As a Westminster police detective, when Donnie worked on a case in the initial stages, he often had leads and clues to draw from. Usually culled from the crime scene where he would study and absorb all presented before him. The body of the victim and the wounds that felled them. If he were lucky, a murder weapon and other clues would be left behind. Often a suspect or two, though it might take time before they became a person of interest. With all he viewed, he could visually imagine in his head how the crime went down and the actions which led to the killing. A graphic, painted picture would form in his mind. All the pieces would fit like a puzzle he would carefully craft to build his case.
The Enzo Rivera investigation would be different. A cold case abandoned with no hope, or if what the parents said was true, the police had no desire to solve. There would be no active crime scene to absorb. No victim to study or evidence to gather. He would literally be working cold with the minimal data gathered and pictures taken. If he could even obtain them, since attempts by the Rivera family and their lawyer had been stonewalled by the authorities. It would take a herculean effort to retrieve them. Donnie Steel knew he would be facing a monumental challenge.
His first stop later in the day would be to talk with the Riveras’ lawyer. Preston Rush had an office in the middle of Walsenburg. A small town of about three thousand people which was the county seat of Huerfano County.
After a lunch of ham, Swiss, lettuce, and mayo on whole wheat, Donnie backed his matte black Honda Rebel out of the trailer. The motorcycle was custom equipped with a side car and windshield for Kogel to travel in, with a safety belt latched to his Service Dog harness. A pair of goggles to protect his eyes. Quite a sight, with heads turning when they drove down the road.
Donnie changed into his riding gear. Black leather jacket and gloves, heavy blue jeans, and boots. A full faced helmet with excellent air vents. He got Kogel situated in the side car, fired up the motorcycle, and drove out of the campground.
Once he exited Lathrop State Park, he was cruising at fifty-five on US Highway 160 until he reached the outskirts of Walsenburg. He traveled until he saw the Main Street sign and turned left until he found a parking spot near the corner of Main and West 5th. The lawyer’s office catty-corner from the Historic Huerfano County Courthouse, perfectly positioned for potential clients.
With his helmet and Kogel’s goggles stored away, they traversed to the second business from the corner with a sign reading Preston Rush: Law Offices. They traversed through the door and found a small space with papers stacked high on one desk, banks of filing cabinets, a free-standing multifunction printer, sofa, and several chairs. In the back a man sat at a second desk. He was leaning back on his chair, feet up, talking on his phone. He motioned to take a seat and held up three fingers. Donnie sat on a padded chair, Kogel on the floor next to him.
Preston Rush was a touch on the heavy side. He wore dark jeans and a long-sleeved, button-down, powder blue shirt; a few open buttons which revealed a mop of dark chest hair. He couldn’t have been any older than thirty-five, which meant he probably didn’t have a lot of experience. Though from the stacks of paper, it looked as if he was a busy man.
“You better tell your client to make a deal or we’ll be going to court.” Preston bellowed into the phone slamming a hand on the desk. “I’m not screwing around anymore. My client wants payment for the damages your client did plus my fees, otherwise it will cost him a whole lot more.”
Preston pulled his feet off the desk and placed the handset on the phone base, before he stood. He couldn’t have been more than 5’8”, though the heel on his shoes added to his stature. He extended his hand and introduced himself.
Donnie shook his hand. “I’m Donnie Steel. We talked on the phone. I’m here on behalf of the Riveras.”
Like a comb, Rush ran both sets of fingers to part his black hair down the middle. “Yes, I remember. They said to help you in any way I can.” He looked down at the floor. “And who is this?”
“Kogel. He will be helping me in the investigation.”
“I must say he looks intimidating. I’d hate to have him chasing me.”
“You wouldn’t get far.”
Kogel sat up, knowing he was being talked about. Donnie petted the back of his head.
“Alvaro told me you plan on looking into their son’s murder. Correct?”
“Yes. I hoped you could give me more details. They were a little light with their information. They had a hard time verbalizing the events.”
Rush leaned against his desk. “They went through hell and back trying to get answers. No one wanted to help with the case.”
“Short of his name, where he lived and worked, and who some of his friends were, they didn’t supply much else.”
Rush moved to the other desk and removed a folder from the top of the stacks. He handed it to Donnie.
“Here is what I have. Good thing you called in advance. I had to dig to find the file, since it’s been a long time since I’ve accessed it.” Rush leaned back against the desk. “I suggest you read through it first and then we can talk further. If you want copies, I’ll be glad to make them for you.”
