Missing: The Oregon City Girls. Rick Watson
her biological dad?”
“I think she tried to. She didn’t really come out and say ‘Hey, this is what’s going on.’ I remember a couple of years ago she came to me and started crying. And I was like, ‘Okay, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?’ She wanted to tell me, but she just goes, ‘Nothing, nothing.’ And I was like, ‘Okay, you’re not going to cry this hard just because of nothing.’ But she wouldn’t tell me anything. And then later we find out what her dad had been doing to her all the time, so I think she was trying to tell me about it, but she just couldn’t get it out. I think she was too scared to come out and be like ‘this is what’s happening to me.’”
That last statement hits Linda hard, unleashing previously buried feelings dating back to her own childhood. Until this moment she had blocked her memories of certain incidents. Terror and sadness rush through her body like ice water. She remembers how she asked herself: why would anyone believe her word over an adult male’s? After all, adults had all the power. Her mind revolves and her panicked heart races. She recalls the twelve-year-old Linda sitting on an adult man’s lap, locked in an open mouth kiss. She never told on him; he said it was a secret. Suddenly, she remembers she’s on the phone with Suzie. Holding back tears, Linda says, “Um, sweetie, were there any things she did tell you about?”
The girl pauses at the sudden change in Linda’s voice, but isn’t sure that she should ask. “Well, yeah…she eventually told me what her dad did to her. I remember we were upstairs. I asked her if she was okay about everything that happened…And then she just starts telling me about like when her dad had done all these awful things and also exactly the things he did to her.”
Linda hugs herself and forces her voice to be even and calm. “What about her mom? Did Ashley tell her mom about what happened?”
“I’m not sure, but I don’t think she did. Not right away anyway, cause of all the problems with her mom. But, me and her were really close then; I think I would have known before her mom. She told me that she was really upset, but that she was scared to tell anyone.”
“I know these things are really hard to share. Thank you for talking to me about it.” Linda pauses and her mind turns to someone else she’d been thinking about, “By the way, did Ashley ever tell you about anything Ward Weaver might have done to her?”
“She never really told me anything about him and I know that’s funny, because she was over at his house so much, especially last year. I do remember her saying…no, I think it was her mom who told me that he was the one that took her on vacation with him or whatever. She even had keys to his house for a while. But anyway, something awful happened when they got back from that vacation and when she told her mom about it her mom just says like, ‘Well don’t go over there any more.’ Like that would take care of it. And Ashley says, ‘Well, duh!’ She was really mad at her mom. She told me her mom ‘just didn’t get it.’”
“Okay honey, I’ll let you go. Be brave, and if I hear from your mom or dad I’ll tell them to get back right away.”
“Oh, wait! Linda, I hear a car. Yes, yes! They just drove up! Everything’s fine now! Do you need to talk to them?”
“No, that’s okay. And good luck, Suzie.”
After Linda hangs up, she paces around the house, reviewing all she’s found out and trying to put a perspective on so many details that are tumbling in her mind. She remembers Oliver’s briefing and rushes to her fax machine. It has run completely out of paper. But a treasure-trove of documents lies in a wrinkled stack all full of many new avenues to pursue. She will now be able to create her own “Persons of Interest” list.
She turns to Paul Fairchild, the mysterious Molalla man with the Virginia license plates. He was from the same location where two girls had evaporated into thin air. Was it a coincidence?
And what about Ashley’s father, Wesley Roettger? He had been charged with forty counts of child rape and sodomy. Yet he was allowed to plea bargain down to one count of attempted unlawful penetration of a minor and received no jail time. Why?
Linda decides that there are basically four avenues of investigation to seriously pursue. First, the Molalla man. Second, Ashley’s birth dad and the reasons that he was allowed to plea bargain down to probation with no jail time. Third, Ward Weaver and the allegations that Ashley made against him. And fourth, the real story behind the supposedly helpful Internet sites that have popped up. Suddenly, a dark thought crosses her mind. Could the kidnapper be using an Internet site to keep track of what people knew and if the officials were getting close?
Linda is determined to discover what really happened to the Oregon City girls. And after watching the sadness of her extended family, Miranda’s mother and the widening sphere of fearful parents in the community, she knows it better be soon. It’s late at night and she’s exhausted, but sleep is getting harder to come by—visions of another missing girl chase it away.
April 7, 2002, is a cloudy, cool Saturday. Linda has given herself a little time off to clear her mind and think through what she’s learned so far about the girls’ disappearance. Early afternoon finds Linda fiddling with several hanging plants that dangle from the front porch of her home. She yanks a few weeds and squirts some water, then looks up to see a bright red BMW Z-3 roadster pull into the front driveway, its top down and her husband Philip at the wheel. She is shocked and shouts, “No, no, you didn’t, you didn’t!”
Philip turns the engine off and motions for Linda to come closer. “I told you I was going to do it, and I did it. Don’t worry, I can handle the payments.”
After he climbs out Linda steps back a bit and casts glances around the vehicle. “Good grief! Your image just got the million dollar makeover!” She turns her attention to her tired car parked nearby. “And I’m still stuck with that frumpy green machine.”
Philip laughs. “If you be nice to me, I might let you drive mine once or twice a month.”
Their attention is diverted when a Dodge minivan full of vacant child car seats pulls up next to the sports car. White lettering on the door reads, “Maria’s Custom Child Care.” Philip’s daughter, Maria, sticks her head out the driver’s window and tosses a comment to her dad and Linda. “So you really went and bought it, huh, Dad?” She gets out of her car and slips into the driver’s seat of the Beamer. “Can I borrow it tonight, Daddyo?”
Philip opens the door and gently assists her exit. “Nobody is getting their mitts on this car until I have her broken in.”
The front door to the house swings open, releasing Linda and Philip’s energetic kids who swoop over to the red BMW grunting remarks of approval. Philip beams with pride. “You guys were the only ones that really knew I was getting her for sure.”
The boys laugh. Linda runs her hand along the smooth surface of the fenders. “I hardly ever see you as it is, but hell! You’ll never want to be home now that you’ve got this baby.”
“That baby’s already got a name,” Philip smiles proudly. “Marilyn.”
“Huh?”
“Marilyn. I’m naming her Marilyn, and she’s always going to be my special girl, uh, well, next to my beautiful wife, that is.”
Linda and Philip’s sons donate a few more comments about how much they love the new car before dashing back into the house to resume a PlayStation contest. Suddenly, Maria’s expression changes and she pulls a folded letter from her purse and hands it to her stepmother. “Linda, I almost forgot in the excitement over the car why I came over. I think you and Dad should take a look at this. It’s a letter that Lori got from a dog handler, Harry Oakes. He also sent a copy of this letter to the cops. It’s about Ashley.”
After studying it for a few moments