A Dead Nephew

by Anna Celeste Burke

  “Be my guest,” George responded, handing gloves and baggies to her. “Anyone else?”

  “Nick, is the shop that sells outdoor gear still in the mall area between the casino and the hotel?” I’d had a sudden inspiration and my shopping mojo kicked in even though I’d only visited the shops once during the casino’s grand opening.

  “Yes. You can get good equipment there, but it’s expensive.”

  “Does that include hunting knives and sheaths?” Nick broadly grinned before he answered my question.

  “Yes. I’ll bet you won’t have to look far at all to find another knife sheath with the same tag on it, George.”

  “Like taking candy from a baby,” George responded and shook his head.

  “I wouldn’t wait too long to check it out,” Jerry commented. “If you give me the information from the barcode on that tag, Tommy and I will see if we can find a match before we go home.” George nodded and held the bag up so Jerry could copy the information into the little notebook he carries with him when he’s working on a case.

  I kept a grip on Anastasia’s collar. She’d run to me the moment Nick had Timothy Ridgeway on the ground, wiggling and woofing as if she’d saved her momma from the nasty varmint. Back on my feet, I bent down to thank her, and the pleat in the back of my skirt gave way. I’d have to add stretch Ponte fabric to the list of things not to wear to a crime scene. Even stretch fabric wasn’t designed to handle skidding on gravel that had felt like sandpaper as I’d slid over it on my backside.

  “I’m not sure if it has anything to do with Sacramento’s murder, Detective, but there’s a syringe in the bushes. I saw it when I was standing on the large boulder. It’s near an old footprint,” Nick added. We all stared at Timothy Ridgeway.

  “Good grief!” George grouched. “Did you stab Sacramento to death or shoot him up?”

  “I didn’t kill anyone. Sacramento Lugo was already dead when I got here, and before I, uh...” Timothy Ridgeway abruptly ended his sentence before it was finished.

  “Before you stabbed him to death with a hunting knife and pinned it on Louie?” I asked.

  “It doesn’t matter what I did since you can’t kill a dead man,” he muttered through clenched teeth.

  “Dead, how?” I asked.

  “How do I know, but the knife sticking out of his chest was a big clue, don’t you think?”

  “Is that what you told John Lugo when you called to let him know his son was dead?” I paused, trying to calm myself down. “In your statement to the Sheriff’s Department officers, it says you and your partner found Louie Jacobs passed out with a bloody knife in his hand. Detective Hernandez says he heard that you told another officer Louie was standing over his friend with the knife still in his hand. Now, you’re telling us the knife was in Sacramento’s chest when you found him. Why should we believe the knife was anywhere except in your hand?”

  “I want to call a lawyer,” Timothy Ridgeway said. “Now!”

  “Not so fast,” Kim said. “Why did you say, when I got here, not we? If you arrived before your partner, that would have given you plenty of time to stage the murder scene. If you caught Louie Jacobs red-handed with a bloody knife in his hand, why hide the sheath?”

  “Or the knife, for that matter,” I added. “It wasn’t turned over to the County Sheriff’s Department with other items entered in the evidence log that morning. Do I have that right, George?”

  “That checks out,” George said. “That’s one of the things I went to your house to tell you. Then I ran into Tommy, who was bouncing off the walls about not being able to reach you on the phone. The tribal police didn’t turn over the knife until the next day. Did you stick it in your belt and forget about it, Officer Ridgeway?”

  “I’m entitled to a lawyer.”

  “True. If you can afford an attorney, hire one. Otherwise, one will be provided to you. Timothy Ridgeway, I’m arresting you on suspicion of murder in the death of Sacramento Lugo, obstructing justice, and lying in a sworn statement...” George cuffed him, stepped away a little, and finished reading him his rights.

  “I told you Jessica was up to her designer hemline in clues, didn’t I?” Tommy clapped and began doing a jig that gave him an even more elfish appearance than usual. Anastasia bounded over to him, and he stopped to pet the poodle who adores him. “Who knew she would have already flushed out the killer by the time we got here so Louie can go free.”

  “Let’s get out of here before we all die from the heat,” George added from the roadside.

