Chapter 6
We Learn More about that Murder Trial back in Boulder
That night, with the storm behind us, the temperature conducive to camping, we found a KOA Campground just short of Spokane, near some tennis courts. Huck and Steve had both packed their tennis racquets for the trip and played whenever the rest of us, despite Sally’s objections, were willing to stop by a tennis court. (She wanted fishing holes.) Susie, it turned out, was also a tennis player, but hadn’t thought of packing her racquet, so she said, “Huck, you and Steve play, I’ll play the winner for the singles championship.”
Preparing supper, we learned more from Susie about that murder trial back in Boulder:
Not far out of Boulder, in the mountains along the Missouri river, a group of white supremacists (allegedly) had set-up a camp and self-defense training ground, but it was only rumors that had started with a murder outside the Circle K at the edge of town. The cops got some leads off the dead man’s cell phone which led them to this hunting lodge tucked back in the mountains. But no one there knew the guy who was murdered or anything about the murder. The cops, however, got the feeling there was more going on than just hunting antelope.
Eventually, a local man and hunting guide, Charlie Furbush, was charged with the murder based on ballistics testing of his deer rifle and the bullets which riddled the victim. The victim was a Canadian, apparently just passing through, but the cops had him tied to an international human trafficking ring working out of Canada. Since no one was talking, the trial promised to be full of questions – likely without answers – but in the build-up to the trial the press was doggedly pursuing all the rumors. One of the rumors was that both Furbush and the dead man had connections with the alleged supremacists out at the mountain camp.
The trial was still going on when the Land Yacht left Boulder.
After the tennis matches, with Huck seeming to gain the upper hand in the pursuit of Susie, we set up our tents. There was an embarrassing moment when Huck, setting up his own tent, invited Susie to stay in his, but she demurred. In the end, Skip, Rocky, and Steve all slept in our one big tent, Patty said she’d stay in Huck’s; Sally and Susie had the RV to themselves.
Before retiring, we had a supper of chili mac, rolls and a salad. Hanging by the campfire, we began to tell stories. It was a sweater wearing, pleasant evening, at least until Rocky suggested “scary RV stories” and plunged right in despite the groans.
“So, me, my mom, my dad and my two sisters started out for Glacier National Park in an RV my dad had rented, despite my mom’s wish to take the train. First night out, my dad went to retrieve the propane tank the rental guy said was stored in the overhead bin and a corpse rolled out with a noose around its neck. One of my sisters fainted on the spot and my mom started screaming bloody murder about not having taken the train instead.
“After calling the local sheriff and having the RV impounded, we finished the trip on the train.
“By the way,” Rocky asked, “anybody check our overhead bins yet?”
Next morning, the sun beginning to rise over the mountain tops, Susie fixed us all a giant omelette for breakfast. After washing dishes and packing up, we headed out for Seattle to drop waitress Susie at her daughter’s place. We were also going to Seattle to look up a lawyer friend of Steve’s from his public defender days. Before we reached Seattle, Steve tried one more time at wooing Susie: “You know,” he told her in a private moment, “we’ll probably never see each other again. Tell me the deal with your husband.”
“Well, you were right,” Susie started in. “Kind of like you, when the kids left the house, we were willing to admit what we knew all along – we had become bored with each other. One day he just announced he was leaving, and all I said was, ‘Stay in touch with the kids’.”
Arriving in Seattle, yes, rainy Seattle, Steve’s friend was amazed to hear we were actually showing up – she had thought Steve was kidding – and she made it clear she preferred meeting at her office and that it just be Steve. We dropped Steve off and proceeded to Susie’s daughter’s place, which actually was almost half way up the coast to Canada. That gave Steve plenty of time to see if he could butter-up his Seattle friend about us camping overnight in her backyard.
Stephanie Cole, Susie’s daughter, lived with a group of other women on a farm along the Skagit River growing apples. It was a big farmhouse, seven bedrooms in all. When we arrived, late in the day, Stephanie was delighted to see her mother, even with so many other unexpected visitors. “We have overnight guests all the time,” she said. “You’re all welcome to stick around a couple days, if you’d like.” We texted Steve back in Seattle that he was on his own for the night.
Things got interesting after Joey Cole, Susie’s other kid, arrived from Vancouver for this semi-family reunion. After introductions, where we learned Joey was the night clerk at the super fancy Hotel Vancouver, Skip steered the conversation to the murder trial back in Boulder: “So Joey and Stephanie, you guys know anything about that white supremacist hunting lodge back in your hometown?” They both allowed that they did, and had even been out to it, but seemed reluctant to say much about it.
Joey tried to change the subject, “So where you all off to next?”
Mom Susie, however, wanted to learn more. “So you two knew Furbush?” she asked them. [That would be Charlie Furbush, the alleged murderer.]
“Yeah,” Joey said, “Furbush even gave me a couple names to look up here in Vancouver, but I never liked the guy, and I have no intention of contacting anybody who has anything to do with him.”
“But,” Susie implored, “what if they know something about Charlie’s connections to the dead man? Didn’t the press say his last known address was in Vancouver?”
“Don’t go there Mom,” Joey said quietly, “it could get dangerous.” And that was that – for now.