Donna begrudgingly admitted, “I’ll—I’ll just ask him for it. I’ll just—“

  The door burst open and in came Debbie. Trevor’s activities director was hot and shaking with rage. “Where’s Trevor?” she demanded.

  Donna quickly stood up, “Trevor? He’s in his office but he’s,” her voice drifted off as Debbie shoved open the office door, then abruptly slammed it behind her, “…he’s on the phone,” Donna quietly finished, then moved to the office door to hear what was transpiring on the other side. She didn’t need to get too close to hear the rants from Debbie, “What do you mean I lost my job? You can’t fire me! Don’t forget who I am, Trevor Morrelli!” There was a crash and then Debbie came back out the way she entered—throwing open the door and almost knocking Donna off her feet.

  The tirade caused Evan to move from his reclining position and to Donna’s side, “Shit. We’s better see if Trevor’s okay.”

  Trevor sat at his desk. His head cradled in his hands as his palms pushed upward into his eye sockets. It was more than he could bear, Donna thought. “Trevor, are you all right?” she asked as the man did not move from his position.

  He raised his head to reveal red eyes. Dark circles curved beneath them. His pallor was ashen and he appeared thinner than he had before he left for Lori Bell’s side.

  “Yeah, I’m—fine. Shit. What a mess. What a big fuckin’ mess.” He shook his head violently as if to awaken from some nightmarish dream.

  “What’s going on, Trevor?” Donna asked.

  This place is not solvent. Not at all, Donna. I’m gonna’ lose it. All of it. And I have to pay back the investors. That was Tonya on the phone. She’s pissed. Hell, they have money invested all over the place. I don’t know why she’s threatening me. Shit. What a mess.”

  “What happened with Debbie, Trevor?” Donna wanted to know.

  “Debbie? Oh, her.” Trevor got up and picked up his framed engagement photo. The object had struck the wall and the glass shattered on the floor. The picture was damaged and covered with white marks from the spent glass.

  “Debbie’s fired. I can’t afford to keep her. Guess she has a temper. You know she’s Tonya’s cousin. Never would have guessed, huh? Fire and fire not fire and ice—like me and Lori.” He scraped off the shards, gently lifted the photo and smiled lovingly at what was left of the two handsome faces smiling back at him. “She’s going to be okay. I heard from her mom today. She’s going to make it, guys.” He brushed away the tears now flowing gently from his eyes.

  Donna and Evan stood in silence, smiling to reassure their friend, and wondering how Trevor and Lori would recover from bankruptcy. Donna broke the silence, “Trevor, I put something in your safe. Is it okay if I get it?”

  He stared at her and smiled, “Sure, Donna.”

  Trevor moved to the safe and spun the dial, then picked up the box. “I knew this had to be yours. I don’t peek inside anything that’s in the safe, Donna, but I knew whatever was in this box had to be special to you. Here. Take it.”

  She did, then, “Trevor, how can we help you? Is there anything we can do at all?”

  He shook his head. “No. I wish you had been here to tell me not to do this. What was I thinking? I should just leave well enough alone. I thought I could make millions. Boy, was I wrong. And now look at what’s happened. This place is a multiple crime scene. You know that Dan Green is dead and his murderer is hanging by a thread in the hospital?”

  Donna was stunned and blinked back tears. Despite the altercations she had had with Mr. Green, she had developed a kinship for him—one that she certainly had not shared with anyone.

  “That’s a shame. Rest his soul,” Evan remarked, “Donna was the one ta’ find him on the river, Evan. She is a hero, still.” He patted her back. “You’s okay, right, Donna?”


  She sniffled, “I’m fine, Evan. Thanks. It’s just that I’ve run into too much death on this river. Poor Dan Green. You knew him better than I did, Evan. I only had coffee with him once. But you befriended him on the way here.”

  “Trevor, do ya’ want us to stay here with ya’? Huh?” Evan leaned forward and asked.

  He shook his head, “No. Thanks guys, go ahead and go. I’ll give you a call later.

  As the two left the office and walked into the waiting sunshine, Donna caught sight of Steven and Rhonda strolling up the path. Lucero had a slight limp while Rhonda walked slightly ahead.

  “Wait a sec, Evan,” and she watched as the pair walked up to the office.

  The professor was first to speak, “Hello, Donna. We will be leaving tonight and staying at a hotel in Indianapolis. I can’t wait to get back to Arizona.”

  Donna guessed they had not heard the news. “I’m sorry, but Dan Stanley Green passed away.” She waited for the reaction and there was none.

  “We know, Donna. We were his contacts here. We’ve spent the morning contacting his family. You see, Dan worked for Rhonda. Rhonda, do you want to tell them why?” He turned to her. “There’s no point, now Rhonda. You may as well tell them.”

  Rhonda sighed, and with some hesitation related the story from her childhood and her connection to Rita Brennan. “I guess Steven’s right. This was just a little girl’s dream. Tell, me, Donna, was there any truth to it? Was there a cache of Confederate gold?”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  They drove in silence for a few miles until they reached the Jameson homestead.

  “Do ya’ think Rhonda believed the money’s all tied up in the resort, Donna?”

  She felt drained. The weight of the summer and its tragedies had caught up with her. “I don’t know, Evan. Frankly, I don’t care. At this point, I don’t care. I’m sorry Dan Green was murdered. I’m sorry Thelma was murdered. I’m sorry the county assessor was murdered. I’m sorry Lori Bell was in a near-death accident—I’m so glad she’s going to make it, Evan.” Donna sniffled through her tears. “I’m so glad. I’m happy for you and Glynda, Evan. I’m happy you’ve found a place. I hope Trevor and Lori can make it. This has been a hell of a summer, don’t you agree?” She smiled through her tears. Her face was wan and her frizzy hair hung down with straggles of strands sticking up here and there.