by Gale Borger
Five minutes later the phone rang again. Edie picked it up. She heard the click of J.J.‘s office phone and hoped he did too. “Edie? J.J. Something’s come up and I can’t make it back. Could you please give my apologies to Mr. Martinez? Get a number and I’ll call his motel when I finish.”
“Will do, Sheriff,” Edie said and hung up the phone.
Martinez came storming out of J.J.‘s office. Edie turned, smile on her face. “Mr. Martinez, that was Sheriff Green on the phone. He said–”
Martinez threw a piece of paper in Edie’s direction. “I know what he said,” and slammed through the front door.
Edie smiled for real and went back to her typing.
27
Mag and Ian arrived at Mom’s while I was in the house. By the time I made it back out to the barn, Ian was talking to J.J. and Mag was storming through the barn in my direction. We both stopped and gaped as the familiar red Crown Vic came roaring up the driveway, fishtailing in the gravel. A fluff of blue hair was all we could see above the dash. We braced ourselves mentally, and dove for cover.
We watched as the heavy driver’s door of the Crown Vic flew wide open and bounced on its hinges. Two scrawny legs popped out and pulled back in quickly, barely avoiding being pinched in the door. Muffled cursing that would have made a sailor blush could be heard from inside the car. The door popped open again. A purse the size of a diaper bag was thrust between the door and the frame. We came out of hiding. Mag grabbed the door and opened it. She jumped back when Mary Cromwell kicked at the door again. Instead of hitting the door, Mary’s feet met air, and she catapulted out of the car and slammed into Mag. The Maggot fell backward and Mary ended up on Mag’s chest, with her knees on either side of Mag’s head, and her crotch on Mag’s chin.
Mary looked down at Mag with reproach written all over her face. “You Miller girls just can’t stay out of trouble, can you?”
Since Mary was sitting on Mag’s throat, Mag was having a hard time answering, as she was being suffocated by the 78 pound geriatric. I grabbed Mary by the armpits and yanked her off of Mag. Mag sat up and sucked air into her lungs. I yanked Mary so hard, her legs flew over her head like a rag doll. I set her down, barely avoided being clobbered on the head by that monstrosity of a purse.
She mumbled and tottered off toward the house. I grabbed the purse and hauled her to a stop. With barely contained rage, I fought for control as it registered Mom must have spilled the beans already. I tried for nonchalance and ended up with Spanish Inquisition. I glared down at her and barked, “Did my mother call you?”
She yanked her purse out of my hand. She paused to smooth her short blue curls into place and stuck her nose in the air. “No, I guess I’m not good enough for Gerry Miller anymore, my son had to tell me there was another party–I mean body–out here at the farm. There’s been so much murder and mayhem going on, I didn’t have time to make anything.”
She yanked her purse out of my hands and this time stomped off in the direction of the barn. I held out my hand to Mag. I don’t often say it, but poor Mag, she tried to be a Good Samaritan and ended up crotched by an old lady. Mag grabbed my wrist and I hoisted her off the ground. Brushing the dirt off her butt she said, “Man, why did you yell at Mary? I thought you were going to mash her bony little body to a pulp. It was pretty cool the way she stood up to you though. She must be really ballsy, or really, really stupid!”
We thought about it for a second and looked at each other.
“Stupid,” we said together, and laughed.
“Mag, a lot has been happening, and I can’t tell you all of it until we get out of here. Let’s meet at my house, I have to get the dogs home anyway. Why don’t you order pizza and drag Ian out of here. I’ll get J.J. and meet you guys at my house around,” I consulted my watch, “seven.”
“Sounds good. It was all but over with back there, anyway. The ambulance is bagging up the body and Mike called the rendering service to move the horse to his large animal surgery. Bernie posed for a newspaper photo with the horse on the winch like he was posing with a record breaking marlin. Ted was on his cell phone, probably calling Mommy.”
When we parted, Mag held out a fist and I touched her knuckles with mine. We didn’t know what it meant, but we saw it on television once and thought it was cool. The ambulance drove around the barn. Malcolm followed in his car. People came streaming out of the barn and climbed into their cars. Ted and Mary drew up the rear, arguing over something. Mag and I ducked behind some old hay to avoid them.
