High Court (Cid Garrett P.I. Book 2)

by Alexie Aaron

  “In August of 1964, Roland’s dad came to us with a proposition. He wanted us to help him win his election to the United States Senate. I thought it was going to be printing materials, handing out flyers, and knocking on doors. I didn’t think otherwise when I was enlisted to pick up the printing press from Denver. I thought it was for the campaign. Kenny was an artist, and for a while we were printing an underground comic book. Roland’s dad seemed alright with that. It wasn’t until that fateful day that we found out what the press was really for.

  “Mark had just popped some pills when Evert Wilson arrived at the cabin. He walked in carrying a printer plate. ‘Come on, boys, time to earn your keep.’ We followed him into the cellar, and Kenny put the plate on the machine and adjusted the printer. Soon we were printing ballots, thousands of them. Every so often, Evert would pick up one and examine it. It was important that it was identical to the ballots that the Gazette had already printed for the commission. He had us run the exact amount that the Gazette did. We were on the final run when Evert came back. He pulled the last sheet up and looked at it carefully. ‘It’s identical, identical, identical.’ He couldn’t have been more pleased.

  “That’s when we heard the sound in the boiler room. Mark turned around to see Miguel Bautista running up the stairs. No one was too concerned because we had Luminosa by the tits. If we went down, she went down. She would quiet her kid. Then the kid started chucking rocks and pieces of bricks down the steps. One hit Roland. He went ballistic. He picks up one of the guns and starts for the stairs. Kenny grabs his arm to stop him. Roland put the muzzle of the gun to Kenny’s head and pulls the trigger, spraying Kenny’s brains all over Jason who went nuts. Roland empties the gun into the guy. We were all trying to hide because Roland was nuts.

  “He reloaded the gun and went up the stairs. ‘You there, Lamb, do something. He’s your best friend,’ Evert screams. ‘Dodd, help me clean this up. Grab the ballots. No not the ones with the blood. Use your head!’

  “Mark was high. His idea of helping Roland was not to stop him, but to hunt down all the Bautistas and kill them. ‘No witnesses,’ he kept saying as he climbed the stairs. I started to follow him, but Evert kept screaming at me to help him. We got most of his precious ballots out of the cellar and got them to his car that was parked out by the old road. That’s when we heard the shots. It sounded like a spaghetti western soundtrack. Evert took off. I ran home. I’ll never forget the look on my father’s face when I told him what was happening at High Court. He put on his uniform and was heading out when he got a phone call. It was Evert Wilson. I didn’t know what Wilson said to turn my father from a lawman to a cleaner. I expected it had something to do with me. Maybe he lied and said I killed Kenny and Jason. We never talked about it. He grabbed me and tossed me in my room. ‘You stay here, and don’t leave until I open the door. If you have to piss, piss in this,’ he handed me a jar and then locked me in.

  “The next day Evert Wilson and Mayor Lamb came to the house. Evert presented Roland’s firearm. Lamb had already taken Mark to rehab and didn’t know where his gun was. ‘You have to do something about your boy,’ my father told Wilson. Wilson assured him that Roland would be locked up for the rest of his life. That’s when they asked him to clean up our mess. Promises were made, and it wasn’t until my father died and his blackmail materials were passed on to me, that I knew what he had done that day. The only thing that bothered him was that when he came back to take care of the workers’ bodies, they were already gone. He kept a journal of all the payments the Lambs and the Wilsons made to his retirement account. There was no way that the Wilsons and the Lambs were going to be able to explain what they had done every month for thirty odd years.

  “We never talked about it. Not until my dad was on his deathbed. He asked me, and I told him. He said, ‘All this time, I thought you had killed Kenny and Jason, that I was cleaning up your mess in that room.’ I looked at my father and my heart broke, and I grew cold inside. I told him, ‘How can you be my father and not know me?’ Well, after we buried my old man, I presented myself to the Wilsons and the Lambs and informed them that the payments would continue. And they did.”

  “Did you ever go back to High Court?” Cid asked.

