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Bus Stop at the Last Chance (Loni Wagner Western Mystery Book 2)

Page 11

by Sue Hardesty


  “Yes, Judge Sal.”

  “Your Honor!” Judge Sal corrected more loudly. “Did you give the money back?”

  Ronnie Dobbs looked around the courtroom for Loni in the crowded audience. Finally finding her, he pointed. “She did, Your Honor, on our way back into town.”

  “Stand up, Loni.” The judge stared her. “Anyone hurt?”

  “No, Your Honor,” Loni said somberly.

  “Anyone mad?”

  “Just me, Your Honor. Had to duck his shotgun.”

  The judge stared at Ronnie. “You shot at a cop?”

  “Well I missed, didn't I?”

  The judge stared at Janet. “You came all the way from Boston for this case?”

  Janet shrugged but kept her mouth shut. Loni grinned. Wonder what Janet thinks about the judge trying the case for her?

  “You here for any other reason?”

  Janet grinned.

  Picking up the mallet the judge slammed it down. “Case dismissed. Court adjourned.”

  “Wait! Wait! Judge Sal,” the jury foreman hollered as he stood up. “What about us?”

  “George, shut up and sit down. Bailiff, dismiss the jury.” She stood and pointed her finger at Ronnie. “You tell your daddy I'm fining him ten thousand dollars.” Turning to Loni, she said, “Make sure he’s got gas in his car and send him home.” She stuck her finger out at Janet. “I'll see you in my chambers. Now!”

  “All rise!”

  Loni leaned forward to Janet as the people milled about to leave the courtroom and asked, “So I'd guess you already know Judge Sal. Ever been in her chambers before?”

  “No. Something I should know?”

  “Before you get too impressed, you might want to remember this,” Loni nodded toward the district attorney shoving papers in his briefcase while he shot dirty looks at Janet. “That's her husband, George Suttig.” Laughing at the deer-caught-in-the-headlight expression on Janet's face, Loni grabbed Ronnie by the scuff of his neck and pushed out of the courtroom. She grinned all the way to Ronnie’s beat-up jalopy.

  CHAPTER 9

  AN HOUR AFTER SUNRISE Loni pulled up to a tired roadside bar and climbed out of her truck to wait for Harry Beal. A Tucson police SUV pulled up beside her, and a tall weather-beaten cowboy got out. Harry Beal’s warm smile and crinkling eyes belied his tone when he said, “What the hell is that thing?” Harry pointed at her truck. “Don’t tell me you paid good money for it.”

  Loni winced as she slid down from the seat of her tall truck. “Got a good deal on it.”

  She held out her hand that got swallowed in his huge paw. “How was that possible?”

  “It was free?”

  A blast of a laugh came out of Harry. “Still got taken.”

  Loni shrugged. “So. We met here because?”

  Harry grimaced and said, “We found her body off San Pedro Road.” He walked her over to his SUV and climbed back in. “A biker saw buzzards circling and got curious.”

  Getting into the passenger’s side of the SUV, Loni asked, “Buzzards do much damage?”

  “Not much. She was pretty well rolled up in a horse blanket with just her hair sticking out of one end. Feet were gone though.”

  Despite the gruesome description, Loni smiled to herself as she looked around. The SUV was just like the one she had driven back when she was a highway patrol officer. Except the refrigeration worked in this one. “Can I see the blanket?”

  “Sure. It’s in the evidence lock-up at the station. Couple of boys Manny team-tied with said they thought it belonged to him.”

  Harry pulled out onto the long empty road to the crime site and changed the subject, talking about James and the good times they had in Mexico. He knew a very different person that the James who made Loni's life miserable back then. After about twenty minutes, Harry turned the SUV onto a dirt road and followed a faint desert trail. Greasewoods scratching against the car reminding Loni of unoiled screen doors or, even worse, nails on a blackboard. They crossed a deep wash, and Harry parked on the other side. He said, “We have to walk in from here.”

  Loni trotted behind Harry, trying to keep up with his long legs striding through the brush. When they reached the site, he pointed to the ground. “Well, here it is. She laid right there. Nothing left to see.”

  Loni carefully walked around the area and inspected the ground. “Find signs of anyone else here besides the killer?”

  “Just the footprints of the guy who found her. He didn't get too close before the smell backed him off.”

  “How'd he know it was a body?”

  “He could see the bleached blond hair on the top of her head. The killer did leave in a hurry though.” Harry pointed down a few feet over, behind a tall saguaro cactus. “Spin marks. He scattered rocks and plants getting out of here.” Harry waited for Loni to look around. “Matched the tire tread on Manny’s four-wheeler. Too rocky to match an individual tire for any nicks or cuts, but we got enough tread to match the make.”

