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Wyatt wrote it all down.

“You want pie, Harlan?” I asked.

He nodded and I waved Maryanne over. “What kind of pie do you have today?”

“Apple, cherry, blueberry and lemon meringue.”

“I’ll have lemon.”

“Cherry,” said Ted.

“I’ll have cherry too,” said Harlan.

Wyatt finished writing his notes and closed his notebook.

“Get a clean page.”

“What?” Big grin. “You have more for me?” Wyatt opened the notebook to a new page and picked up his pen.

“A body was recovered from the Flathead River this morning on the Elwell Lake Road section of the river. The victim has been identified as Kala Bronowski of Ethridge.”

Wyatt’s eyes were wide. “Was she the driver of the car that went off the Milk Run Bridge?”

“Yep. And if you want pictures to go with that story, Ted will be pulling the car out of the water right after we leave here. Got your camera in your car?”

Wyatt grinned. “Sure do. I owe you, Travis.”

“I’ll get the bill and you can get the tip.”

Milk Run Bridge.

I pulled over to the side of the road, hopped out, and Harlan and I removed the barricades and the road closure sign. The people who lived at the end of Milk Run were patiently waiting for the county to fix the bridge so they could drive all the way to their residences. They’d been parking on the side of the county road and walking to their homes for several days.

Ted hollered out orders to Harlan and both of them got soaking wet hooking onto the car so Ted could pull it out of the freezing cold water.

Once it was hooked up the way Ted wanted it, he hopped into his truck and began dragging it out of the river.

Wyatt got into position and took a dozen pictures of the car being lifted out of the river and pulled up onto the bank.

Once the muck-covered car was out of the river, Ted towed it back to the station. Harlan and I put the barricades across the road again.

“When are they gonna fix the bridge?” asked Harlan. “People who live down that way have to walk from here.”

“Yeah, they do, and that’s a good question. I’ll phone Mister Gibson, the county supervisor and ask him that, or maybe Wyatt should do it for his story on the bridge and the drowning.”

“Yes,” said Wyatt. “I’ll do it. Be a good comment to add at the end if I can get him to commit to a repair date.”

I laughed. “A couple of opinions from the people who are walking from here might hurry the county along.”

“Good point,” said Wyatt. “I’ll wander down the road and get a couple of those opinions and pass them along to the county.”

Sheriff’s Office. Coyote Creek.

Ted was already unhooking Kala Bronowski’s car when I got back to the station. Harlan and I walked to the back of the parking lot and watched Ted open all the doors and the trunk to allow the interior to dry out.

“Stinks like fish in there.” Ted made a face.

“If Bronowski has insurance on that car, it’s going to be a write-off,” I said. “A mess like that can’t be fixed.”