Eagle Creek: A Mystery Novel

By R.J. Bales

Cody Crosby grew up as a Boy Scout who was awarded the Eagle Scout rank and inducted into the honorary Boy Scout Order of the Arrow. He became a responsible adult who had no use for anyone who would commit senseless crimes--such as raping, brutalizing, and killing his best friend's fiancee.

Cody uncovered clues that led to the arrest and conviction of the perpetrator, but several murders followed, although the killer was still in jail, eventually dying of cancer. Cody thought the murders were related to the convict. But then Cody received a note. He was next--unless he could solve the mystery of who the murderer was.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Fulton Books, Inc.
• Release date: Dec 7, 2021
• ISBN: 9781637102169

Book preview

Chapter 1

Maybe I should have waited until the stitches were removed from my head injuries. My eyesight in the left eye wasn’t 100 percent yet, but most of the bruising had subsided. The knife wound in my left side was healing satisfactorily, although it still stung.

Nevertheless, early autumn was a beautiful time in the Columbia River Gorge between Oregon and Washington. It was mid-September of 1989. The temperatures were moderate, the winds were calm, and there was plenty of sunshine. The gorge was filled with lush hiking trails and stunning water fall vistas.

I couldn’t think of a better place to be than hiking the Eagle Creek Trail. It was the most popular hiking trail in the gorge because of its numerous waterfalls and unique challenges.

I needed to do something physical to ease the emotional pain I felt.

The trailhead was a forty-five-minute drive from The Dalles, Oregon, a small city of about 13,000 inhabitants. It was primarily a farming community with wheat ranches and fruit farmers located midway across Oregon, on the Columbia River.

In my day pack was my usual lunch, a first-aid kit, a book, a water bottle, a flashlight, a binocular, and a light jacket. My destination was Punch Bowl Falls, a little over two miles up the Eagle Creek Trail. It connects with the Pacific Crest Trail near Wahtum Lake. The PCT, as it’s known, runs between Mexico and Canada—2,659 miles. Those who hike the entire trail start in early spring, generally at the Mexican border, and finish in the fall.

The Eagle Creek Gorge was narrow with tall basalt cliffs. Sunshine doesn’t linger long in the Eagle Creek Gorge, making it a great place to hike during the warm summer months. The Eagle Creek trail starts out level and gains altitude fast. The lower portion was blasted out of a basalt rock cliff in 1910. Within half a mile, I was high above the gorge. The incredible beauty of mother nature and the roar of the creek far below were mesmerizing. It was here that I first encountered the identical twins, one of which was responsible for my numerous wounds.

When I reached Punch Bowl Falls, I found a comfortable place to sit and eat my sack lunch. It was the same place I sat and had lunch as a Boy Scout. I read some of Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen before I relaxed against the tree trunk.

I was eleven years old at the time I met the twins. I lived in Vancouver, Washington, at the time. My mother was looking for a safe outlet for what she considered my excessive energy. She enlisted me in the army—an army of Boy Scouts with an ex-army drill sergeant, Mr. George Eidemiller, as scoutmaster.

My first excursion as a Boy Scout was a hike from Wahtum Lake down the Eagle Creek Gorge to the trailhead near the Bridge of the Gods. I was only eleven in the spring of 1955. Despite my concerns, Dad and Mom thought it would be a wonderful experience.

In my defense, I asked, Sleeping with bears, mountain lions, raccoons, and other varmints?

"Yup. Just like Daaavy Crockett," Dad said with a sly grin.

But I don’t have any backpacking gear.

Mr. Eidemiller gave me a list of things you’ll need. You and I get to go shopping at the Boy Scout C-store, Mom said.

Oh.

My folks drove a load of Boy Scouts to Wahtum Lake. I felt uneasy when they hugged and kissed me goodbye.

Mom looked as if she somewhat agreed with me. We’ll see you Sunday afternoon, hon. Have a wonderful time. You’ll be okay. Mr. Eidemiller will take good care of you.

