Drawing Dead

by Carolina Mac

“Can’t you make it clear for me, Ty?”

  “Hell no. I ain’t no heartbreaker.” He chuckled, “Well, I am, but not for other people.”

  “I’ll be home tomorrow and I’ll crack her heart in two myself.”

  Tyler was laughing as he ended the call.

  Annie stared across the table. “Whose heart are you going to break besides mine?”

  “A girl I met at Boots. Ty says she’s calling every day.”

  “Watch out, cowboy. They know a good thing when they see it.”

  Jesse finished his coffee and gathered up his gun and his jacket. “I’m going to talk to Zystra and ask for a copy of Ms. Beauchamp’s bracing.”

  “When Travis wakes up what should we do? If the police have a suspect in custody, is there any point hanging around the poker game?”

  “You must want to go home, Ace. Are you missing Jacks?”

  “A lot. I’m ready to go if we’re done here.”

  “Let me go find out. I want to go home too. I’ll call you as soon as I know anything.”

  AFTER JESSE LEFT, Annie refilled her coffee cup and called the ranch. “Hi Rosalie, is Declan around?”

  “No, Mrs. C. something bad happened where Declan was born, and he had to go.”

  “Where he was born? Do you mean in Ireland?”

  “Uh huh. He packed up and went to Ireland.”

  “Did he say when he’d be back?”

  “Nope. I don’t know.”

  “Okay, thanks, Rosie.”

  Annie ended the call and pressed the number for Mill Antiques in Sante Fe. “Hi, Jean, it’s me.”

  “How is the job going, dear. Are you almost finished?”

  “I am, Jean. How’s Jackson?”

  “Perfect as always. Pete gets such a kick out of him.”

  “A couple more days at the most and I’ll fly up there and pick him up.”

  “No rush. We love having him with us.”

  Annie said goodbye and pressed end just as Travis clumped out of the bedroom looking grumpy and disheveled. Shirtless, golden hair highlighting his broad muscular chest, straw-colored hair poking out in all directions and hanging in his scruff-covered face and a pair of faded jeans slung low on his hips, he slumped down at the end of the table.

  “Any coffee?”

  Annie nodded and poured him a cup.

  “Where’s the boss?”

  “Gone to police headquarters.”

  Travis splashed a little cream into his cup and greedily gulped half of it down.

  Annie watched with interest. What had she found so attractive about Travis? The way he looked right at this moment was downright off-putting. All sulky and brooding, but hot underneath, like a wet campfire trying to ignite.

  “Stop staring at me, Annie-girl.” His morning voice was low and scratchy from too many smokes. “I got enough problems.”

  “Thankfully, I’m not one of your problems anymore.”

  Travis turned the ice blue eyes on her and they sparked—a danger signal, she recognized instantly. “That right there is my biggest problem.”

  “Can’t help you, Travis. You made the call.”

  Travis was on his feet and pointing a finger, his jeans barely hanging on his slim hips. “Wrong,” he hollered, “I was goddam wrong about Dec and I admit it.”

  Annie giggled.

  Two long strides and he was behind her chair. “Don’t you laugh at me, girl. I love you more than anybody ever has. Yesterday, tomorrow or the day after that.” He leaned down, jerked her chair around to face him and kissed her like there was no tomorrow.

  JESSE SAT in Lieutenant Zystra’s office and tried to catch his breath. If he hadn’t realized it before now, it was abundantly clear today—he shouldn’t leave the ranch.

  Zystra noticed and questioned him on it. “You feeling okay, Ranger?”

  Jesse nodded. “I’m okay. I have a bad heart and I’ve been overdoing it a little.”

  “And you’re still working? You shouldn’t mess with something that serious.” He picked up a pile of reports and sorted through them. “Okay, let’s go over what we’ve got, and you can go back to your hotel and get some rest.”

  He passed two stapled pages across the desk. “I made you a copy of the medical examiner’s preliminary report. The autopsy won’t be for a couple more days. Seems we’re always backed up in the county morgue. Anyway, drowning—no surprise.”

  Jesse skimmed the report. “Says accidental drowning.”