There were quite a few papers to look through, but he had time. “May I sit on your couch and read?”
“Sure. I have other work to do. And I need to finish my sandwich. Eating is always a luxury for me. Since my assistant quit, there is little time these days. Finding her replacement has been challenging.” Rush waved at the piles of paper. “Hence the mess you see. Organization is not my strong suit.”
Donnie sat on the sofa, Kogel again at his feet. From his coat pocket he pulled out a hard, marrow-filled bone and gave it to the dog to chew. He opened the folder, hoping it was in some type of order. He soon found out this wasn’t true, which confirmed what Rush said about his lack of organizational skills. He decided to go through each page first and then create his own order.
Once he got the papers in a logical sequence, he began to read. First was the signed contract Rush had from the Riveras to help represent them on behalf of their son. A cancelled check attached as a payment in the amount of three thousand dollars. The contract was full of legalese he didn’t care to read. He’d had enough of it as a cop.
Next was the initial police report from the Rio Celeste law enforcement. The printed details said Enzo Rivera had been found dead in an open field west of Walsenburg within the Rio Celeste town border. The body was fully clothed and in the beginnings of decay. Apparently, it had been days before it was found. No obvious signs of trauma were given or an explanation of how the body ended up there. No initial conclusion was drawn about what caused Enzo’s death, and the investigation was ongoing. A notation explained the work van he was driving was found close by, with no useful evidence found inside. The report had a date and time which went back slightly more than three years. It appeared to have been signed by Officer Warren, though the handwriting was horrible, so Donnie couldn’t say for certain. There was no printed version of the name, which was odd. For an official police report, it was sloppily written, lacking details and physical evidence. A report like this would never have been accepted by Donnie’s superiors when he was in the force.
Then a second report was filed two weeks later again by Officer Warren. This multi-page paper claimed, after a thorough investigation, he couldn’t determine an exact cause of death. The report said the coroner’s results were inconclusive. Though the coroner’s name wasn’t listed. Written speculation Enzo either died from exposure or a drug overdose.
The second theory, born from interviews with friends, claimed he was a user of narcotics, though there were no blood tests to back this up. All and all, no concrete answers were given to what killed Enzo. The case would remain open, but Officer Warren didn’t hold out hope of it ever being resolved. Three years later the how’s and why’s of his killing languished with no answers.
What bothered Donnie most were the items missing from the file. There were no toxicology reports. No crime scene photos of where Enzo was killed or of the abandoned van. No detailed coroner’s report or audio recording of the findings. No witness statements, since they claimed to have talked to Enzo’s friends. All of this should be standard procedure and been provided.
The next set of pages were documents filed by Preston Rush with Huerfano County to get more information on the case. The request for a coroner report, toxicology tests, interviews with witnesses and friends, and any physical evidence found at the crime scene or in the abandoned van including photos taken. These filings were made several times, each one denied or bumped, the lawyer being told to plead his case with the Rio Celeste police which was baffling.
“I can see by the look on your face, you’re confused by what you’re reading,” Rush said.
“I am. I don’t think I’ve seen anything like this before. This is shoddy work by those investigating.”
Rush leaned back in his chair, sandwich in hand. “I agree, and I argued this point until I was blue in the face. It’s almost as if they didn’t want the truth to be told.”
This had been Donnie’s impression too. “The report is complete crap. There is nothing in here which gives a reason about the loose conjectures they made about his death. Did you ever interview his friends about his drug use?”
“They wouldn’t talk with my investigator. Other than possibly an occasional joint, the Riveras were adamant he didn’t do drugs.”
Donnie knew what parents thought was true about their kids and what was reality, was often distorted. In this day and age of legal marijuana, recreational drug use was not uncommon. Though no one had ever died from an overdose of pot.
“Did you get an independent coroner to do his own examination?”
“We couldn’t. Before turning the body over to the family, they cremated it. All we got was an urn of ashes.”
Donnie’s head rocked back in surprise. “You’ve got to be kidding!”
“All true. They claimed it was the law of their land. Some crap reason about burning and cleansing the soul.” Rush took a bite of his sandwich and swallowed. “We had no idea if it was Enzo inside. For all we know it could have been campfire ash. You can see why the family was driven to get more information.”