Once we set up our campsites, we fixed dinner over an open firepit. Then took a hike around Wahtum Lake, looking for bears and other critters, before turning in. I didn’t sleep a lot. I listened for strange noises; there were many.

Saturday morning, we fixed breakfast, washed our mess gear, broke camp, and headed down the Eagle Creek Trail. Not long after we got started, I began to notice the beauty of the great outdoors. It certainly made an impression on me. I watched for wildlife and listened for waterfalls.

Midway to Seven-Mile Camp, we stopped for lunch. Afterward, we continued on toward Seven-Mile Camp. When we reached our campsite, we set up tents before fixing dinner. One Boy Scout found a fish line complete with a fishhook. He baited it and tied it to a little branch he cut. Jamie caught a small trout out of Eagle Creek. He had the best dinner of all.

Sunday morning, we ate breakfast and had church service. Afterward, we began the hike down what Sergeant Eidemiller said was some of the most scenic portions of the Eagle Creek Trail—Tunnel Falls, Metlako Falls, Loowit Falls, and Punch Bowl Falls to name a few.

When we approached Tunnel Falls, Sergeant Eidemiller stopped and faced the scouts. To be heard over the sound of the falls, he had to raise his voice. He talked slowly. Around this bend is Tunnel Falls. Get your cameras ready. After you’ve taken a picture or two, move on to the other side of the falls so the scouts behind you can get a picture. We’ll regroup on the other side. The trail actually goes behind the falls through a cave-like opening.

A little over a mile later, we came to Punch Bowl Falls. It was a stunning place to stop for lunch. After we ate, Sergeant Eidemiller cautioned, We will be coming to the most treacherous part of the trail. There is a cable attached to the rock wall to hold on to. I suggest you do so. The gorge is steep and has a high cliff. If any of you have problems with it, let me know. Okay. Load ’em up. Move ’em out.

When we came to the narrow part of the trail, one Scout did have a problem. Little Kenny Mason had a terrible fear of heights. He was hugging the cliff and holding on to the cable with a terrified look on his face. Cliff and Craig Callahan, identical twins, were hiking behind him, taunting him. One of the twins grabbed Kenny by the shoulders and pushed him toward the edge of the cliff. Kenny tripped on a rock jutting up in the trail and fell. He grabbed whatever he could but nearly went over the edge. Kenny broke out in tears. One twin howled with laughter and made faces at him.

When Sergeant Eidemiller heard someone crying, he stopped. He hurried back to where Kenny was and helped him up. Are you all right, Kenny? What happened?

I don’t like heights, he cried. And someone shoved me. I tripped on a rock…

Sergeant Eidemiller looked around. Did anyone see what happened?

Without thinking, I said, Yes, sir, I did. One of the twins was bugging Kenny. He grabbed him by the shoulders and shoved him toward the cliff. That’s when he fell.

One twin gave me an angry look as if he would throw me over the cliff if given the chance. I was glad he didn’t go to the same elementary school I did.

For a moment, Sergeant Eidemiller stared at the twins. All right. Cliff and Craig, go to the front of the line and wait. He turned to Kenny. Hold on to my hand, Kenny. You can hike behind me. We’ll get through this together.

When Sergeant Eidemiller reached the front of the line behind the twins, I could tell by his hands on his hips, his head tilted to the side, and the look on his face that he was giving the twins a firm reprimand. Then he looked back up the trail.

Okay. Move ’em out. He made the twins call cadence all the way to the trailhead. Hup, hup, hup, two, three…

When we reached the trailhead, Dad and Mom were waiting to take a load of Boy Scouts back to The Dalles. Mr. and Mrs. Callahan, the twins’ parents, were there as well. Mr. Eidemiller went over to the Callahans to tell them about the incident with Kenny. Mrs. Callahan began to cry; Mr. Callahan appeared angry. Only the twins rode with them.

That was only the beginning.

Chapter 2

When it was time to start home, I hiked slowly, occasionally stopping to get a panoramic view of the natural history of the area. I took several pictures. Indian legend had it that there was a natural bridge across the Columbia River near the location of the Pacific Crest Trail. It did seem possible. The Columbia River was narrow at that point. The Indians called it Bridge of the Gods.

