Officer Howard agreed with Officer Won’s assessment of the situation when Officer Barnes and I made our report.
“It’s protocol,” Officer Howard reminded me, sounding very much like a father trying to explain the facts of life, “we want to keep things professional.”
“I wouldn’t let that get in way of maintaining a professional response,” I answered. It wasn’t much, but it was all that I had.
“I’m sure,” Officer Howard replied.
“We will continue what we can to find Washerman, sir,” Officer Barnes cut in, “now that we know what vehicle he’s been driving, we might get some leads as to where he is hiding.”
Officer Howard didn’t answer that. I could guess why. Officer Barnes and I could keep looking, but the lead in this case had been given to the County Sheriff’s Office and they could reserve the right to not call us in for backup. And given what Washerman had done in the past, and the fact that when he’d been caught, he went peacefully. There was nothing that would indicate that backup would be needed. Attacking Michael York was new, that was assumed to be merely the result of the likely argument that arose when Michael York knew that Washerman was not a man that was supposed to be there.
“I’ll need to call and share some information with the County Sheriff’s chief officer in Kalispell before we can move along with this,” Officer Howard then spoke after a few moments, “Do either of you have any guesses on where Washerman could be hiding?”
I glanced at Officer Barnes, who only shrugged.
“Our best guess is that he’s been in town, probably using a hotel,” I sighed, “but since some of the hotels refused to give us their guest lists without a warrant to see if he was there, we can’t confirm it.”
“That wouldn’t work if he’s engaged in more then just one incident,” Officer Howard dismissed it, “someone would see him, and would report it. Privacy issues would be unimportant. He needs some place where he could hide and not be seen.”
“That would remove anything in town,” Officer Barnes sighed, “someone would see him if he were staying in town… though after attacking Michael York, I doubt he’s going to be hiding out on the ranches around here or out of town.”
“Unless he has family here,” I added, “we can run a sweep through the town just looking for the truck. If he’s with family, he’ll have his vehicle close by. Parking it in a public lot would leave him exposed.”
Officer Howard nodded, “okay… run through the town and look for that truck. If you find it, monitor it until we can get the County Sheriffs here to make the arrest.”
Officer Barnes and I nodded and left his office.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Searching for Washerman’s truck was completely unsuccessful. Officer Barnes and I drove all through Columbia Falls and even drove past several of the ranches in the area. There were some white Toyotas, but none of them had a plate that read “@NLUV01”. We were no closer to finding Washerman then when the day began. It was all frustrating.
The worst of it was figuring out how I was going to tell Molly about what had happened. The attack on Michael York might as well have been an attack on family in a way. York had given us our cabin, Bandhavgarh. He had changed his will so that we would inherit the land his ranch was on. Much of this was because we stood up to Beauregard, but he still seemed fairly friendly and tolerant of Molly and I. And now, I would have to tell her that a “friend” was likely in intensive care, and I had no idea whether or not he would be okay.
And so, as my shift ended I found myself at the one place I figured might allow me to figure out the words to say to Molly, Joseph Patten’s home.
“I’m not interrupting anything am I?” I asked as Patten came to the door.
“No, not really,” Patten answered, “come in. Come in.”
He opened the door and allowed me to come in.
“So… it’s Washerman that’s bugging you right now, I take it?” Patten commented.
“It’s frustrating, yes,” I nodded, “Though I’m not about to blow my top over a nut like Washerman.”
“Then why are you here?” Patten wondered.
He sounded somewhat suspicious in the question, which I understood. I had agreed to go to him for counseling when something had me extremely angry to help deal with my temper. This errand, however was to try and find the right words to say to Molly.
“To get some help of a slightly different nature,” I sighed.
I glanced over to see that Patten’s look had shifted from one of suspicion to one of curiosity.
“It is related to the present case,” I sighed, “but the issue is not so much with me but with how I’m supposed to break this to Molly…”
“What did Washerman do?” Patten asked.
“Do you know Michael York?” I asked.
“An old rancher in the area,” Patten answered, “and his family has been in the area for a LONG time. Beauregard’s chief antagonist before you and Molly moved here… and to be honest, Officer Wayne, the games that went back and forth between the ranchers here was not something to be admired. Nothing that went back and forth between them was illegal, but I wouldn’t say it was entirely right, either.”
There was a brief silence for a moment.
“Though the man seems to have calmed down a lot since Beauregard and R.A.M. were busted,” Patten finished, “probably because the threat he felt of someone stealing his land and everything he’d had was gone after that point.”
“He has been Molly’s and my first real benefactor here,” I told him, “I know you could say that Frank Rhoer was in that position… but at that time, Beauregard’s politicking and other actions put him in a tough position…”
“Not to mention that you over reacted and called him a Nazi,” Patten reminded me.
“Not Nazi,” I sighed, “I agree that I over reacted. My comparison was to those who lived just outside the camps like Dachau or Buchenwald and then insisted they knew nothing of what was going on in the camps.”
“Same difference,” Patten remarked, “it’s still an over reaction.”
“I know,” I looked down, “anyway, Michael York was a great benefactor to Molly and I. He gave us our cabin and has allowed us the right to hunt on his land… which we need help satisfy the hunting instincts we have.”
Patten slowly nodded, saying nothing.
“As a result we’ve seen him as a friend of sorts,” I answered, “not super close, as we aren’t ranchers and Molly’s Uncle is looking after the cattle that were given to us.”
“And what did Washerman do to him?” Patten asked.
“He hit him in the head with a large set of wire cutters,” I sighed, “Michael York has been taken by ambulance to Kalispell… and I’m not entirely sure how to tell Molly what has happened.”
Patten sighed sat down in a chair in his living room.