  “Once, when the last motel enterprise failed, we decided to burn the place down. The three of us arrived together. I think we had six gallons of gasoline between us, and I think Roland had some fireworks. The idea was that the place would appear to have burned down because of some stupid kids deciding to shoot off some fireworks and the woods starting on fire. Everything was planned down to having Stepner’s fire department in Denver participating in a parade, showing off their new equipment, courtesy of the deep pockets of the town. The local rangers were on a seminar, and they only had one lookout for the thousand acres of woodland. This was probably the only day that there would be no problems in burning down the motel.

  “We left the cars on the old road and hiked in. We started pouring gas, soaking the old dry wood. When we got to the office area, Roland stops and turns to Mark and says, ‘Do you remember the shocked look on the Mexican bitch’s face when we shot her?’

  “Mark looks at him and says, ‘You shot her, I shot her daughter, and then we shot the boys so full of bullets they danced as they fell.’

  “I was sick to my stomach and walked away to retch. Mark warns me, ‘Watch where you barf, cuz that’s where we found that fucking kid that threw rocks at us.’ I turned and looked at the two men. All these years later, and there wasn’t an ounce of remorse between them. I prayed every night for my part in it. That’s when I saw the dark mass that rose up behind them. I couldn’t talk. I just pointed. Roland turns around, screams, drops his gas can, and starts running. Mark takes out a gun. I suspected he was planning to kill me before they lit the fire. He fired into the mass, but nothing happened. It just got bigger and bigger. Mark takes off running. I stayed, frozen to the spot. Out of the mass walked Luminosa Bautista. She stood staring as if she didn’t know what had happened to her. She sunk to her knees and started crying. That’s when I ran away. None of us has been back since.”

  “Why didn’t you turn yourself in?” Calvin asked.

  “Somehow, in my befuddled mind, I thought that living with the memory, of what I was part of, to be punishment enough. That I was punishing the Wilsons and Lambs by taking their money. That they couldn’t forget their part because monthly they would have to authorize a funds transfer. I’ll go to hell for my crimes, but I’ll give them hell on earth before I leave. Now, get off this fucking boat. I have no more to say.”

  “You need medical assistance,” Cid said. “Let us take you to the hospital.”

  “No. I’ll live. Go. Tell Luminosa I’m sorry for my part in this.”

  Calvin put his hand on Cid’s shoulder. “Come on, his mind is made up.”

  “I’ll cast you off,” Cid said, climbing down the ladder.

  “Why did you come here and stir her up again?” Dodd called after Calvin.

  “I came for justice,” Calvin said and followed Cid off the boat.

  Cid bent down to lift the rope off the post. Grady put a hand on Cid’s “Don’t,” he warned. “No one gets away.”

  Dodd tried to start the boat, but aside from a rapid fire clicking, nothing happened. He eased himself down the ladder and moved towards the hatch covering the engine.

  “Hank Dodd!” Grady called, shining a light on the man. “I’d like you to come with me.”

  “Who’s that?” Dodd asked, putting his hand up to shade his eyes from the brightness of Grady’s flashlight.

  “Sheriff Will Grady of Stepner County. My two deputies are already on the boat. Surrender, and you will be taken to the hospital and guarded until your full statement can be taken.”

  “I want a deal,” Dodd said, raising his hands.

  “I think Mr. Franks has been generous enough,” Grady said and nodded to his men who assisted Dodd off the boat, mindful of his injuries.

 
; ~

  Calvin and Cid waited for Grady in front of the station. The sheriff smiled as he got in the sedan. “You didn’t have to wait, or even include me, for this, sirs. I am grateful.”

  “Will, I came here to find justice for the dead, but I have also made a few good friends. Now, if you would be so kind to direct me to the bus station.”

  Grady laughed. “I guess the private jet set doesn’t travel by bus. Make a right, two lights down. It’s on the left. You can’t miss it.”

  Cid heard her before she shimmered slightly. Faye had found him. He heard a very faint, “Shove over, Miguel needs room.”

  Cid’s eyes opened wide. He worked out quickly that to let the other men know that the sedan was being used as a taxi for two ghosts may cause the driver to lose control. So he moved over and kept his mouth shut.