Geologists also believed the bridge existed. It apparently was created by a landslide between the lava cliffs of Table Mountain and the north wall of the Columbia River Gorge somewhere between AD 1100 and 1250, perhaps the result of an earthquake or volcanic eruptions.

According to Native Americans, the bridge was high enough to provide passage from one side of the river to the other. The Columbia River backed up into Eastern Oregon, Washington, and Idaho. The dam eventually collapsed around the 1690s and flooded much of western Oregon, including the Willamette Valley and southwest Washington. Farms would later benefit from the rich soil that ensued.

After the earthen dam collapsed, the river was a raging torrent of rapids through the narrow gorge. Between 1878 and 1896, locks were constructed to provide passage through the Cascade Rapids. It was how the little town of Cascade Locks got its name. The locks were submerged in 1938 when the Bonneville Dam was completed.

Native American folklore had a somewhat different version. Manito, the Great Spirit, built a stone bridge across the river so the Indians could pass from one side to the other. Manito then sent to earth three sons, a trio of great snow mountains—Mount Rainier (Multnomah, the warrior), Mount Adams (Klickitat, the totem maker), and Mount Hood (Wyeast, the singer). An old but wise woman (Loo-Wit) was guardian of the Great Crossing.

Sleeping Beauty (Squaw Mountain) is a small mountain to the west of Mount Adams. The Indians believed Squaw Mountain caused a war of jealousy between Mount Adams and Mount Hood. Their hot rock throwing and earth shaking caused the stone bridge to collapse. Loo-Wit was unable to stop the war, but the Great Spirit rewarded her faithfulness by making her young and beautiful again. Manito turned her into a beautiful mountain, Mount Saint Helens.

Even this late in the season, there were many others enjoying the Eagle Creek Trail. After my hike, there was the East Wind, an ice cream fast-food restaurant in Cascade Locks. High pressure off the West Coast increases in the spring. With low pressure on the east side of the Cascades, wind blew up the gorge, hence the name East Wind. The little adjoining park was full of people downing their favorite ice cream dessert. It made for a great finish to a hike on a beautiful autumn day. I had almost forgotten why I had come here—almost.

Chapter 3

Trouble with the identical twins didn’t stop with the hike down the Eagle Creek Trail. The following Monday night was the weekly Boy Scout meeting. The twins were waiting for me outside the entrance. As I started through the door, one of the twins gave me a shove that almost knocked me on my keister.

Sergeant Eidemiller was standing inside the doorway. He grabbed the arm of the offending twin. Craig, Cliff, come with me. They headed for the office. Sergeant Eidemiller came back fifteen minutes later. When he called the Scouts to attention, the twins weren’t there.

In early August of 1955, I had turned twelve years old. Sergeant Eidemiller cornered me at the Monday evening meeting. Cody, are you going to summer camp at Spirit Lake this summer? You’re one of a few who hasn’t signed up yet. I need to know before next Monday.

I have to play baseball in Little League, I lied. Baseball was the first indication I had about my height being less than average. I played shortstop. The second baseman, Gregory, called me short stuff.

When I complained to Mom, she said, It’s okay, hon. You’re average height for a short person.

Oh.

Sergeant Eidemiller called Mom the next day and asked if there was any reason I couldn’t go to summer camp.

The next Monday night, Sergeant Eidemiller put his hand on my shoulder and said, Your mom says she could use a vacation. Lyle Hanford will be at your house at ten o’clock Saturday morning—the day before we leave—to help you pack.

Big Lyle arrived on time. We packed everything that was on the Scout list. Sunday morning, Dad and Mom deposited me at the Boy Scout Center. There were two deuce-and-half-ton trucks borrowed from the army ready to haul our equipment. I thought about how much I would miss playing baseball. There were bears, cougars, and other animals in those woods. Big Lyle told me so. He told me all about Ole One-Eye, a huge ape that escaped from a circus truck that overturned on the way to Seattle. Big Lyle said someone shot one of his eyes out as the ape headed for the woods.

