Page 25 of The Girl from Devil’s Lake (Joanna Brady Mysteries #21)
“You may be wondering why I’m so concerned about a possible leak from someone inside the department.
That’s simple. It’s because it appears to me we have one.
At this point, although we’ve yet to receive DNA confirmation from the Department of Public Safety giving us a positive identification on our victim, Marliss Shackleford has already posted Xavier Delgado’s name.
I’m here to promise you this: If I learn that our suspect’s name has been disclosed to anyone outside this room without my personal approval, and if it ends up surfacing in the media, local or otherwise, I will track down the source of that leak, and whoever it is will be terminated on the spot.
It won’t matter who you are or how long you’ve worked here, your ass will be grass. Is that understood?”
Joanna prided herself on running her department with a light touch, but the idea that one of her employees might be Marliss’s tipster absolutely infuriated her, and she wanted people to know that any leaks about the current investigation would not be tolerated.
Finished with her diatribe, she paused long enough to see another round of nods of assent from everyone in the room.
Once she had them, she turned to the rolling whiteboard stationed behind her and moved it front and center.
Then, using an erasable marker, she printed the suspect’s name on the board in all capital letters: STEPHEN ROPER.
Gasps of recognition and disbelief came from several of the people gathered around the conference table, but Joanna didn’t allow time for any discussion. That would come later. Instead, she turned to her two CSIs who were seated next to each other to her right.
“All right, Casey,” she said. “You and Dave have the floor. It’s all yours.”
Casey stood up. “I happen to be someone who knew Mr. Roper well. He was my high school chemistry teacher, and that class was the first step in my becoming a CSI. I’ve always been grateful to the man and idolized him.
I suspect I’m not the only person in this room who encountered him as a teacher, so deep down, I’m hoping all this is wrong.
Unfortunately, we live and work in a small community.
We don’t get to choose the people we have to investigate, so here goes.
“Stephen Roper was born in Fertile, Minnesota, on June 24, 1945. He’s the son of Cynthia Hawkins Roper and Jackson Clyde Roper.
The couple divorced shortly after Stephen was born.
He was raised by a single mom. Cynthia never remarried.
Jackson later went to prison for murdering his second wife.
He died of Covid in 2022 while still incarcerated at the Minnesota Men’s Correctional Facility in St. Cloud.
“Stephen Roper graduated from Fertile-Beltrami High School before attending the University of Minnesota in St. Paul. After graduating with a teaching degree, he went back home and taught at his old high school for a number of years. In 1976, he applied for a teaching position here in Bisbee and worked here until his retirement in 2002. He’s a member in good standing of the Faith Lutheran Church in Warren.
He’s also a member of a loosely organized charitable organization called Hands Across the Border.
“After arriving in the Bisbee area, he purchased a property on what is now Country Club Drive north of Naco, Arizona, where he has resided ever since. Four years ago Mr. Roper acquired a junker food truck that he had refurbished into the vehicle known as ‘The Free Store,’ which Sheriff Brady mentioned in her previous remarks. The vehicle is owned and operated by him. For a number of years he regularly drove the vehicle back and forth across the border. A couple of years ago, following a health crisis—purportedly a cancer diagnosis—he was no longer able to carry out those duties, but relatively recently—over the last six months or so—he’s been able to resume his volunteer work.
“During his teaching career and even after his retirement, Mr. Roper has been a part-time Bisbee resident, staying in town during the school year and then traveling during the summer months. He was on one of those trips when he came across the food truck and had it transported back here to be refurbed into what it is now.”
“So even after he retired from teaching, he still continued to travel during the summers,” Garth remarked. “Any idea where he went?”
At that point Tom Hadlock raised his hand. “Minnesota,” he said. “I remember him telling us once that he spent every summer going back home to help out on the family farm.”
“Good to know,” Casey said, making a note of that on a piece of paper before continuing, “but other than that we have no idea about where he went during his travels.
“As far as we can tell, Mr. Roper never married nor does he have any children. In searching law enforcement databases, we’ve found no record of any criminal history, not even so much as a traffic ticket.
One would think that if he were a repeat offender of some kind, there would be some record of his fingerprints in AFIS or of his DNA in CODIS.
So far we’ve found nothing. It’s possible that he participated in previous crimes that remain unsolved.
