by Patrick Lee
Coffee blurted out of Scalf’s mouth. “How in the hell did you hear about that? The FBI left only twenty minutes ago. Do you have my office bugged?”
He tilted his head to the left as he measured the light in the room using his light meter. “My old Navy friend in Coulee called me yesterday and asked if anyone had been murdered at Hungry Horse. He filled me in on the unsolved murders.”
“You gotta keep this quiet, Al. The FBI is all over it and not in the mood for anybody butting in. You’ll get the first crack at a story once they nail it down. Right now, nobody knows nothin’ about nothin’.”
“I’ll lay low for awhile. But I might snoop around just a little bit.”
“Shit no, Al! You never just snoop a little bit. Let them do their jobs. We got secret service men and magazine people comin’ around soon in makin’ plans for Truman in early October. We can’t have some high profile murder investigation going on too.”
Sutter picked up his camera and prepared to take a photo out the front window in the direction of the Dam. Looking through the lens of his camera he said, “First crack at the story, right?”
“First crack.”
David drank the lukewarm coffee. He drank enough coffee during the night to last a lifetime. The lack of sleep and the overdose of caffeine dulled his thoughts and emotions. He just wanted to get it over with and get to bed. The shift hours for the past two months were now rewritten in his financial record book. The five fictitious employees and their hours worked were now erased in the fire in the garbage can outside of his trailer. Now he had only one more bit of work to do. He waited outside of the office of the bookkeeper, Fred Winters.
The thin man with the rounded eyeglasses quietly shut the door to his 1949 Ford Sedan. Everything about his car was perfect. Just like his suit. Just like his bookwork. Just like everything about him and his life. This wasn’t going to be an easy task David thought. Fred Winters spoke to David as he placed the silver skeleton key into the worn door latch to his office. “What brings you here so early, Dave?”
David struggled to gain some clarity in his thoughts and a bit of motivation to even answer Winters, “I need to temporarily borrow the timecards from the men on my shifts for all of May and June up to yesterday. The Federal Auditor is comin’ next week and I need to compare my records with the timecards.”
“Well, Dave, I’m sure my figures are accurate. There’s no need to compare. I copied my figures directly from the timecards you tendered.”
He really didn’t have the energy to argue with this man. “I’m sure your figures are right on the money, Fred. I just got to be sure. Alright.”
After he set his lunch bucket in the small fridge near the window, he continued, “It’s unusual. I hate to mess with my—”
“I need to compare your goddamn timecards with my record book! So do I get them, or do I have to go to the building next door and have Hansen come and get them for me?”
Fred Winters nervously pulled out a ring of smaller keys from his desk drawer. He fingered the keys until he rested upon the key for his file drawer. The ring of keys clanged on the gray concrete floor. After he picked up the keys, Winters slipped on a rubber thumb grip and fingered the stack of the 1952 May and June time cards. “Here are your shift time cards. Bring them back to me in an hour! One hour, you understand. One hour.”
Without making any eye contact, David took the rubber banded timecards and left. Once back at his trailer he banged around his bathroom cabinets for aspirin. None. He went to the kitchen and looked above the sink and found a near-empty bottle of aspirin. He swallowed the remaining three pills and washed them down with a dirty mason jar of water. “I got to get rid of this pounding headache so I can take care of these goddamn timecards.”
He spread the timecards on the kitchen table. One by one he removed the bogus timecards for each week. He placed them into a stack. Then he discarded the stack into the garbage can outside. He spilled some fuel oil on the cards and dropped a wooden match.
Back in his kitchen he organized the remaining timecards back in alphabetical order just like Winters had them arranged. “I’m sure my figures won’t work out exactly, but the auditor won’t be able to figure out why. My books’ll match the bookkeeper’s timecards and that’s all I have to worry about.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
The development of a road through Badrock Canyon naturally coincided with the construction of the Great Northern Railroad. Known originally as the tote road, this route was used to transport materials to the railroad building sites. At first, the road was so low that it flooded during high water, but it was later improved. In 1929, the South Fork Bridge was built and the highway surfaced.