  It was still hot even though we were all standing in the shade that had spread over most of Louie’s place as the sun sank lower on the horizon. Nick distributed water to us from an insulated pack he’d placed in the shade when we first arrived. I’d almost finished mine before all the excitement erupted, so I gladly accepted a new bottle. Unless Nick could get someone up here quickly with another vehicle, I’d be hoofing it out of here.

  “Nick, take these and go pick up the hypodermic you spotted,” George demanded as he handed Nick a pair of gloves and an evidence bag. “I know I don’t have to tell you not to step on the footprint.”

  “Yes, sir!” Nick smiled and dashed away to collect the evidence.

  “I can’t believe Tommy was right about needing to get up here,” Jerry said as he caught my eye. “That guy could have broken something when he knocked you down. If George hadn’t been pointing a gun at him and Ridgeway had drawn his, it could have been worse. You need to let people know that you’re heading to a crime scene in the middle of nowhere, especially when it’s a hundred degrees in the shade.”

  “I didn’t go alone, as you can see. You’re right, though. I should have called Amy and told her where we were going.”

  “Tommy’s going to be all hopped up about his ‘Spidey sense,’ but I don’t want to rely on it too often.”

  “I agree!” I exclaimed. “On the one hand, maybe I ought to think twice about how much to ‘trust my gut’ on the spur of the moment. On the other hand, I was certain plenty had gone wrong with the investigation even before we spoke to Louie. We haven’t heard the full story yet either. I’m not sure what it will take to get Timothy Ridgeway to come clean—especially after he’s spoken to a lawyer.”

  Out of the blue, a horn honked. I ran to the road and searched as far as I could see. After more honking, a Jeep came careening around the corner, moving too fast for the road. It was aimed straight toward the drop we’d passed not long before arriving at Louie’s place.

  “Whoa!” a voice bellowed as the Jeep’s driver adjusted the direction he was heading at the last second.

  “How many times have I said to slow down?” Bernadette shouted. “One more close call like that, and we’re the ones who’ll need to be rescued.”

  “I’ll slow down when I see Kim, uh, and Jessica.” He honked again and came barreling our way.

  “Either you’re crazy, or you need glasses. Can’t you see that dune buggy? Kim’s got to be there. Slow down before you run over her!”

  Kim heard the ruckus and dashed to the roadside. I hoped Brien might hear her if she yelled. Instead, she jumped into the middle of the road, waving her arms above her head. I let out a shrill whistle as Jerry and Tommy hollered at Brien.

  I figured Kim could get out of the way, but what if Bernadette was right that Brien wouldn’t see Nick’s vehicle in time? It was almost hidden in the shadows off to the side of the narrow road. Anastasia ran around me and barked. The sight of Kim, or one of the messages we were all sending must have gotten through to Brien. He hit the brakes.

  “We’re here!” he said as if he’d figured it out all by himself. He hopped out of the Jeep and ran to greet Kim. “Betsy has extra-sensitory precipitation, doesn’t she?”

  “ESP, Brien, just say ESP and leave it at that!” Tommy shouted.

  “What Brien’s trying to say is that Betsy called us and told us to get up here quick. She didn’t say why, but gave us directions,” Bernadette added as Anasta
sia nuzzled her palm, hoping for a treat. I don’t know if she has what’s often regarded as ESP, but Bernadette always turns out to be Extra Sensitively Prepared. She dug into a pocket and handed the sweet poodle a treat.

  “It’s too bad Betsy called you because everything’s under control,” Tommy replied. “We got here just in time to help corner the dirty tribal cop who killed Sacramento Lugo and pinned it on Louie Jacobs. Case solved!”

  “Not quite,” I said. “I sure hope Officer Ridgeway’s lawyer will advise him to be truthful about what went on up here. I find it hard to believe he did whatever he did all on his own. A smart man would make a deal quickly to help law enforcement solve the case before he ends up in Calipatria instead of Louie Jacobs.”

  “You’re nuts if you think I’m going to listen to your advice with this circus going on—complete with a dog act!” Tommy reached down and covered Anastasia’s ears.