Snarling a little, Big Lyle said, That’s why they call him Ole One-Eye. Now he hates people so much he kills them just for the fun of it. Eats a few if he’s hungry. There isn’t an animal in the woods that ain’t afraid of ’um. Why, he was seen near Strawberry Mountain just two days ago. I was stupefied, a little scared. Okay, a lot scared.

While we were loading the trucks, I asked Big Lyle why they called it Spirit Lake.

The Indians who lived around the lake named it Spirit Lake because the rocks float, the logs sink, and waves appear out of nowhere.

Are there any Indians there now?

No, not that I know of.

Where did they go?

Only the spirits know for sure. It could be another reason they call it Spirit Lake. His eyes got big as he turned and looked at me. Maybe Ole One-Eye had something to do with it.

I was getting more anxious by the minute. What if Ole-One Eye comes looking for somebody to eat?

They have lookouts along the ridge above the lake. Hopefully, they’ll see him before he gets into our camp.

What would the lookouts do if they saw him? The Boy Scouts don’t have guns, do they?

They set off small explosives to scare him away, but he’s even getting used to them.

Scared a lot didn’t cover it. I was terrified.

Dad and Mom volunteered to drive a load of Boy Scouts to the lake.

As I crawled into the back seat, Mom turned around and looked at me with a smile that turned to a look of concern. Hon, you look awfully pale. Are you feeling all right?

I nodded my head, wondering if I should have used that as an out.

Driving north up I-5, Mount Saint Helens loomed large. We turned east at Castle Rock onto the Spirit Lake Highway. Soon we came to Silver Lake, where Dad and Mom liked to fish. Spirit Lake was still an hour or so away.

There was no road into the Boy Scout camp, only to the head of the U-shaped lake and the Spirit Lake Lodge. The Boy Scout camp was up the southernmost arm. A transfer barge would take us there.

After loading the barge, we headed across the beautiful, picturesque Spirit Lake. Mount Saint Helens was at the head of the lake at the west end. The scent of the huge pine, fir, and hemlock trees was in the air. Wildflowers lined the shore. The lake was a beautiful, clear blue, making it easy to see clear to the bottom. It was so serene. I was beginning to lose some of my anxiety.

The Boy Scout camp was situated in an inlet. We unloaded at the Scout dock and began setting up our camp sites. After our campsites were established, we were to meet at the Boy Scout lodge to go over the week’s activities and the rules that must be obeyed. There was canoeing, row boating, swimming, fishing, and hiking up Strawberry Mountain. Above the lodge flew a large American flag with the Boy Scout flag beneath it.

On the itinerary was an overnight canoe trip to Harmony Falls and activities with the Girl Scouts. They had a lodge not far from ours.

First, we had work to do. The lodge needed to be cleaned and trails cleared of brush. Then we were to help do the same over at the Girl Scout lodge in exchange for dinner and a dance Tuesday evening.

I looked around the Boy Scout lodge; it was like it had been honed out of the local trees. A sign on the wall was by an old Cherokee Indian about two wolves.

An old Cherokee is teaching his grandson about life…

A fight is going on inside me, he said to the boy. "It is a terrible fight going on between two wolves. One is evil—he is anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego. The other is good—he is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, and faith.

"The same fight is going on in you—and in every other person, too.

The grandson thought about it for a minute; then asked his grandfather, Which wolf will win?

The old Cherokee simply replied, The one you feed.

The hike up Strawberry Mountain on Monday was exhausting. I kept watching for signs of Ole One-Eye. The lodge had a Boy Scout post, where you could buy toiletries, candy, gum, and other similar items. When we got back to camp, I bought a candy bar to keep with me in case I got hungry during the night. That was against rule no. 3.

After campfire that night, I surveyed the tent for unwelcome visitors. Big Lyle told me Ole One-Eye had a distinct odor and not a pleasant one. I sniffed the air. Then I curled up in my sleeping bag.