  Calvin pulled off the road and parked in the “fifteen minutes or less” spot. The three men got out, trailed by the ghosts. The group stood in front of Locker 64 while Calvin pulled the key from his pocket. He pushed it into the lock and opened the door. Inside was a journal, a wooden case – probably containing the two .38 Specials and six evidence bags.

  “We’ll take those,” a man said behind them.

  The three turned around to see two large men, one holding a semiautomatic rifle trained on the them. Grady closed his eyes. They must have picked them up at the sheriff’s station. He blamed himself for making Calvin and Cid wait so long outside.

  Faye manifested dressed like Elvira, Mistress of the Dark. Miguel appeared as his frightening self. Faye hissed at the man holding the gun, distracting him long enough for Grady to strike the enforcer’s arm. The weapon fell to the ground.

  Cid launched himself at the other stunned man, who couldn’t get the sight of Miguel’s dead and dripping body out of his mind, and managed to wrestled him to the ground, pulling his right arm up behind him until the man screamed, “Stop! For God’s sake, stop!”

  Grady handed Cid a zip tie, and he secured the thug’s hands behind him.

  Cid kept a knee on the guy’s back while Grady arrested the two, making sure he was very clear when he read them their rights.

  Calvin looked over at the bewitching female ghost and the brave little boy. “You planned this getup, didn’t you?”

  “Miguel did. He said, if we were ever in a bad spot, we should horrify the bad guys. Coming up with something horrible took me a while, but then I remembered Jesse watching Elvira reruns on his old TV. The woman’s taste has something to be desired.”

  “Dear, don’t take this the wrong way, but Elvira is very desirable,” Calvin said and winked.

  Faye blushed.

  “You’re not supposed to be able to do that,” Cid chided. “Ghosts don’t blush, no blood.”

  “Oh pooh,” Faye said. “Come on, Miguel, let’s go and see what kind of trouble Macy has gotten into.”

  They disappeared just as the sounds of sirens filled the air.

  “That should be my backup. I expect they were sleeping on the job,” Grady grumbled.

  “Liar. You just called them,” Cid said. “You better treat them better or you’re going to lose them to someone who will pay them more.”

  “No, they are homegrown and want to stay here. I don’t know what it is about Stepner, but no one ever wants to leave.”

  “Not even the dead,” Cid said.

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Macy squeezed out of the crowded Coffee Café carrying their latest offering, Carmel Salt Seduction. When she pushed herself through the last of the people standing in line and smacked into the priest, she thought God was trying to tell her to mend her caffeinated ways, or at least limit her intake.

  “I’m sorry, Father,” she said, dabbing at the priest’s black jacket with her napkin.

  “No, please, I wasn’t watching. I’m a bit lost. I started off at the parish house and was heading to the Gazette to meet a friend there.”

  “I’m the Gazette! No, I mean I work there. Actually, I’m the managing editor. Editor Runs Off at the Mouth.”

  “I’m Father Santos.”

  “You’re Cid’s Santos… I mean priest, not that you’re owned by Cid but…”

  Father Santos chuckled.

  “I’m doing it again.”

  “You seem excited.”

  “Well, lots of exciting things are going on. But I can’t say anything because they are all off the record!”

  “You and I have similar problems.”

  “The confessional… Editor Gets Points for Quick Observation,” Macy said proudly.

  “The Gazette?”

  “This way,” Macy directed. “I’m hoping, when this is finished, to print the story of Luminosa Bautista and her family. They were murdered where your friend works, fifty-three years ago.”

  “I’m aware of the story.”

  “Did you know that Luminosa haunts the motel?”

  “Yes, this is why I have come.”

  “Her son haunts me, but don’t take him unless he wants to go,” Macy pleaded.

  “I’m not in the business of kidnapping little boy ghosts, just offering them an alternative.”

  “They, the Bautistas, believe in something called the Elysian Fields instead of Heaven.”

  Father Santos just let Macy chatter. She unknowingly was filling in the blanks that Cid had left open.

  “Oh, and there’s Mr. Baylor. He haunts the Gazette.”

  “Oh dear, two ghosts in one building.”