  Zystra handed him another sheet. “Copy of Ms. Beauchamp’s statement. She says Philip Wellston was drunk and insisted on seeing the pool area because he wanted to get some laps in before his morning golf game. He slipped as he rounded the end of the pool and fell in. She couldn’t swim and couldn’t physically lift him out, so she ran for help.” He passed Jesse another statement. “Here’s the statement from a Jason Bartram, a hotel guest she accosted in the fifth-floor hallway. As you can see, Bartram says she was crying and screaming. He followed her back to the pool area—says she was running with her shoes in her hand—and when they got there, your people were on the scene with security and one of the guards was doing CPR.”

  Jesse stared at the reports and tried to make sense of it.

  “You look like something is bothering you,” said Zystra.

  “I sat across from him in the poker game and he wasn’t drunk—at least not drunk enough to fall into a swimming pool.”

  “There was a slight swelling on his head. If he slipped and hit his head and was unconscious when he fell in, he would have drowned—drunk or not.”

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  “As soon as the autopsy has been completed, I’ll get you the full report.”

  “Ms. Beauchamp is free and clear?”

  Zystra shrugged. “No reason she wouldn’t be.”

  Jesse gathered up his copies of the reports and was about to leave when Zystra got a call.

  “Okay, I’ll be right there.”

  “I’ll get out of your way, Lieutenant.”

  “Hold on, Ranger Quantrall, you better follow me back to your hotel. It seems we have another guy dead in his bed.”

  BLAINE PARKED in Misty’s driveway behind the car she rarely drove. He still hadn’t figured that one out—why did she have a car of her own, but almost always took a cab or the bus? Didn’t make sense to him, but a lot of things about Misty were just that—clouded in mist.

  He used his key, entered the foyer and patted Hoodoo on his head. “Hey, boy, you didn’t even bark at me.”

  Misty came out of the kitchen and gave him a hug.

  “What? No passionate kissing and luring me upstairs?”

  She turned her back and slipped through the kitchen door, “That would be my first choice, but no time. People are coming to see the house and I’m grumpy.”

  Blaine followed her, took a seat at the kitchen table and watched her spraying countertops with Lysol. “Why are you grumpy?”

  “Somebody from the DA’s office called and said I have to testify against Brad tomorrow and I’m scared.”

  Blaine jumped off his chair and crossed the kitchen in three strides. “Don’t be scared. He has to be put behind bars and you’re the only person who can accomplish that. Do you want me to go with you?”

  “I know y’all are so busy trying to find the crazy guy that ran away.”

  “Doesn’t matter. You’re more important.”

  Hoodoo put up a ruckus in the front hall and Misty squealed, “They can’t be here already.”

  “That’s Farrell. He’s meeting me here.”

  “Why?” Misty finished cleaning the sink and started on the refrigerator.

  “Umm… he’s bringing Fisher’s shirt, so you could touch it...and see.”

  She turned, spray nozzle pointed at Blaine and her eyes lit up. “Is it time for me to help?”

  “Sure is. We’re getting nowhere.”

  Blaine let Farrell in and he made himself at home in the kitchen. “Baking anything to
day, Misty?”

  “Sorry, Farrell, I’m cleaning. People are coming to look at the house.”

  “Should we leave and come back later?” asked Blaine.

  “It might be best. The realtor told me to leave too, but I refused.”

  Blaine raised an eyebrow. Misty could be stubborn. He’d found that out the hard way.

  “Leave the shirt, bro, and Misty can deal with it when she has time.”

  Farrell pulled the balled-up piece of clothing out of the duffel and said, “Where do you want it?”

  “Stick it in the laundry room for now. Thanks, Farrell.”

  DOCTOR MCINTYRE locked the door of his office and spoke to his assistant on the way out. “I’m going out for a few minutes, Deborah. Take messages for me, please.”

  “Sure, Doctor, no problem.”

  He ran out the back way to the doctor’s parking lot, full of excitement because Zach had called. He jumped behind the wheel and headed for the back gate. “I knew you would come back to me, Zachary,” he mumbled to himself. “I don’t think you killed anyone. The police are mistaken about that.”