Until the completion of Transcontinental Highway 2 in 1930, no automobiles could pass through the upper part of the Canyon. Throughout the 1920’s, vehicles were loaded on railroad flatcars at either the East or West Glacier stations, with their owners following in passenger coaches, for a fee of $12.50.
U.S. Highway 2 was completed in July of 1930, with the last barrier, a large outcropping of rock, removed about a mile west of the summit. Traffic was first allowed over the pass on July 20, 1930. As this segment of the highway had been named the Theodore Roosevelt Memorial highway, the Roosevelt monument was built in October of 1931 at Marias Pass.
The development of the highway greatly increased traffic not only through Badrock Canyon but also into Glacier National Park. With the completion of the Going-to-the-Sun Road in 1933, this area of the country became a new national destination for transcontinental automobile travel.
He stared aimlessly out of the caboose window of the Great Northern Railroad freight train as it picked up speed twenty minutes out of the station in West Glacier. The cars on Highway 2 traveled faster than the train as it headed east for Havre. This normally was a good time for him to think and appreciate the beauty of the Middle Fork River and the backdrop of Glacier National Park. But not today. It was Saturday morning and he’d be gone until late Sunday night.
As he looked at the cars zooming by alongside the train, Rich Toma reviewed the ugly argument he had with his wife, Lila. He told her that things had changed between them. He relived his words again. “You’re different, Lila. I found two cigarette butts outside the back porch and you don’t smoke. The truck tire tracks in the mud near our car don’t make no sense neither. Whose truck do they belong to? You don’t come to me in our bed during the night like you used to. You act like you don’t want me to even touch you.”
His mind temporarily left their argument as the train entered the quarter mile tunnel when the train track followed the wide sweeping bend in the Middle Fork River. In the darkness of the tunnel, he angrily flashed back to the big thing on his mind. The sickening smell of Old Spice on his pillowcase as he lay down to sleep Wednesday night haunted him. He hated the smell of Old Spice. “There’s somebody else, I know it. I’ll talk to her again Sunday night. She don’t know it, but I got somebody keeping an eye on her tonight at her dance. I’ll kill the son of a bitch once I find out who he is.”
At 2:15 Saturday afternoon, Hannah Holley walked into Rocco’s Club and escorted three teenagers loaded down with decorations and cases of beer and liquor. The boys joked with each other about what a great party they’d have drinking all of this free booze. Hannah took the bait and engaged in a conversation about the drinking age and the evils of drinking. “The only thing you three juvenile delinquents will be drinking is the Pepsi I have in my cooler. Don’t you dare let me catch any of you sneaking any beer.”
The boys laughed and enjoyed the company of the lady who operated the Royal Theater. She seemed to find a way for them to work at small jobs around town earning money. They cleaned her show house on the weekends in exchange for watching the movies for free.
The other members of the Care Less Group already rearranged tables and chairs and sang off-tune to the record player as it belted out Guy Mitchell’s hit song, “Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.” It was the fift
h time the song filled the near-empty Supper Club, and the women circled the boys as they sang.
Hannah pretended to mouth the words but didn’t know more than a couple of words. She picked up one of the floor mops leaning against a table and used it as a floor microphone as she imitated a singer in the band. Her giddy friends joined her arm in arm and moved in a disorganized group and sang as loud as they possibly could. The song ended and the group broke into laughter that echoed around the walls of the empty supper club.
Betty Hansen composed herself and suggested that they perform that act tonight when the band took their first break. “Seriously, we should do this tonight. Can you imagine the look on everybody’s faces? It’ll be fun. Let’s do it!”
Mabel joined in, “I’d have to have a few high balls first, before I’d try anything like that.” She then realized what she said, but it was too late. The other ladies erupted again into out of control laughter.
“I bet you’ve had more than one set of high balls, Mabel. I bet Hannah’s new friend from Butte has a pretty—”
Hannah interrupted Betty before she finished her words. “Don’t say another word, Betty Hansen. I’ll wet my pants for sure. Stop.”