Only J.J., Mike, Bernie, Moe, and Ian remained out behind the barn. Bernie was just climbing into his truck when I walked up to thank him for coming out. “Aww, shucks, Miz Buzz, you know I’d do anything for your folks.”
“Thanks just the same, Bernie. Not too many people would blow an afternoon dragging a dead horse out of the ground for a neighbor.”
He blushed and pulled on the bill of his John Deere ball cap. With a nod, he backed his truck up and pulled around the barn. J.J. was bringing Mike up to date. He explained why he wanted the mare autopsied and a drug screen run.
Mike shook his head and looked at the ground. “I’ve heard everything now, J.J. I honestly thought I could not be surprised at what people were capable of, but I was wrong. If there is anything else I can do, you let me know.”
J.J. put a hand on Mike’s shoulder. “Just be careful, my friend. We think whoever did this probably destroyed a veterinarian’s office in Texas. They also stole the carcass of a mare that sounds as if she died in the same way.”
Mike slapped J.J. in the ribs and jumped back, chuckled and said, “No worries, mate. My office is separate from my home, and I’m going to cut her open right away. Where are you going to be?”
I piped up, “My house.”
Mike, with a speculative gleam in his eye, said, “So I heard.”
I narrowed my eyes and went chest to chest. “Knock it off, Doc, or I’ll start the rumor that when you pass Jake Gustafson’s sheep farm, the lambs look up and say, ‘There goes my daaad!’”
He barked out a laugh. “You are one sick bitch. Okay, you win, Buzz. Your house and no teasing.” He ruffled my hair and headed for his truck.
I ran a hand through my wild mop. “Why does everyone do that?” I grumbled.
J.J. ruffled my hair. “We’ve been doing it since we were all kids, and it pisses you off.” He danced out of my swinging range.
“Come on you guys,” he called to Ian and Mag. “I guess we’re all going over to Buzz’s.”
28
The meeting at my house went off as planned, with everyone arriving within a half-hour of each other. We congregated in the kitchen, gathering around the table. Food was top priority, and Sal had really outdone himself. With the bribery of good information for his morning crowd, he put on an unbelievable spread. We were expecting burgers and chips, but Sal rolled in with salads with three dressings, roast beef, gravy, real potatoes, corn, and double chocolate turtle cheesecake.
In return, Sal went home happy with the facts of the case tucked safely in the back of his mind. The only information withheld was the part about Alejandro being alive. We had Alejandro stashed in the guest room happily eating, until Wesley gave him away (must have been the gravy smell). Sal left with the secret screaming for a chance to greet the gossip mill in the morning, but I felt what the heck? Everyone in town would know by morning anyway, when the body I.D. and autopsy came back. Hopefully, if all went according to plan, by morning was all we needed. Sal might as well be the one with his facts straight. Better Sal’s almost first hand account than the crap I handed Rosie-the-News-Whore out at the farm!
Stuffed to the gills, we gravitated to the family room. I gave a dirty look to the partially blank whiteboard, which laughed at me whenever I passed it. The dogs joined us for coffee. Wesley sat on my feet and Hill crawled into J.J.‘s lap.
We went over the facts as we knew them. Ian added what he had learned from the molecular boys. “The seeds from Carole�
��s pocket were definitely Mammilaria lutheyi, and they did not match with the samples we took from the cultivars from the green house.
“In all probability this means it was a new strain from Mexico, which would coincide with the propagation-from-seed theory. The problem is that it still doesn’t connect Carole to the drugs or murder. The laws in Mexico forbid the exportation of the plants, but are unclear on the subject of seeds. So as far as we know, there was no crime committed which would have gotten her murdered.”
Ian twitched with excitement. “Where the plot becomes interesting, however, is when we learn that leuthyi is only found in the Mexican State of Coahuila–where Martinez calls home. While this will not convict, it is another circumstantial tie to the drug trail.”