  McIntyre drove the six blocks through the busy downtown core, found it impossible to change lanes when he needed to, and circled the block twice before he caught a glimpse of Zach standing half-hidden by the phone booth at the Amoco station. He pulled alongside the curb and motioned for Zach to get in.

  “Hey, Doc. Sorry I ran away. Don’t know what I was thinking.”

  McIntyre reached over and patted Zach’s arm. “It’s okay, Zach. We all make mistakes. You decided to come back all on your own and that’s what counts, isn’t it?”

  Zach shrugged. “I guess so.”

  “You probably missed your friends at the hospital.”

  “Uh huh. A couple of them.”

  McIntyre stopped for the red light at the corner and Zach motioned for him to turn left. “I want to show you where I fell in the river.”

  “No. I think we should go straight back to the hospital. I have a patient in a few minutes.”

  “Please, Doc. I almost drowned because a mean homeless guy pushed me with his shopping cart. I want to show you.”

  McIntyre let out a breath. “Well, if it’s that important to you, I guess we could take a quick detour.” They drove the four blocks to Congress Avenue and McIntyre pulled off the street and parked around the corner after they crossed the bridge.

  “Down there.” Zach pointed. “See, he’s the one. He lives under the bridge like a fuckin troll. He’s there right now with his cart loaded with crap.”

  “Maybe we should stay away from him if he tried to hurt you, Zach.”

  Zach jumped out of the Toyota and took off. He sprinted down the embankment with the speed of a gazelle, waving his arms in the air and shouting. “You’ll be sorry, cart man.”

  “Come back, Zach. Don’t threaten him.” McIntyre had almost reached the riverbank when Zach picked up a boulder the size of a watermelon and clobbered the homeless guy over the head.”

  “Don’t, Zach,” McIntyre hollered, “Don’t hurt him.” The doctor caught up as the homeless guy crumpled to the ground, his head covered in blood. “No, no. Look what you’ve done, Zach.”

  Ignoring McIntyre, Zach dropped the blood-covered rock and with a low growl, rolled the homeless guy like a ragged sausage down the bank into the water.

  “Don’t, Zach. No, don’t.”

  Splash.

  The homeless guy, wrapped in layers of clothing, a parka and wearing heavy army boots, hit the water and the current took him under. The back of the parka inflated with air and bobbed up like a filthy parachute further downstream, then disappeared.

  McIntyre hung his head, then did some deep breathing. “This is bad, Zach. You killed a man and I watched you do it. I’m going to have to tell the police.”

  Zach grinned. “He pushed me into the river and tried to drown me,” he hollered in McIntyre’s face, “and I needed to get even.” Zach spun around three times like he was Wonder Woman then stopped dead and rummaged through the garbage in the cart. He held up the tattered watch cap. “Why would he want this shit?”

  “I don’t know.” McIntyre was on the verge of tears. “Come on, Zach, we have to go to the police.”

  “I thought you were taking me home, Doc? You said I could go back to the hospital. Did you lie?”

  “No, I didn’t lie, but things have changed. I truly believed you were better and you didn’t hurt anybody, Zach, but now I have to rethink that.”

  Zach growled and picked up the bloody boulder.

  JESSE CALLED TRAVIS and told him to meet him at Ron Hamilton’s suite.

  “What are you telling me, boss? I helped Amanda take him to his room last night, and now he’s dead?”

  “No details yet. Come down.”

  Lieutenant Zystra led the way into Hamilton’s room, already crowded with police personnel. The medical examiner was on his knees next to the body.

  Jesse stepped back against the wall, stayed out of the way and observed. It wasn’t long before Travis and Annie joined him.

  Zystra gave directives to members of his team, then walked over and spoke to Jesse. “If you three saw the victim last night, I’ll need statements from all of you.”

  Annie pointed at the door. “You can use my suite, if you like, Lieutenant. It would be less congested.”

  “If this guy is a high roller, how come he has an ordinary room and not a suite?” asked Zystra.

  “No idea,” said Annie, “but last night he was shouting about how much cash he had. Not usually a good idea.”

  “Okay, let’s go upstairs and get this done.” In the elevator he asked. “Was the woman with him a regular player?”