“I’m not sure I’d have the best advice on this, Officer Wayne,” Patten replied, “the best thing would be to tell the truth.”
“I don’t want to upset her,” I told him.
“If you’ve both seen him as a friend, she’ll be upset no matter what you say,” Patten spoke back, “try to be gentle and voice some hope that everything would be fine… that’s about all I can say on this. Bearing bad news is never easy.”
“I don’t know if he will be okay,” I said weakly.
“Just say that you hope he will,” Patten answered, “that should be enough.”
I only sighed.
“I apologize that I can’t give you any more,” Patten finished.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++
I slowly made my way to Bandhavgarh to find Molly waiting for me by what was our garage. It was rapidly nearing completion as the summer had allowed the crews that Michael York had hired the previous fall to work longer and harder on the project. From what updates I had gotten on the project, mostly through Molly or in paper notes left for us, they would have the main physical structure done shortly.
The real work that remained was connecting the garage to the cabin, which would require moving our washer and dryer. But, doing that would allow us to move our deep freeze into the garage and solve the problem of the mixed bleach and blood smell in the laundry room.
“Molly… there is something I need to tell you,” I said weakly as I approached her, “something happened today.”
“I know,” Molly said slowly and came and hugged me, nuzzling her head into my cheek, “Uncle Frank and Meredeth came by after I came home. They’re going to Kalispell to pick up Nessie and make sure everything is in order.”
“You know?” I gasped as I processed the information. This essentially canceled out the need to talk with Patten to try and figure out what to say to her, but I couldn’t have known that Frank Rhoer and Meredeth would tell Molly.
“Yes,” Molly nodded, “will he be okay?”
“I hope so,” I sighed, “I really hope so.”
“Did you catch him?” Molly asked, “this attacker?”
“No,” I sighed, “we know who he is, but we haven’t caught him.”
Molly gave a growling sigh.
“This feels like Williams’ attack all over again,” Molly spoke.
“He hasn’t killed anyone, yet,” I told her, “and hopefully Mr. York will be fine.”
Molly didn’t answer.
“And we will get him,” I told her, trying to provide some comfort to her.
“Be safe, George,” Molly told me, “be safe.”
“I will,” I replied.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++
The next few days proved to be rather tense. As far as Molly and I could figure out, Mr. York remained in intensive care. Nessie would tell both of us the extent of what the doctors in Kalispell found out. The blow had broken several of the bones in his face and caused a massive amount of internal hemorrhaging in the area where the blow had been delivered. The internal bleeding and localized swelling had meant that the doctors there couldn’t do the surgery needed to reset the bones that Washerman had broken with the wire cutters he had. Michael York was clinging to life, but only just, and what shocked Molly and I the most was the word “coma”. That did not make a good picture for his future, and all we could do was hope.
The search for Washerman had almost as much success. Officer Barnes continued to fail to find any sign of him in Columbia Falls. Officer Won had been assigned by the County Sheriff’s Office to work closely with our department by his superiors. But he had had as much success in tracking Washerman down in the areas beyond Columbia Falls. Wherever he was hiding, he was good at it.
However, after a few days, something finally turned around. Officer Barnes and I had just returned from a quiet patrol to find Officer Won waiting for us with a middle aged woman standing by him outside the door to our station’s interrogation room.
“Did you find anything?” Officer Won asked.
“Nothing out of routine in town calls,” Officer Barnes sighed, “nothing related to Washerman. How about you?”
“Nothing in my patrols,” Officer Won sighed, “however, we might have some help in finding him from a tip.”
Officer Won then gestured to the woman standing next to him.
“You saw him?” I asked.
The woman nodded.
“Let’s conduct this in here so that we’re out of the way,” Officer Won urged and motioned for her to go into the interrogation room.
She agreed and went in and sat down in the chair where a prisoner/suspect would normally sit for a questioning sessions. Officer Won and Barnes sat opposite her, while I stood behind them.
“Can we start with your name to start things?” Officer Won asked.
“Yes,” the woman answered, “My name is Maggie Reed. I run a little gas station in Hungry Horse, and I believe I saw this Horace Washerman that you are looking for.”
“Hungary Horse… wouldn’t you have reported this to the unit there?” Officer Barnes asked.
“I did, they told me to come here to report it to you,” Maggie answered.
Officer Won nodded, “and you say you saw him?”
“Yes, he came into my station and bought gas the other day,” Maggie explained, “he was fairly friendly… but also nervous. Like he knew what he was doing was risking exposure.”
We all nodded.
“Did he tell you where he was staying? Or at least do you know where he went after filling up?” Officer Won asked.
“He never said where he was staying, but he did head north out of Hungry Horse,” Maggie told us, “the only place he could have gone would have been into Glacier National Park.”
“Glacier…” Officer Won sighed.
“That would be my guess,” Maggie nodded, “that’s about all that I have.”
“And I thank you for your help,” Officer Won answered, “it’s more then what we’ve been able to get otherwise.”
Maggie nodded and stood up. As she quietly walked out, Officer Won turned to Officer Barnes and I.
“It’s a lead,” Officer Barnes commented.
“One that complicates things,” Officer Won answered, “Glacier National Park is beyond my jurisdiction and well beyond yours.”
“We can still get him,” I answered, “it’ll mean working with the Park Rangers but I think we can get him.”
“The Park Rangers aren’t responsible for apprehending him for his crimes, especially since they weren’t committed IN the park,” Officer Won answered, “The only ones who can arrest him for his crimes in Columbia Falls will be the FBI… and will require the assistance of the Park Rangers to find him. All we can really do is tag along and correctly identify him, and that is provided they allow us to come along with them.”