The reward for the ladies in volunteering so much time and energy into the various activities of Hungry Horse and Martin City was the feelings and fun they experienced by working together. Each woman battled their own form of loneliness and sometimes frustrating relationships with the men in their lives. But only positive feelings came from being together with one another at times like this. It was easy to find the energy and buried senses of humor when they got together. Only small pieces of who they really were came out in their personal lives away from the group.
Lila still stung from the morning verbal attack from her husband Rich. Her stomach turned and her head throbbed at the thought of being caught cheating with David. She needed to be with her friends right now, and this fundraiser was a perfect distraction from the seriousness of Rich’s words. He was a good man when they were younger. Patient, fun, loving. He still was a great provider. But now they passed like ships in the night, barely talking. They only went through the motions of what they once were. If only I’d gotten pregnant and had children. That’s what we both really wanted. If only...What a terrible time to get involved with David. My life’s a mess. Oh God, please keep him away from me tonight. I can’t be with him again. I just can’t.
Hannah placed her arm around her as they walked toward the kitchen. “Is everything alright, Lila?”
“I’m okay Hannah. I just have a headache. That’s all.”
“Have you taken anything for it yet?”
Lila forced a smile as she fought back the tears. “No, do you got anything?”
Hannah walked back to her brown leather purse on the table near the stack of decorations. She returned with a bottle of aspirin and offered it to Hannah. “Thanks Hannah. This’ll take care of it.”
“What do you think you’ll wear tonight? I’m not so sure now that we’re going to do an imitation of Guy Mitchell and his band.” Secretly, Hannah was torn as to what she would wear just in case Mikhail dropped by the dance. She really never had anything nice to wear. Besides, he probably wouldn’t show up anyway. She told herself to quit acting like a kid anyway.
“Well Hannah, I’m thinking of wearing my yellow spring dress and white flats. Nothin’ fancy or anything. How about you?”
Betty Hansen interrupted them as she sauntered into the kitchen with the boys right behind her carrying the beer and liquor. “How do you want to set up the booze, Hannah? I need to know that because I plan to have a few drinks myself tonight.”
Hannah smiled and replied, “Just set the beer in the ice box back there boys. And set the Whiskey and Vodka on the back shelves. The bartenders will arrange how they want things when they get here at 5:00. You kids haul the ice from the bar out front back here into these ice chests. We need to keep our liquor separate from the main bar.”
Mabel’s feet pained her most of the time. They really ached after she stood too long. She limped slightly as she walked toward the other women. “I think I’ll set up the cash box and raffle ticket basket near the front door. I need to borrow these three gorgeous young bucks for awhile.” The three boys benefited from Mabel’s generosity two years earlier when she bought their baseball uniforms for them so they could play in the Columbia Falls league. Two of the boys also treasured the Boys Scouts uniforms that she paid for last spring. They eagerly followed and talked to her as she led them to the storage area to pick up her supplies.
Rocco’s Supper Club thrived as the restaurant, bar, and dance hall of choice in the Canyon. The one story white building stood across from the entrance of the main haul road to the top of Hungry Horse Dam. Couples depended on the excellent service, clean facilities, and great food. Special occasions with fine dining called for a night at Rocco’s. Weddings, anniversaries, holiday dinners, birthdays, and Saturday night dances highlighted the reputation of Rocco’s. It also provided the best dance floor and bandstand in the valley.
The gravel parking lot in front of Roccos’ held seventy-five cars if everyone parked correctly. Latecomers lined their cars along the highway as people rolled into the supper club for the fundraiser. The Hungry Horse fire truck parked outside the front door advertising the event. Tomas read the sign as he and his father slowly walked toward the steps to the front door. “What’s a resuscitator dad?”
