Triple Double. James Lewis

conversation, asking about their journey through Idaho territory all the while complimenting them on their youthful looks and manners. Their glasses were never empty. Molly was entrancing that evening. With long brown hair and in her late thirties, she always wore low-cut blouses. Later that night in their room, after both men had passed out, she quietly slipped on her skirt and flannel shirt then started in on their saddlebags. She smiled when she found a half-dozen gold coins and a few gold nuggets the size of small marbles. Molly also found a hand-drawn map with two marks of interest. The first mark was near Butte, Montana. The second x was between what later became known as the Rose and Killarney Lakes. That second mark was not more than a half-day buggy ride from her inn.

      Molly took one nugget and one gold coin from the small pull-string pouch that contained the twenty-dollar gold pieces. It was way more money than these young toughs could have earned, legally, in two or three years. She replaced the map and slowly slipped out of their room. When she was downstairs, she drew the map from memory and put it in her safe. The young riders were gone most of the second day, returning after dark. Both were so exhausted they passed up Molly’s advances. Henry, Molly’s stable hand and confidant, reported that the horses and pack mules had been ridden hard. On the third day of their stay, just before dawn, both riders and their animals were gone.

      News arrived slowly in the late 1800s until the telegraph and railways were constructed. The Saddle Inn became a hub of information. Molly foresaw the benefits of being a postmaster while also offering a telegraph service inside her establishment. A month after the two cowboys had departed, news came of a train robbery out of Butte, Montana. The robbery, shoot-out, and escape had taken place just two weeks before the two young riders had stayed at the Saddle. The stolen items were more than interesting to Molly: three hundred pounds of unrefined gold, six thousand dollars in gold coin, and stores of laudanum and opium medicines. Within three days, map in hand, Henry and Molly had a buggy packed and ready to travel. Henry was not just a stable boss. He could handle any rifle or pistol that was available. Preferring to settle most of the Saddle Inn’s problems with brute strength and fisticuffs, Henry was big and tough.

      Molly and Henry traveled southwest, following the river. As the north fork turned straight south toward St. Maries, a logging township, darkness fell. They slept on the ground and waited for dawn. At first light, Henry started a fire, boiling water for coffee and frying bacon. Molly perused the map once again. Together, they agreed on a meadow and canyon that lay halfway between the Rose and Killarney Lakes. Already on the east side of the river, they followed a wheel-worn path south again toward St. Maries. Soon they found a less-used wheel trail that ran back east off the main southern route. It showed signs of recent usage. Twenty minutes in, they entered a meadow. Henry was first to spot several men working about a quarter mile across the open area. He halted the buggy while they were still hidden in the trees. “That’s why the path is so worn. Someone is building something.”

      “Do we want them to know we’re here?” asked Molly.

      “I’m sure they didn’t see us,” he told Molly. “I’ll get on up that hill to where I have a view. Keep the horses as quiet as you can. I won’t be long.” The hill was more like a cliff for the first fifty feet. Henry used the outcropping of roots and rocks to scale the escarpment. When on top, he walked up the slope another hundred yards and slowly edged toward the meadow overlook.

      It was too far to hear anything except the occasional loud noise of unloading some crates and metal objects from a wagon team just inside the tree line. Henry did spot a peculiar-looking cleared area on the south edge of the meadow. The clearing was worn and looked to have a used ashen firepit. Next to the pit was an odd-looking arrangement of rocks circling what looked to be a well. If it was a water well, somebody had dug it out. The dry summer would have been in the laborers favor. Henry knew the work put into that well had to have covered many weeks. The rim was a good six feet across. Who knows how deep it was? Two small canvas tarps were draped over poles to provide shade and shelter for the men in the meadow.

      When he returned to where he’d left Molly and the buggy, Henry reported everything he had seen. He was sure only three men were working. “It might be the start of a sawmill, but it’s hard to say,” he said, adding, “I think we should spend the rest of the day getting to a vantage point on the south side. It overlooks what seems to be a campsite. We could use some time watching and listening to their chatter.” Henry tied the horse team out of earshot from the wagon path. Fed and watered, they would be fine until morning. Both horses were tethered lightly in case a mountain lion showed up.

      *****

      “The Newman Lake murders have similarities to Rose Lake. Ron and I feel something else is afoot,” Terry began.

      “Theory?” asked Captain Saunders.

      “Newman Lake was payback, motivated by one of the victims’ occupation. We believe only one of the McCoys was targeted. Phyllis and David McCoy were posed for law enforcement benefit,” Terry replied.

      “Whoever killed the Nelsons would, in no way, want to bring more heat to a cold case. A case so cold that all of law enforcement had given up looking for the motives or the perps. All CDA sheriff’s findings from Rose Lake point to torture of the deceased father, Joe, as a tool for gathering information. Joe Nelson was still alive for some time while suspended. The coroner’s report points to torn muscles in his abdominal area, shoulders, and neck. He was probably trying to defend himself by flailing his body hanging above the ground.”

      “Christian questioned the doctor who did the autopsy on Phyllis and David. Phyllis was brain-dead before she hit the ground. The stab wounds were for effect. The autopsy on David showed no signs of struggle. He died before being hung by his hands in the garage. The cause of death is listed as a bullet to the heart. The McCoy killings may not have been a copycat.”

      “Have you reported any of this to Captain Croop or her team?”

      “No, sir. We have certain suspicions and need more time before letting our thoughts become theirs. With your permission?”

      Saunders nodded his approval. “Are you getting any new information from CDA’s people?” asked the captain.

      “Drug deal and manufacturing equals illicit cash. That heads their list. Same old stuff. Like somebody’s suppressing information. Abron told us yesterday in the hospital that he thought the crime scene and investigation went south too quickly.” Abron’s attack and subsequent discovery of the underground room reopened the case to the CDA and the Spokane Sheriff’s Department.

      “Ron and I both agree the attack and murders were over something greater than we are seeing. Certainly more valuable than the small cache of drugs found on the premises. And why the brazen second attack at the hospital?”

      “Chief, can our team get more freedom to investigate in Idaho?”

      “I’ll contact Terry Croop this morning” was his reply. “CDA’s captain is not afraid of jurisdictional overlap. Make sure you question every neighbor in the area, even if they just moved in. I’m shifting Abron to your team. He can’t be pushed physically for a while. Use his knowledge of the law and forensic abilities to your advantage. Try to find out who the Nelsons did business with, including grocery shopping, locals, and their routines. Let’s hope our person-of-interest list grows substantially. Remember to keep CDA’s man, Lieutenant Bara, in the loop. I’ll handle all calls to Ms. Croop,” cautioned Saunders. “FYI, their theory, when you rule out drugs, brings our own aluminum refinery in to play. Both Nelsons worked there. Do not get caught up with the idea that both double homicides aren’t related. You, Ron, and Abron are now a team in this.”

      Terry Hollander had worked closely with Ron Rowe before. Kelsey was a newbie. Captain Saunders would use his new lieutenant, Jake Monroe, to lead the investigation of the McCoys. Detective Pat Price would be his partner. Saunders foresaw promotions within his department and new hiring to bring his force up to the tasks at hand. His search began for seasoned detectives available within the Pacific Northwest. “Gwen would have been perfect for the task,” he uttered out loud.

      Before departing the captain’s office, Terry asked,