If You Tell: A True Story of Murder, Family Secrets, and the Unbreakable Bond of Sisterhood(12)

Of the three kids, Dave was the hellion of Al and Shirley’s brood—messing around, stealing his dad’s smokes, even a half-hearted attempt at running away with a buddy in the fourth grade. And because of that, he was disciplined in the way his father had been. Al had a razor strap and wasn’t averse to using it on the kids if needed. Dave felt its sting more than a time or two, but never thought he didn’t deserve it. It was the way it was.

At the time, Raymond was bustling. The mills were running three shifts, and the endless supply of timber kept logging trucks on the roads all day long. The river was nearly clogged with log rafts.

In 1971, Dave graduated from Raymond High School—home of the Seagulls—with the idea that he wanted to follow in his father’s footsteps and be a logger, though his dad did his best to convince him otherwise.

“Dad didn’t want me to do any of that. Too hard. But that’s what I ended up doing.” He worked in logging for a year before enlisting in the navy.

“I wasn’t going to be a timber faller like my dad, but I enlisted in the navy like my dad had and learned to run heavy equipment. And that’s what I did for twenty-two years—running a dozer in the woods.”

The military gave Dave a much-needed boost of self-confidence. When he came home to Raymond after serving in Hawaii and Alaska, Dave Knotek was suddenly viewed as a very eligible bachelor. He was a nice-looking, athletic guy, having learned to surf in Hawaii. He had a kind, gentle personality, though he could also party. Best of all, he had a good job at timber giant Weyerhaeuser. Upon his return, he became a member of fraternal orders like the Elks and the Eagles, and his popularity surged. He got serious with a couple of local girls, but those relationships didn’t pan out.

“The girls chased me a little,” he said later with a smile.

At the time, he didn’t know that the wrong one would end up catching him.



There was no particular reason why Dave Knotek drove down to Long Beach, Washington, on a Saturday near the end of April 1982. It wasn’t beach weather—that doesn’t hit the Washington coast until the end of August. Dave, recently dumped by a girl, was in search of a beer and a little distraction. In fact, when he left his place in Raymond and drove his orange VW surf buggy toward the highway, he didn’t know if he should turn right to Westport or left to Long Beach. Long Beach won. When he arrived at a tavern called The Sore Thumb, it was packed with young men not doing much of anything.

Shooting the breeze.

Shooting pool.

Talking about shooting.

Yet amid all the guys was the most beautiful girl Dave had ever laid eyes on.

Though there were hiccups in Shelly’s life when it came to choosing men, there was no denying she was very good-looking, with light eyes, red hair that she wore big and long, and the kind of figure that little girls hope for when they are growing up. Curves in all the right places. Shelly understood that men liked a girl who flaunted what she had, and in her early years, she was more than happy to work it.

By Dave Knotek’s estimation, Shelly Watson Rivardo Long was way out of his league. He just knew it. He watched her from the sidelines. She was all auburn hair and had a killer body. Dave had been a late bloomer. No girlfriend to speak of in high school. He was shy back then. Even after the navy, he was still shy. He sipped his beer, and tried to get up the nerve to ask the pretty redhead to dance.

“She really looked like a movie star in some of them old films. A wow. Other guys were hitting on her right and left and I just looked at her. Pretty soon, she came over to my table just as I was ready to ask her to dance.”

Shelly told Dave she had two little girls and was living down south in Clark County, in a nice little house that her Grandma Anna had left her when she passed.

“Can I get your phone number?” he asked Shelly after they’d danced for a few songs.

“Okay,” she said, playing it cool.

They parted ways later that evening. Dave never expected to see her again, but he couldn’t stop thinking about her. He certainly wouldn’t see her there at the bar. The Sore Thumb burned to the ground the night after they met.

He finally sucked up the courage and dialed Shelly’s number and asked if he could come down to see her in Vancouver. She said yes. In time, he made it a weekly trip. Dave fell hard for Shelly and her little girls.

“They were nice kids. Really good kids. They needed a dad. I could see that. Anyone could.”

About that time, Shelly needed a savior—someone she could use. Danny was long gone. So was Randy. She was in trouble with the house that Grandma Anna had left her. It had gone into receivership when she couldn’t come up with the money for the taxes or the loan. She quitclaimed it over to Dave Knotek.

“Dave wants to try to save it for me,” she wrote the judge, “but it needs much needed repairs. I can barely afford to care for my children. I think I’ll have to let Dave have claim to it.”

Shelly lamented the legacy of the house adjacent to the nursing home. It had been in her family for three generations.

“My grandmother lived there. My natural mother before her death. And I was raised there for the first twelve years of my life. It has been common knowledge between my family and my relatives that the house would go to me at the right time. That came in 1981. It wasn’t before that because I had a very bad marriage and my parents didn’t want me to lose it in a divorce settlement. In 1979 I separated from my husband and moved in. I know this for sure because my daughter started kindergarten in the fall . . . Save my home for my children. I would like to work with U.S. Creditcorp to see what I can do. I haven’t hurt anyone. I just want to make a future for myself.”