Mikhail paused as his right foot touched down on the bottom step. “I’m not sure. But they must need one if they have this big a goings on to buy one.” A new pair of Can’t Bust Em black pants was the closest thing Mikhail had that resembled something a little dressier. He and Tomas changed into what good clothes they had after they showered at the barracks after work. Mikhail’s dark thick hair held an excess of Wild Root Cream Oil. The hair laid close to his scalp and never moved one hair in the wind. Tomas wanted to tell him he looked funny, but knew better. He thought John Nolan would take care of that once he saw him.
Mabel greeted the father and son as they entered the Supper Club. “Good evening gentlemen. Welcome to our little party.” She sat on a wooden chair behind the small table. “There’s no charge to come in, but we hope you might buy a couple of raffle tickets. They’re four bits a piece or three for a dollar. How many would you like?”
Mikhail handed her a silver dollar. “Tomas, you can fill out tickets. Put Anna’s name on all three tickets. You can buy your own.” He looked toward the bar where he spotted Nolan. “I’m goin’ over to say hello to Nolan.”
Betty Hansen and an older woman stood drinking with Nolan. He just finished telling them his latest farmer’s daughter joke. The little group was laughing as Mikhail approached them. Nolan was in mid-drink when he spotted his friend, “What the hell you got on your hair?” It looks like the hairdo you had when we made our first communion and your mother plastered your hair with sugar and water.” Betty Hansen erupted with laughter and enjoyed the feeling of her second highball. Nolan appreciated her recognition of his fine sense of humor.
Mikhail shook his head and bluffed a punch at Nolan. “Hello, Nolan.”
Betty introduced herself and the lady standing with them. She moved back to the bar and set her empty glass down on the makeshift bar counter. Her friend followed her and left Nolan and Mikhail talking. “Maggie. Hannah has a little crush on that big fella there. Don’t tell her I told you though. But keep an eye on those two tonight. Maybe—”
“Two highballs ladies.”
Betty responded to the bartender, “Correct Jack. You’re my hero.” She handed one of the drinks to her friend Maggie and they returned to Mikhail and Nolan.
Across the floor, Lila made small talk with several locals. Her concentration focused on the door in the event David came to the fundraiser. She once again rehearsed her plan in her mind as she pretended to listen to the conversation about the rain and muddy streets. She was going to avoid a scene with David but make
sure he knew their affair was over. As difficult as it would be to live without his exciting ways, she’d break it off tonight or at the latest, tomorrow. Her stomach flipped over as she heard his laugh bellow outside. He was here and most likely not feeling any pain.
David and his bartender lady friend, Jackie, entered the front door of Rocco’s. People turned and looked as David stumbled to the floor. He and his friend laughed, and she fell over on top of him in her vain attempt to help him stand up. Mikhail sent a menacing stare at David while Tomas hurried to his side and helped him.
He brushed himself off and continued his uncontrollable laughter. “Thanks, Tommy Boy. Pretty slippery floor for the middle of summer. Maybe your dad over there put a banana peel down for me to fall on.”
Tomas laughed and helped Jackie up to the chair placed near the door. She hugged him and kissed him on the cheek. “Thanks Kid. You’re a doll. Me and Dave had a few too many at the Dew Drop before coming down. After I get my bearings, you and me are going to dance up a storm, you understand.”
Tomas smiled at her and intentionally avoided staring at her abundant cleavage. “Oh, I ain’t much of a dancer, but I’ll give it a try. I think I have two left feet.”
“When you’re as good looking as you are Kid, it don’t matter if you can dance or not. Just flash those big browns and you’ll probably get yourself laid tonight.”
He felt his face redden from the embarrassment. “Oh, not me. I, I, I’m goin’ to go get some punch. Talk to ya later, okay?” Tomas walked toward the bar and thought of what she said to him. “Boy, I wonder what that is like havin’ sex. Maybe before the summer is out I might find out.”
David noticed Lila and started walking toward her. She went outside through the side door. He went to the bar and ordered a whiskey seven and went out the same side door to talk to Lila. She stood near the edge of Rocco’s and looked back to see David walking toward her.