Donnie held up the sheet he’d been reading. “I see the town listed was Rio Celeste. I’ve never heard of it before.”
“Most haven’t. Though it has a well-known intimidating reputation around here. It’s a town of several hundred people. They claim to be their own country with their own laws and rules. They don’t recognize the federal or state governments, much like the Sovereign Citizen movement. And no one around here wants to challenge them. They appear to have a lot of firepower.”
“It sounds like a cult.”
“In some ways, yes. Loosely translated, the name Rio Celeste stands for River to the Heavens which is their town motto. They have one man mainly running things, Arthur Celeste, and a governing council of other men who back him. They don’t care for outsiders messing in their business.”
Donnie had seen the name Arthur Celeste in one of the documents. “Then how is this connected to Enzo?”
“He worked for them. Drove a van and did deliveries. Of what, we never learned for certain.”
“Deliveries to where?”
“From what we know, all over. They have several vans making deliveries.”
Donnie had read the business name Celeste Products and Services. A generic brandwhich didn’t tell him a whole lot.
“Did you threaten to take them to court?”
“As you read on, you’ll find the answer. Essentially any legal moves we made, which included subpoenas, were ignored, and they wouldn’t show up in court. With no results and costs mounting, the Riveras couldn’t afford to fight on. And neither could I.”
Donnie moved onto the next pages and read the two legal filings. None of them would have any success. The judge filed a contempt of court ruling when no one from Rio Celeste showed up for the court date and threatened them with a fine, but it didn’t go any further. Essentially, the Riveras were beating their heads against a legal wall.
The next page included information on Rio Celeste and its founder, Arthur Celeste, who bought the land sixteen years ago and slowly built his town. The paperwork claimed he was worth hundreds of millions of dollars. No information on how he amassed his fortune. A loyal following, which was not unusual for a cult-like person.
Donnie moved on to a report filed with the Walsenburg police about the threat to the Riveras. One night two men wearing masks broke into their house and held guns to their heads, saying they would kill them if they didn’t back down. With only basic descriptions of the suspects and no physical evidence discovered, the local police investigation went nowhere. The report probably sat in an accumulated pile of unsolved cases.
Next was the fire department report. The Rivera’s house burning to the ground, the two barely making it out alive. The report outlined that the cause had been isolated to faulty wiring and an old house which went up like kindling. Again, the report was basic, though it did include pictures of the scene and of where it was thought the fire had started. Photos which were of no help to Donnie, since they didn’t fall into his field of expertise. The conclusions could have been accurate, but he knew coincidences like this were hard to ignore.
“What were your thoughts on the threats against the Riveras and their house burning down?”
Rush swallowed down the last bite of his sandwich and brushed the crumbs off his shirt. “My thoughts were, I wished there was an avenue for me to assist them. I felt helpless. Hell, this office was broken into. They spray painted some nasty stuff on my walls and windows.”
“Like what?”
“I’m Jewish, so I’m sure you can imagine.”
Donnie could, for he’d seen horrible things painted on businesses and houses of worship many times through the years. It always made him angry when he saw this type of disgusting behavior. Religious and racial hate, which seemingly never lessened.
“Was it these threats that got the Riveras to stop?”
“Yes. After the fire they moved to Santa Fe. I felt bad, because I wished I could have done more. I even stopped charging them. I was surprised when they called and said you were coming by. I figured it would remain unsolved. How did you meet?”
Donnie gave him the quick story of his blog and how they had connected.
“Wow…amazing. I’ll need to get the web address and check it out.”
“Do a web search for: The Musings of an Ex-Cop. It should be near the top of the results.”
Donnie looked through the last of the papers. There wasn’t much else, and as he suspected, he would be working at a disadvantage. He handed Rush the paperwork and asked for copies.
“I saw the name Berke Harlow on several of the pages. Who is he?”
Rush went to the copier. “It’s a she. She is the investigator I mentioned. Works part-time for me.”
“I’d like to talk with her. Get her perspective.”
“I can get you her phone number. She has a place east of town.”
“If you can write the number on one of the pages, I’d appreciate it. Hopefully, she is open about talking with me.”
Rush finished making copies, wrote down the phone number, placed the papers inside a folder, and handed it to Donnie. “She is a tough lady and good at what she does. I wish I had more work for her. She lives alone since her husband passed away several years ago.”
Donnie was eager to talk with her. It sounded like Berke Harlow and he had life experiences in common.