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Donner stopped in Winslow having heard dispatch’s call. Hawke managed to calm down one of the regulars at the Blue Elk while Donner loaded the town drunk, Archie, into his car and hauled him to the county jail in Alder.
“Why would you want to beat up Archie?” Hawke asked.
“He said all hunters were murderers.” The man slurred his words and his eyes were pinging around in his eye sockets.
“He has a point. Hunters do kill animals that are just minding their own business.” Hawke pulled out his logbook. “What’s your name?”
The drunk squinted, staring at him. “George Rawlins, why?”
“I need your name to take your statement. Who started the fight?”
“He did. By saying hunters are murderers.” The man wiped a hand under his nose and reached out to pick up the beer in front of him.
Hawke eased the bottle away from the man. “Did he throw the first punch?”
Rawlins drew his hand back, staring at the bottle. “Can’t remember.”
That was a pretty good indication he’d thrown the first punch. “What were you talking about that riled Archie?”
“This business with Duane.”
“Sigler? What business?” Hawke was curious to see what the man had to say.
“Yeah. Him getting killed. Shot they say. You know, he was a nice enough fella. But he did cut them hunters short.” The man licked his lips and made an effort to grasp the beer bottle.
Hawke placed the bottle on another table. “How did Duane manage to charge so little for his hunts?”
“By feeding them canned stew and telling them it was the full hunting experience. He was good at talkin’ you into thinking his way.” The man shook his head. “Looks like he couldn’t talk his way out of the bullet he took.”
“Do you think any of the hunters he shorted would be mad enough to shoot him?” Hawke didn’t think it was a hunter because all the evidence was aimed at the district attorney, but one of them might have also had a grudge with the D.A.
“Naw. That’s what don’t make sense. Everyone can’t believe he was shot. Not like he was. Maybe out in the woods, hunting, but in his own barn...” The man shook his head slowly. “Don’t make sense.”
Hawke managed to get the man out in his pickup and haul him to the jail in Alder. It appeared he’d been the one to take the first punch. It wouldn’t hurt for both he and Archie to sleep it off in the jail.
He drove home, fed the horses, and took a shower.
Dog sat on his bed as Hawke heated up a dinner in the microwave. He sent the photos he took of the records in the basement to his computer. It would be easier to read them in a larger format.
Pulling the steaming dinner out of the microwave, he placed it on the small table next to his computer. He opened up his email and then the photos one at a time. The files were for drunk driving violations that happened in the summer of 1988. He had a feeling neither one had anything to do with their murders. Someone, most likely the Assistant D.A. had taken the one that was important.
He pulled up the archives of the Wallowa County Chieftain, the county’s weekly newspaper, and began skimming through the files for the summer of 1988.
A headline caught his attention. DRUNK DRIVER KILLS PASSENGER. He went on to read how two 16 year olds were at a party drinking, and on the way back to where they were staying, there was an accident. One was thrown from the vehicle and killed instantly. The driver suffered injuries that required he be ambulanced to Grande Ronde Hospital in La Grande. The name of the driver was Benjamin Lange. Hawke scanned the story for the name of the passenger. At the end of the article it finally mentioned the other boy. Wally Reedy.
Why would someone try and take revenge on Lange almost forty years later? Did it even have anything to do with the other deaths?
Had Judge Vickers asked Ms. Wallen to find the records or had she looked it up herself?
Too many questions and not nearly enough answers.
From what he’d learned of Lange, he grew up on the west side of the state. What was he doing here that summer?
Hawke scrolled through the next week’s paper looking for more information about the accident and the two involved. There was no mention of the families or a funeral for the other boy.
He’d have to ask the district attorney about that summer. He made a list of the things he needed to check or have checked and sent an email off to Donner about what he’d discovered and what they needed to know.
The clock on his computer said it was midnight. He needed to get some sleep.
«»«»«»
Hawke was finishing up feeding his horses when his phone buzzed. Donner.
“Did you get—”
“I was reading your email. What is this about Lange killing someone forty years ago?”
Hawke sat down on the third step from the bottom and told the detective why he’d looked at the records in the basement of the courthouse and everything he’d discovered from that investigation.