  Annie nodded. “Amanda Singer. Fairly regular. I don’t know her room number or even if she was staying here.”

  “I can find that out from the hotel,” said the lieutenant.

  Annie made the men comfortable at the dining table and offered them a drink.

  “I’ll take a Coke if you have one,” said Zystra. He set his small recorder on the table and Travis went first.

  “I was only with him for about ten minutes, tops. He came up to the poker game and he was drunk, staggering drunk. He wanted to get in the game and that’s when he was yelling about how much cash he had. Anybody could have heard him. There were no empty seats, so Rudy, the poker manager, asked me to help Ms. Singer get Ron to his room. And that’s what I did. I helped her get him in and out of the elevator, and I kind of propped him up while she opened the door to his room. We walked him over to the bed and he was out as soon as he laid down.”

  “Was Ms. Singer staying in that room too?”

  “I wouldn’t know that, Lieutenant,” said Travis. “When I left, she was in his room with him, that’s all I can tell you.”

  “Thanks,” said Zystra. “Your turn, Mrs. Powell.”

  Annie’s version was shorter. She’d only seen them in passing, the same as Jesse.

  After Zystra left, Jesse blew out a big breath. “Guess I won’t be going home tomorrow after all.”

  “I think you should go, cowboy,” said Annie. “You’re pale and I know you’re missing Charity. Travis and I have got this.”

  “The man sent me and he’s expecting results,” said Jesse.

  “Too damn bad,” said Annie, “I don’t want you dying for him or for any other reason. Get a flight and go home.”

  Jesse rubbed his chest. “I might have to.”

  “I could use food before we play marathon poker again,” said Travis. “How about it?”

  Annie nodded. “Let’s get Jesse’s flight booked, then we’ll go to dinner.”

  BLAINE AND FARRELL went to Logan’s for beer and steak while Misty was busy with the realtor and the prospective buyers.

  “Think that asshole, Mulligan will have a good lawyer?” asked Farrell as he plowed through his second basket of chips and salsa.

  “I imagine he will. He can afford someone competent
, and he’s had plenty of time in jail to consult with his attorney and prepare his defense.”

  “Is there a good defense for beating up your ex-wife?”

  “None,” said Blaine. “If the prosecution succeeded in getting a balance of women on the jury, Brad should get the max sentence.”

  “Women on the jury.” Farrell nodded as he thought about it.

  Blaine’s phone rang, and he set his Corona down to answer. “Misty,” he said to Farrell. “How did the showing go?”

  “They liked the house and the realtor just called me, I have another showing tonight at eight.”

  “Sounds promising, but you’ll be tied up all evening. I’ll pick you up for court tomorrow morning.”

  “You don’t mind going with me?”

  “That’s what I’m here for.”

  “I can think of better uses for you.” She giggled.

  “You’re not so grumpy now. That’s a good thing.”

  He ended the call and Farrell looked to see if he was going to share. “Another showing at eight.”

  “She ain’t gonna touch Fisher’s shirt and get a read on him?”

  “Not tonight, I guess.”

  “Fuck,” said Farrell. “I was keen to see her do it.”

  ANNIE DRESSED for the poker game after she and Travis dropped Jesse at McCarran. Before exiting the privacy of her bedroom, she tried Declan again in Ireland. This time he answered.

  “I got your message, darlin, but I’ve been at the hospital with my mother.”

  “Is it your mother who’s sick?”

  “She had a stroke and it was a bad one. I’m afraid I won’t be back for a while. She’ll need care at home after the hospital lets her go.”

  “Take all the time you need, sweetheart. This is your mother we’re talking about.”

  “Thanks, Annie. Sorry I didn’t have time to call you before I left the country.”

  “No problem. Things aren’t going too well here. Looks like a few more days at least.”

  “I’ll be in touch when I have news.”

  Annie stared at the screen feeling bad for Dec. Such a sweet guy, but he was the one who had the medical training and he should be taking care of his own mother—nobody else.

  When Annie came out of her room, Travis was leaning on the bar chugging a cold one. “Want a beer before we go up?”