  “Don’t listen to him, girl, he has no idea that he’s dealing with the Cat Pack and its mascot, minus a couple members. This isn’t our first ride on the merry-go-round, and we’ve dealt with tougher hombres than you, el hombre limpio if that’s what you call yourself.”

  A cry of rage came from somewhere behind us. A strange odor accompanied the cry—it was vaguely familiar—like something I’d encountered in a hospital or dentist’s office. Anastasia whined as Tommy and Jerry backed away, taking her with them into the roadway. George Hernandez was waving his gun around but seemed unclear about where to aim.

  “Don’t shoot!” Timothy Ridgeway shouted and fell to his knees. “I swear I came here alone. I don’t know who that is.”

  I felt disoriented as I inhaled a few whiffs of the odor. When I heard footsteps crunching on the gritty ground and what could have been a scuffle, I couldn’t tell where the sounds came from or where the footsteps were headed. Anastasia bolted into the brush near where Nick had gone to retrieve the hypodermic.

  “Anastasia!” I cried. Not thinking clearly, I ran after her. I’d only gone a few feet when I saw Anastasia squeeze through a narrow space in the rock hidden by the brush. I had a harder time than Anastasia getting through the passageway. As I glanced behind me, I saw Brien rushing toward me.

  “Go up and over, Brien. You’ll never get through this way!” I exclaimed as I slipped through the space, tearing my dress again. I covered my nose with my arm. I could still detect a faint odor and felt another wave of disorientation. When it passed, I saw Anastasia peering through a large opening in the rock on the opposite side of a space directly in front of me. She was barking loudly, and I heard that scream of rage again. Nick was lying on the ground near me.

  “Nick!” I cried as I ran to him. His eyes were wide open. A hypodermic needle was stuck in his chest. The odor of the gas clung to him and was stronger here. I knelt beside him, wondering why his shirt was wet, and I dabbed at it feeling woozy and confused. Anastasia’s barking suddenly sounded as if it came from a distance as she moved ran, or maybe I was the one moving away.

  6 Revels and Revelations

  “It’s obviously some kind of knockout gas,” Laura Stone, my best friend and a nurse, observed. “Not long-acting given how soon Nick and Jessica came around. At least one of the ingredients could be chloroform, with that ether-like odor you described. We use a variety of fast-acting anesthesia gases at the hospital, but it’s administered as an inhalant through a delivery mask or airway mask. We take precautions against leaks in the operating room, but I’ve never heard of any gas you could spray out in the open air the way you described.”

  “It’s not likely to be chloroform because there’s a problem using it as an aerosol. Once it’s been exposed to the air, it’s quickly transformed into a poisonous compound. If the guy using it has figured out some method to keep it stable even after it’s been released into the air, the military, as well as the police will want to know who and where he is,” Peter countered.

  “What does that mean?” Tommy asked.

  “Even though knockout gases show up in movies and on television, there hasn’t been much luck creating one for use in real life. I should restate that. There hasn’t much luck creating one that works without killing the people who are exposed to it. The Russians used something called ‘Kolokol-1’ to incapacitate the Chechnyan terrorists after they took a theater full of people hostage in Moscow. That gas was derived from fentanyl and was absorbed by inhaling it and through the skin. Unfortunately, the gas killed more than a hundred hostages, in part because the government didn’t tell hospital personnel anything about what was in the gas. Once they figured out that it contained a derivative of fentanyl, they administered an antidote used for opioid overdose. Technically, knockout gases are chemical weapons, and their use has been banned. I’m betting they’d find it hard to resist getting their hands on a true knockout gas—as a matter of national security if they knew about it.”

  “I can’t be certain the gas knocked me out,” I argued. “Maybe it was something in the hypodermic. When I saw his wet shirt, I touched it before I conked out.”

  “Didn’t you feel a little weird when that mist blew toward us?” Kim asked. “I did. At least, I think I did.”

  “Yeah,” Jerry replied. “It’s all kind of hazy, isn’t it? From what you said about your conversation with Louie, maybe it contains something like the date rape drug that makes you forget what happened.”