In that case, unknown prints and an unknown DNA profile might still be on file somewhere, but without our having samples from him, there’s no way to tell. ”
“Asking him to voluntarily submit samples now would put him on notice that he’s currently under suspicion,” Joanna observed.
“Exactly,” Casey added. “And, at the moment, we’re nowhere near having enough probable cause to require him to do so.
Given his proximity to Mexico, if Roper becomes aware that we’re investigating him, it would be easy for him to flee the country.
I’m sure that’s one of the reasons Sheriff Brady is so concerned about the possibility of a leak.
“While I was researching Mr. Roper, Dave was busy doing a deep dive into Hands Across the Border. There are chapters of HATB in many communities—mostly small towns—located along the US/Mexico border. As far as we can tell, it’s made up mostly of good-hearted people who, although not well off themselves, are committed to helping those less fortunate than they are.
So far we’ve found no other instances where the organization has been involved in any kind of criminal or suspicious behavior. Thank you.”
With that, Casey sank back onto her chair, and Joanna rose to her feet. “Any questions?” she asked.
Detective Howell was the first to respond.
“Having reports of Xavier Delgado being seen in Mr. Roper’s Free Store, possibly expressing an interest in a pair of high-topped sneakers, may seem like flimsy circumstantial evidence, but here’s the rest of the story.
When the ME removed Xavier Delgado’s body from the duffel bag, he was wearing a single high-topped sneaker, one that was at least two sizes too large for him.
Its mate was found loose in the bag with the shoelace missing.
That may be why the shoe fell off in the first place—because someone had removed the shoelace. ”
“Thank you, Deb,” Joanna said. “As the mother of a kid who still loves his high-topped Keds, I can tell you that lacing and unlacing those are a pain in the neck. I can assure you that I’ve never once bought shoes that were two sizes too large, with the expectation that Dennis would grow into them.
But a kid four or five years old? If he saw a pair of shoes that he wanted, he wouldn’t be looking at the sizes.
He’d be looking at the shoes. As for our killer?
If this guy really is a repeat offender, he might be using the shoelace as a trophy. ”
A moment of complete silence followed.
“What are the next steps then?” Jaime Carbajal asked after a moment.
“Most of the time in a case like this, we’d be out on the streets talking to friends and neighbors of the suspect to see if they’d noticed anything out of the ordinary, but again we can’t do that without letting Roper know we’re onto him.
Not only that, his residence on Country Club Drive is so isolated that putting him under any kind of surveillance isn’t feasible. ”
Garth Raymond raised his hand. “What about trash DNA?” he asked.
“Good suggestion,” Casey said. “I’ll check with Waste Management. If he has an account with them, I’ll find out what day it’s collected.”
“When’s Roper’s next scheduled visit to the migrant camp?” Jaime asked.
“According to Captain Pena, it’ll be next Friday, a week from today,” Joanna told them. “Arturo assures me that while Roper is in Sonora, his guys will have eyes on him.”
“Between now and then we have to sit on our hands waiting to see if he grabs another kid?” Tom Hadlock asked. “That sucks!”
“I agree,” Joanna said. “It does suck.”
But Tom was on a roll. “What time does the Free Store truck come back across the border?”
“Early to midafternoon,” Casey answered.
“That means this must have happened in broad daylight with plenty of people coming and going,” Tom continued. “How the hell did he smuggle the kid across the border without anyone noticing? If somebody had tried to grab me when I was that age, I would have screamed bloody murder.”
“Maybe Xavier went willingly because he was bribed with something he wanted—like the shoes, for instance,” Deb suggested. “Or maybe he was incapacitated.”
“According to Dr. Baldwin, he had a perimortem contusion that might have rendered him unconscious.”
The room went quiet once more. “Anything else?” Joanna asked, but when she examined the somber faces gathered around the table, no one answered.
“Okay,” she said. “This is where we are. Until we know for sure that Stephen Roper is our suspect, he remains a person of interest. It’s possible that another informant may come forward with additional information, so keep your eyes open and ears to the ground.
Who knows? We might get lucky, because luck is what it’s going to take to get justice for Xavier Delgado and his grieving mother—luck and a whole lot of hard work. ”
Joanna Brady was the last person to leave the conference room.
Before she exited, she made sure that every vestige of Stephen Roper’s name had been erased from the whiteboard.
When it came to possible leakers, there was nothing to say the culprit couldn’t be a janitor as opposed to one of her officers, and she didn’t want to take any chances.