During the night, I heard some strange sounds as if someone or something was eating, crunching. I slowly reached for my flashlight and turned it on. I was eyeball to eyeball with a rat that was feasting on my candy bar. Instinctively, I used the flashlight as a weapon and struck with a vengeance, destroying the flashlight. The rat made a clean getaway—with my candy bar. I now understood the reason behind rule no. 3: No food in the tents.

Chapter 4

Icould see the logs on the bottom of the lake on the hike over to the Girl Scout Lodge Tuesday afternoon. They were waterlogged; the rocks that float. I saw waves rising on the lake without a breeze in the air. The forest was alive with all kinds of birds, squirrels, raccoons, and other animals. And somewhere out there was Ole One-Eye. It wasn’t long before I had forgotten about baseball—but not Ole One-Eye.

The dinner at the Girl Scout Lodge was wonderful; the dance, even better, especially with a girl named Virginia. She looked nice in her Girl Scout uniform. Her blond hair…there was no doubt Virginia was cute. She smiled at me and asked me if I wanted to dance.

We danced several dances to current popular hits. Suddenly, something caught her attention. She asked, Who is that guy harassing my friend Charlene?

I wasn’t surprised when I turned to see. That’s one of the Callahan twins. I don’t know which one. They’re identical.

Charlene had wavy brunette hair. She looked mature for her age. It was obvious why the Callahan twin was attracted to her. The twin grabbed Charlene by her elbow and pulled her outdoors, presumably not to raise the attention of the chaperons. Later, the twin came back in—alone.

I looked at Virginia. We should go find Charlene. Something doesn’t seem right.

We went around to the side of the lodge, where we heard someone crying.

Virginia called out, Charlene, is that you? It’s Virginia and Cody. Are you all right?

Charlene was hiding in the brush behind a tree. No! Can you bring me some clothes? From my bunk room? I’m… Please?

Sure. New clothes? What happened?

I’ll tell you…when you get back. Stay put, Cody. I’m not presentable.

I paused, trying to think of how I could help her or what to say. Charlene, would you mind telling me if what happened to you involved one of the Boy Scouts? He should be punished if it was.

Charlene sobbed, It was one of those twins, but I don’t know which one.

Thank you. I’ll let Sergeant Eidemiller know. He’ll take care of it. You should let your troop leader know too. She can talk to Sergeant Eidemiller.

Okay. I’ll think about it. Will my parents find out?

I don’t know. You can ask your Girl Scout leader about that. Here’s Virginia. I’m going back inside.

Thanks, Cody.

I wanted to have it out with the twin, but I had to control myself. The twins were much bigger than I was. I did have the advantage of being more athletic. I thought it best to wait until the Girl Scout leader heard from Charlene before I talked to Sergeant Eidemiller.

The next morning after breakfast, I found Sergeant Eidemiller and told him what Virginia and I knew about the incident.

You may receive a visit from the Girl Scout leader too.

Later that afternoon, I went down to the post to mail Mom and Dad a letter. I saw the Girl Scout leader headed for the Boy Scout lodge. She looked upset. Later, she emerged from the lodge, still looking unhappy. Sergeant Eidemiller came out right behind her with a similar expression.

When he saw me, he asked, Have you seen the Callahan twins?

No, but I’ll help find them.

Thanks, Cody. You take the waterfront.

Half an hour later, I saw Sergeant Eidemiller as he commandeered the motorboat. He set out for what I assumed was the Spirit Lake Lodge. Before dinner, I saw him pull back into the inlet. After docking, he headed straight for the twins’ tent.

The next morning, about 10:30 a.m., a transfer barge arrived. Sergeant Eidemiller and the twins with all their gear were loaded onto the barge. Apparently, Sergeant Eidemiller had called their parents and informed them of the problem. The twins were on their way home.

I didn’t know if they were aware of my involvement, but it didn’t matter. I later learned they had been expelled from the troop.

Chapter 5

Spirit Lake was an unbelievable experience with the exception of what happened to Charlene. Hopefully, she would be okay. Charlene didn’t want