  “There may be more. I’ll have to ask Sam.”

  “Sam?”

  “He’s my maintenance chief. He’s a real smart guy and handsome like you. Editor Blabs Innermost Secrets.”

  Father Santos stopped and took her hand in his. “You’re a bright, smart woman, and I thank you for your compliment. I sense though, you should be complimenting Sam, if he is available.”

  Macy blushed. “He is, but he works for me.”

  “Do you have a no-fraternization clause in your contract?”

  “No, but… What if it goes wonky?”

  “I’m not a worldly man, but it seems to me, you available young people waste too much time on what-ifs.”

  “Editor Duly Chastised.”

  Cid leaned against one of the trees that fronted the Gazette building as he read the paper. He heard the deep baritone of Father Santos before he saw him. Macy and he were having a personal conversation. Cid didn’t even try not listening, but when it became evident that Macy was speaking about having feelings for someone other than him, he felt guilty. Even though Macy wasn’t a complication he needed right now in his life, he still liked her. If they couldn’t be lovers, they still could be friends, couldn’t they?

  “Cid! Look who I found! Your Father Santos!” Macy said happily, rushing up the sidewalk, pulling Father Santos along behind her.

  “Father Santos, thank you for coming. My truck is across the street.”

  “Do you have to leave right away? I would love for my father to meet you,” Macy asked the priest.

  Father Santos looked over at Cid. “Perhaps a few minutes?”

  “You know she’s recruiting you for the paper,” Cid said. “Before you know it, you’ll be the new agony aunt.”

  Macy hit Cid on the arm.

  Father Santos laughed.

  Cid followed the two into the building. He declined the offer of continuing on to Maury Eggleston’s office. He chose instead to admire the woodwork of the foyer and the stairs. There was a lot that could be learned from old wood fixtures. Cid squatted down and ran his hand along the rich amber patina. He saw that the joining of the wood to the wall was done with an unfamiliar type of nail, and sometimes a wood peg.

  Cid heard a mop bucket being pushed down the hall. It stood out just slightly from the clicking of groomed fingernails on keyboards above him and the roar of the presses underneath. Cid turned to see a ghost slowly manifest out of the shadowy hall.

  “Can I help you?” Mr. Baylor asked Cid.

/>   “I was just admiring the woodwork of this building. It has stood up well over the years.”

  “Wax and oil soaps are all that I used in my day. There are areas that the sun has bleached through the windows that still need attention.”

  “The sun can age us all,” Cid said, standing up. “Mr. Baylor, I presume?” Cid said, reaching out his hand. “I’m Cid Garrett.”

  “This is novel,” Baylor said as he wiped his hand first on the work rag tied at his waist and then extended his hand and connected with Cid’s.

  The ghost’s hand felt like a piece of sanded wood to Cid. “You took splendid care of this place. Are you ready to move on?”

  “Must I?”

  “No. But there is a priest in the building who could open some doors for you.”

  “Ah… I think I’ll stick around a while longer. I almost have Sam trained. I’ll reassess my options then.”

  “Good.”

  “Thank you for asking,” Mr. Baylor said. “Please excuse me, Mr. Garrett, I must continue my rounds.”

  “Watch over Macy for me,” Cid asked.

  “That I will,” Mr. Baylor said and disappeared.

  Cid’s phone vibrated. He looked at the caller and walked outside to take the call.

  “Hello, this is Cid.”

  “Grady. We, Calvin and me, have decided to break the news to Roland Wilson and Mark Lamb at the motel. I have talked to the U.S. Attorney, and the evidence that we would need to convict Roland of voter fraud isn’t strong. Besides, the man who benefited most is dead. Can’t prosecute a corpse. The U.S. Attorney feels that we should go ahead and charge Roland with two counts of murder for the deaths of Ken Smith and Jason Lake. We can’t get him or Mark for something Dodd heard but did not see. We have no eye witness for the actual shootings of the Bautistas, even though we have the physical evidence.”

  “So there will be no justice for Luminosa?”

  “Not unless we get a confession from one or both of them. Hence, my decision to lure them to High Court.”

  “How?”