A low whistle pierced his ear. “You are digging up all kinds of worms. Now you think Sigler and Brooks deaths are because of an old drunk driving accident?”
“I don’t know, but it seems kind of a coincidence that the file that appears to be missing could have something to do with the D.A. and all the evidence in the murders is pointing to him.” Hawke rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. “What I don’t understand is Lange has alibis for all but the missing gun. People have vouched for seeing him at the times the murders were committed so whoever is trying to frame him isn’t doing a thorough job of it.”
“Maybe they don’t want him convicted, just to squirm?” Donner asked.
“I don’t know. I’m going to have a visit with Lange this morning. See if he knows who might have a grudge from that long ago.” Hawke stood, wiping the dirt from the back of his pants.
“I’ll see what I can find on the name of the boy in the accident.” Donner ended the call.
Hawke glanced at his watch. It was too early to head to the courthouse. He glanced towards the Trembley’s house. Maybe they knew about the accident, and he’d yet to ask Darlene about Mrs. White, Judge Vickers’ secretary.
He walked over to the house and knocked on the back door.
Herb answered, worry wrinkled his brow. “Is something wrong?”
“No. Mind if I have a cup of coffee with you and Darlene?” Hawke waited on the step as the man studied him.
“Sure, come on in. You don’t usually invite yourself over.” Herb motioned to the table.
Darlene turned from where she was frying eggs on the stove. “Would you like breakfast?”
“Only if you have extra.”
Herb placed a cup of coffee in front of him. “You must think we know something.”
Hawke sipped the coffee and set the cup down. “Can you remember anything about a drunk driving accident that happened almost forty years ago? Two sixteen-year-old boys were involved. One died, the other was badly injured. I don’t think they were from around here.”
Herb sipped his coffee. Darlene stood by the stove, spatula in hand, staring at her husband.
“Forty years ago?” Herb asked.
“Our Jenny would have been about sixteen,” Darlene said, lifting the pan from the stove and placing sausage and eggs on the two men’s plates. She set the pan in the sink and turned toward the table. “I do remember something about two boys who were here camping with their families. They were invited to a party by a local girl who worked at the lake. The two boys were heading back to the lake when the accident happened.”
“I remember now.” Herb placed his cup on the table. “Wasn’t there some talk afterwards about that’s what out-of-towners got for trying to butt into a party?”
Darlene placed a plate of toast on the table and sat down. “I’m afraid there wasn’t much sympathy for the families of the two boys.” She shook her head.
Hawke had a feeling dragging the summer back up with Lange was going to be hard. He put jam on a piece of toast and asked, “What can you tell me about Mrs. White, Judge Vickers’ secretary?”
Darlene studied him. “What do you want to know about Sarah?”
“Is she married?”
“Widow. Her husband had a heart attack about four years ago. She has the one boy still in high school.” Darlene skimmed a finger around the rim of her coffee mug. “Why are you interested in her?”
“I wondered why she and District Attorney Lange would use the Judge’s office for a quickie.”
Darlene spit coffee onto her plate.
Herb burst out laughing.
“Really?” Darlene asked, her eyes sparkling.
“Don’t tell anyone. I only believe that because of their red faces when I asked why it took so long to coordinate calendars.”
Darlene started laughing. “Oh, I’m happy for Sarah.” Then she sobered and stared at Hawke. “I think it was Sarah who invited the two boys to the party.”
“How much older than Lange is she?” Could she be toying with him to get him tangled in deceit?
“Maybe two, possibly three years? Do you think they know something about the accident all those years ago?” Darlene’s usually jovial face had worry lines etched on her forehead.
“I’ll find out today.” Hawke finished off his coffee and stood. “Thank you for breakfast and the information.” He walked to the door and stopped, facing the couple. “Remember, none of this goes out of this house.” He peered at both of them, but Darlene the longest.
The couple nodded.
Hawke had today to work on this and then he had to take tomorrow off, to be able to check hunters on the weekend.
What was the coincidence that Lange and White found each other after forty years and that Lange was being set up for two murders?