He shuffled more papers. “Jeff’s boys also found the paper towel the seeds were wrapped in carried traces of pollen from the opium poppies, and that matches up to drugs confiscated off the southern wave of trafficking we already have a handle on.”
I shook my head in awe. “Then the autopsy from the dead horse at Mom and Dad’s will explain why the drugs show up in the south and up here, with none in the Heartland, because they were using horses to transport it straight here, and then on to Chicago, Rockford, Minneapolis and points beyond.”
Ian referred to his notes. “You win the kewpie doll, Buzz. As far as Jeff Fuller could find, they are trying to use this Mexican Poppy to cut cocaine and heroin. The Mexican Poppy is considered a weed in southern Texas and in Mexico, so it can be grown and harvested for next to nothing.”
He patted Mag’s knee and rubbed a hand up and down her thigh. “What our Maggie grabbed in the lab seems to be a new designer drug the lab boys are calling Totaled.
“In small amounts, the toxin found in the Mexican Poppy, when combined with cocaine, reacts in the human body like a hot rush that will blow the top of your head off, thus, you’re totaled. This feeling is followed by it doing just that. Blood vessels burst in the brain and the results are stroke, coma, and death.”
He taped the lab results to the whiteboard and went on. “Our friendly neighborhood drug manufacturers are mixing small quantities of the poison into a cocaine cocktail, which we assume is supposed to stop the chain reaction short of the stroke part. However, Totaled is highly volatile, and not much is known about the chemical reaction when mixed with alcohol or other drugs. Flying on supposition tells us that the results would be devastating if this drug hits the rave crowd. Some recent unexplained deaths are being tested at this moment to see if they can detect the toxin.”
Ian blew out a breath. “That about wraps it up, boys and girls.” He handed the rest of his report to Mag, who hung it with the rest of the lab results. He folded his arms, stood staring at the whiteboard, and said, almost to himself, “There is still something missing.”
I piped up. “I still think that Carole must have seen something she shouldn’t have, or she unknowingly became involved in something and tried to get out.”
Mag inhaled, opened her mouth, and slapped a hand over her lips.
“What?”
Mag looked at each of us. “I’m not a cop like the rest of you, but I agree with Buzz. What if Carole accidentally saw something she shouldn’t have? Like the horse behind Dad’s barn die, or witnessed that guy under the horse being murdered? It could have happened a day or so before we broke into Graff’s, and the timing would have worked out perfectly.”
I grabbed her theory and ran with it. “What if Alejandro’s boss never went to Fort Worth and was up here the whole time?”
The idea clicked with Mag. “Yeah, if Carole happened across either incident and ran, she might have headed toward Mom and Dad’s. Martinez could have ordered the murders, which would make more sense than the bad guys just offing each other.”
“Oh, my God!” All eyes turned to Alejandro, who was holding his head in both hands. “I must have blanked it out. Of course Martinez was there! I couldn’t believe my eyes at first, but he was there, in the shadows! He was there. I know it!”
He turned teary eyes toward me. “How could I forget that, Buzz? How could I forget my boss was there in the shadows? That means he knew. He knew the whole time.” His eyes grew bigger. “Then it was him who almost had me killed! Jose…poor Jose knew nothing.” He rocked in his chair and moaned.
J.J. added, “And what about Doctor Little? Martinez probably had his clinic destroyed in case there was evidence there. He must have stolen the mare so the drugs couldn’t be found.”
Alejandro began to sob. “Poor Princesa, so beautiful, so full of life!”
He looked up again, with tear-drenched eyes. We all sat and watched as his expression changed from grief to rage. He moved to stand. J.J. and Ian each put a hand on his shoulders.
J.J. spoke first. “Anger is good, my friend, but we do not run off blindly to seek vengeance. We plan, we organize, and we plan some more. I will let you be in, but you must follow orders exactly to the letter, is that clear?”
Alejandro nodded. “Yes, sir. I will follow orders, but I want justice for those two mares. And for Missus Graff.”
“We all do, my friend, and we will get it. Come on. We’ll go over what we have so far. I have a couple of calls to make to get the ball rolling. Please excuse me, everyone.”
J.J. left the room.
