Free The Deadly River by Jeff Noonan Page B

grinned. “No. But I’m really curious as to whether there’s a deal to be made there. Is someone else involved or is Willy just the hapless idiot that he appears to be?”
    The sheriff stopped and turned an appraising stare on the youngster. “You know, I’m starting to think that you’re a lot sharper than I gave you credit for. I can’t answer that question except to say that there’s no reason that both answers couldn’t be in the affirmative. It’s always easy to get a hapless idiot to do things a smart person wouldn’t try. And it’s pretty hard to prove that there was anyone telling the idiot what to do when he did it.”
    It was Lee’s turn to search the sheriff’s face, trying to read between the lines. But the sheriff was impassive and Lee knew he would learn no more that day. He smiled and the two went through the courthouse door into the bright sunlight.

    By the time Lee was back in his cabin, it was too late to begin another hunt for the elusive lake. So he bought a newspaper and a Max Brand western from the general store and settled in for a relaxing afternoon at the cabin. The little front porch featured a wooden swing that, when padded with the cabin’s bedding, made a comfortable place to read and watch the world pass by.

CHAPTER NINE: REVELATION
    I t was almost eight o’clock when the evening chill woke Lee. He was still on the porch swing, with the novel half-read on his lap. Shaking his head, he laughed aloud at himself.
I must’ve been really tired
. Standing, he carried the bedding back inside, splashed his face, and made himself presentable. His stomach was telling him that it was dinner time. Once again, he crossed the highway and took a seat in the café.
    The café was crowded tonight. Several truck drivers were swapping road stories at the end of the counter. Some teenagers that Lee didn’t know were making a mess on a table in the corner opposite the truckers. The stool next to the cash register was empty, so Lee slid into it and found himself facing Betty. She gave him a big smile and a quick “Be right with you, Lee.” He nodded and began studying the menu. Soon she returned, brought him coffee and took his order.
    He was sipping the coffee and thinking about the plan for tomorrow when a voice at his elbow signaled the arrival of another acquaintances. “Hi Lee. What’s new with you?” It was Kurt Kochran, still dressed in the Levi’s and flannel shirt he’d been wearing on the river that day.
    “Hey Kurt. Good to see you. Nothing much new here. Had to meet with the County Attorney about that robbery, but that wasn’t particularly exciting. What’s new with you? How is the river float going?”
    “Not bad. We’ve worked our way down to just east of Big River. Tomorrow we’ll pass the mouth of Thunder Creek where the runoff from the International Match sawmill hits the river. I’m anxious to seethe pollution readings we get there. So far, the reading have been even worse than we expected.”
    “How so?”
    “Well, the heavy metal and chemical contamination was worse than we thought from the headwaters down to the conflux of the Clark Fork and Blackfoot Rivers, just east of Missoula. There’s a dam, the Milltown Dam, just below where the two rivers come together that’s been stopping a lot of the mine and sawmill waste behind it. We found out that the dirt behind the dam is very badly contaminated. In fact, it’s just a kind of greasy sludge down at least four feet into the river bottom. I don’t know how on earth anyone will ever be able to fix that place. There’s a massive area there that’s so badly contaminated that it must look like Hiroshima under the water - and it’s probably just as deadly.”
    He stopped to take a sip of coffee, then continued. “But the dam did stop a lot of the heavier contamination. Below the dam, we’re finding less heavy metal contamination, but about as much in the way of chemicals. Plus, we’re finding a tremendous