  “As in a spray version of a roofy?” Tommy asked.

  “Yes, or maybe Ketamine in combination with something that gave it the odor of something like ether. Both ‘roofies’ and Ketamine are available as street drugs,” Jerry replied.

  “Instead of chloral hydrate, maybe it was a sedative-hypnotic anesthetic like isoflurane. If I’d been there, I might have recognized the odor,” Laura commented. “I wonder why it didn’t knock Anastasia out if the mist contained Ketamine. Vets routinely use it as an anesthetic for animals.”

  “The Cleaner Man must use something in a gas that only works on human brains,” Brien responded before Peter could speak. He had more to say, but Bernadette interrupted him.

  “Uh, oh. We’re going to get a lecture on the human brain from Brien,” Bernadette announced as she jumped to her feet. “I’m going to check on dinner.”

  “Anastasia’s every bit as smart as most humans I’ve met,” Tommy argued.

  “That’s true, but it still doesn’t mean she’s cerebral in the same way we are. She must be more enlightened than any of us are. How else could she be happy almost all the time?” A curtain of silence fell as we all sat there. Not even Bernadette moved. “What? Did I use the wrong word?”

  “Quite the contrary,” I replied. “You used both cerebral and enlightened correctly, and your observation about Anastasia was insightful. She is such a happy girl.” Anastasia went from happy to ecstatic as I spoke her name and rubbed her soft ears. She bounded from one side of the patio to the other as if demonstrating the truth in what Brien had claimed.

  Brien stared at me without responding. From the time I first met him when I returned to my family’s estate where he was working as the pool boy, he’d had a way with words—an awkward one. In addition to earning his guard card, he’d also been working hard on his vocabulary and misspoke less often.

  “Well, I don’t know about the rest of you, but when we reached the crime scene, I definitely felt calmer. That’s because Brien wasn’t zooming around curves on the donkey path that he kept calling a road. Ay que dios mio!” Bernadette crossed herself. “I’m not saying that had anything to do with the gas. I was farther away than you were, Jessica. Maybe Anastasia ran off before the gas reached her since it blew toward us as she went into the bushes.”

  “Your memory of the sequence of events is better than mine, so you could be right,” I said.

  “I’m just glad she’s okay because she was chasing the Cleaner Man or whoever he was. When we caught up with her, she was running down a different trail than the one we used to get up there. I had to call her more than once a
nd ended up threatening her to get her to come back.”

  “What Tommy means is that he told her there would be no dancing for her tonight if she didn’t do as he said right then,” Jerry added. Anastasia understood at least part of what Jerry had told us. She ran to Tommy, cocked her head one way and then the other before putting a paw on his knee.

  “Don’t worry, Anastasia, we’re all going to dance.” Tommy loves that dog as much as I do. He leaned over and smooched her on the top of her soft, fluffy head.

  “Not out here,” Bernadette said. “I’m setting up dinner indoors. Even with the patio misters on, it’s too hot tonight. Besides, we’ve already been outdoors in the heat long enough today.” Bernadette stepped into the house without any further discussion. I wasn’t going to argue with her. I felt drained and anxious about the situation we were in.

  “I’ll do more research on the anesthesia gases we use,” Laura offered as we stood to follow Bernadette. “From what Peter’s said, if any of them could be turned into an aerosol spray, someone in the security business would already know about it.”

  “That’s worth doing, Laura. Maybe the Cleaner Man is a mad genius with a background as a chemist who worked at a top-secret laboratory until he was fired and decided to test his products on desert drifters,” I speculated.

  “Whoa. You make him sound like a James Bond villain,” Brien commented.

  “He’s right. It’s a great plot for a medical thriller,” Laura replied. “I wish I had time to write it.”

  “I thought you said Eduardo was out of the country. You must have plenty of extra time on your hands.” Laura flushed, and her eyes brightened as Jerry mentioned the new man in her life.

  “He is, but I’ve got to catch up on all the things I let go while he was here. I’ll be lucky if I can do that before he returns from wherever he is in Central or South America. While we’re speaking about our favorite men friends, where’s your honey, Frank?”