My house phone rang and I jumped up to get it. It was Moe. “Buzz? Darryl…uh, I mean Moe. I’m sorry to bother you…uh, I mean, is…uh, J.J. there? I don’t mean, uh, shit. Buzz, I need to find J.J. I found something important and he needs to know about it. I can leave a message with you if he’s busy or not there, but I gotta find him.”
“Whoa ,Moe! Slow down a minute! Where are you? J.J. is here–why don’t you come on over?”
“I uh, I’m actually in the neighborhood. But I don’t want to interrupt ,uh, anything…”
“Don’t be an idiot, Darryl. Mag, Ian, and a whole group of us just finished supper. Get over here and get something into your stomach, and you can tell J.J. in person, okay?”
“You’re on, Buzz, and thanks!” About three minutes went by before Moe arrived. Wes looked at the door a split second before we heard Moe knock. He was ready to spring when Ian grabbed the doorknob.
Mag and I tackled Wes at the same time the door opened. We all went down in a heap. The rest of the guests laughed and applauded. When Moe entered to the roar of the crowd, he not only got a double whammy beam shot of two Miller sister butts, he was witness to howling laughter, and general chaos.
The poor man probably thought he’d entered into a major orgy.
Moe stopped, frozen on the threshold when Mag, Wes and I rolled to a stop at his feet, all breathing hard. J.J. came in from the kitchen in time to see Moe throw him a helpless look. J.J. laughed, as he took in the scene of me flat on my back with a hand on Wes’ collar, Mag sprawled on her belly across Wes’ belly, and Wes panting, waving his black flag and grinning widely in doggy joy.
“I see you’ve met King Wesley, Moe. Welcome to the family. Come on in and join our nut house.”
“Phil.” Moe cautiously tiptoed around us and kept glancing over his shoulder as he followed J.J. into the kitchen. We collected ourselves and tried to put a semblance of order back into the room.
We picked up the fallen chair, righted the lamp, moved the footstool back across the room and picked up the pillows.
Hilary stood in the middle of all the activity, excited to be a part of it. She must have been really excited, because when Mag playfully poked her in the butt, Hill jumped and cracked off a doggy fart to end all doggy farts.
It fizzed long and hard. All movement stopped as everyone stared at Hilary. She was so proud of herself, she trotted toward me for a reward.
The stench, unfortunately followed her as well, and I found myself backing away from her. “Hill, go to Mag. Go on! Go to Maggie!”
Covering my nose, I passed Alejandro. When he got a whiff, he jumped up and followed me. We backed past Ian, who joined us as we pas
sed Mag. When J.J. and Moe came out of the kitchen, they saw the whole bunch of us headed for the front door, followed by a smelly Bulldog and a smiling Newfie.
Poor Hilary stopped and looked dolefully at J.J. He bent to rub her ears and said, “Yes, Hill, it’s your fault this time, but we love you anyway.” He poked his head out the front door. “Hey, you pansies get in here and quit messing around!”
We all filed back in and jockeyed for the best seats while Moe and J.J. spoke. J.J. hefted a large brown briefcase and directed his question to Alejandro.
“Montoya, does this belong to you?”
“No, J.J. It is a briefcase I found under the truck seat when I was in Mundelein. I never opened it. I told you, I saw Dr. Huerta in the show barn in Fort Worth carrying a brown briefcase, but it must have been a different one.”
He furrowed his brow. “At the time I thought it was strange, because all the important papers for the horses were in there, but then I thought maybe he grabbed the wrong case. I forgot about it when I spoke to you, but it should have been in the truck under the passenger seat where I left it.”
Moe nodded. “That’s where I found it.”
J.J. looked at the ceiling and closed his eyes. He rocked on his heels. “Alejandro, do you know what is inside this case?”
“No, Sheriff Green. I never opened it.”
J.J. blew out a breath. “I hope for your sake you’re telling me the truth, Montoya. With Huerta dead and this case hidden in your truck, the evidence would be pretty incriminating if this case contained something worth murdering for, don’t you think?”
Alejandro looked thoughtful. “Yes sir, I suppose you are right.”
