Page 39 of The Girl from Devil's Lake
On that much happier note, they ordered their respective lunches. By the time Joanna showed up at the Justice Center an hour later, she was feeling a whole lot better than she had when she’d left the county administration complex after the board meeting.
When Joanna entered the conference room at five minutes to two, she glanced around the room. Since all the invitees were already in attendance, there was no reason to wait around for the appointed start time. Closing the door behind her, she made her way to the head of the table. Usually she would have taken a seat there. This time, she remained standing.
“First off, I want everyone in the room to turn off their devices—no iPhones and no tablets.” She paused, waiting while people complied before continuing. “I’m sure you’re all wondering why you’ve been summoned to a mandatory meeting with no advance hint as to what it was about. Here’s the deal.
“Yesterday, Captain Arturo Peña, the commander of the Federales unit posted to Naco, Sonora, called me to say that a possible informant had come forward with information about the homicide victim found floating in the San Pedro River on Saturday afternoon. It turns out the informant is a woman who teaches English to the children at the local migrant camp. She overheard two of her kids talking about a young boy who had followed some older ones when they had gone to visit what they call ‘The Free Store’ on Friday morning.
“The Free Store in question isn’t a store at all. It’s a refurbished food truck, owned and operated by a local member of an organization called Hands Across the Border. Every two weeks it crosses into Mexico at the Naco point of entry on Friday mornings, bringing food, clothing, and other necessities for the people living in the camp. Earlier in the investigation, Detectives Howell and Carbajal had visited the camp, showing the kids a photo of Xavier Delgado, the boy we believe to be our murder victim.
“At the time they were interviewed by Deb and Jaime, they all claimed ignorance, but the informant overheard two of them talking, saying that the boy in the picture had followed them to the Free Store and was still inside the truck talking to the proprietor when they left. That’s the last time any of the kids saw Xavier alive. According to them, while in the truck Xavier had been particularlyinterested in a pair of high-topped sneakers. As you may or may not be aware, a pair of high-topped sneakers were found with Xavier’s body during the ME’s autopsy.
“After speaking to the informant, Captain Peña was later able to consult with border crossing personnel to confirm the identity of the driver of the truck, but here’s the problem. That individual happens to be a longtime resident of this area. He’s also someone with whom many of us have interacted over the years.
“I’ve asked Casey Ledford and Dave Hollicker to gather whatever information they can on the individual in question, and I’ll be turning the meeting over to them in a moment so they can give us their report, but before I do, I want to offer a word of caution. Not one word about our person of interest is to be mentioned or discussed with individuals not currently in this room. That includes family members as well as personnel inside this department. Evidence Dr. Baldwin discovered in the course of the autopsy—the fact that the body had been dipped in a bleach solution and the fact that Xavier’s fingernails had been cut down to the quick—suggest that our perpetrator is knowledgeable about crime scene evidence and is likely to be a repeat offender. At this point I don’t believe the person in question has any idea that we’ve made a connection between him and our victim. Until we have more solid information to go on, I want it to stay that way, understood?”
She sent a searching look around the table, focusing on each face in turn and waiting until that person nodded in agreement before moving on.
“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 foundno 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 bagwith 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.”