  “Poor Manny,” Loni said. “He just keeps stepping in it.” She squatted down to pick up a small plant. “Looks like he really peeled out of here.” Loni fingered the small leaves. “Did you check in the tread of his tires or undercarriage for any debris from the scene? Maybe some of this plant is stuck somewhere.”

  “Nah. Probably burned away from road heat if it was in a tire. Don’t see what that would prove anyway. That stuff grows everywhere.”

  “This one doesn’t. My granddad says it’s rare.” Looking around, Loni continued, “He was mostly raised on the O’odham Nation. I learned that knowing plants means survival.” Loni held out the small plant. “This looks like a False Cloak Fern.”

  “Guess we could check. Maybe a leaf got caught somewhere.”

  “Any other suspects to look at?”

  “Not really.”

  “What about the husband? Manny said they were getting a divorce.”

  Harry shook his head. “I heard they were getting back together.”

  “Who said that?”

  “I guess it was him.”

  Loni snorted. “Sounds like a good alibi.”

  Harry called his partner to check for any plant debris on the tire treads on Manny’s pickup in the impound yard. By the time they got back to Loni’s truck, Harry agreed to let her follow him to the Tucson station to see what his partner found. A small wiry Hispanic, Pete Sanchez wore a green striped western shirt and Levis. “Manny’s truck was clean. Not even pebbles in the tire,” Pete said as he pulled on the strings of his black bolo tie. "Looked like it never got off the highway."

  “Could I see the saddle blanket?” Loni asked.

  “You bet.” Pete motioned her to follow him.

  Harry took the tagged blanket beside the evidence box, removed its plastic casing and unrolled it on a table. Loni was glad she hadn’t eaten breakfast as her nose filled with the odor of decomposing blood. Hands locked behind her, she stood back far enough not to touch the blanket, but close enough to look. “Hey Pete,” Loni asked. “Isn’t Manny’s horse a grey and black appaloosa?

  “I have no idea.”

  “And Manny’s hair is black.”

  “So?”

  “Don't you think it's strange that the hair colors on that blanket are blond and sorrel?”

  Harry ruefully shook his head. “Didn’t run a check on this blanket for the DNA, did we?” He took the small magnifying glass and tweezers out of his pocket kit and studied the blanket. “Got another bag?” he asked Pete, who looked like he wanted to escape.

  Harry picked horse and human hair out of the blood and dropped it into the bag. Pete laughed low and whispered, “Harry messed up his smeller snorting drugs.”

  “I heard that!” Harry laughed. “I didn't, you lying sack of shit!” Rolling up the blanket, he shoved it back in its slot and caught up with Loni and Pete leaving the evidence room. “I think we might find a tag here. If not, we should have plenty of markers.”

  “Does her husband have a h
orse, too?” Loni asked.

  “You know, I think so.” Harry said thoughtfully. He turned to Pete. “Didn't Manny say something about meeting the girlfriend at a roping?”

  “We could find out.”

  “Why not get the husband’s DNA while we’re at it.” Harry clamped Loni on the shoulder as they escaped the smell in the cage. He grinned. “Now that you've given us more work, you might as well help us check his truck and the horse out.”

  Loni climbed into the backseat of the patrol car, hoping the husband had a horse. “Nothing's this easy,” she said doubtfully.

  “Yeah,” Pete agreed. “That's what we thought when we found Manny in her house. How stupid was that?” They were quiet a minute before Pete sighed. “I think we got used to stupid people making our job easier. Remember last week, Harry? That anti-abortion clinic we got called out on?”

  Harry nodded. “Sure. It did adoptions and provided clothes for the babies.”

  “And information on abstinence. They called us because it was tagged with swastikas and words like baby killers.”

  “And?” Loni asked.

  “The tags were signed. And we knew the religious group who did it.” Harry laughed.

  “Are you trying to tell me the right-wing protesters attacked their own clinic?”

  “I am.”

  Pete snorted. “They had no idea what kind of a clinic it was. A sign over the door said ‘Pregnancy Center,’ and they took it from there.”

  “Couldn’t bother to ask?”

  “The know-it-alls don’t think.”

  “Yeah.” Pete said. “I have an aunt like that. The more you prove her wrong, the more she's convinced she's right.”

  “Did James ever tell you about the stupid thing he did with his old desert buggy down in Mexico?”

  “No,” Loni answered. “But I bet I could guess.”

  “He was way ahead of the rest of the cars so he decided to scare the shit out of us. He and the two kids with him turned the jalopy on its side, and they lay around like they were dead.” Harry grinned in memory. “We ran around them waving our arms until one of them started giggling.”

  Pete laughed. “Bet you were ready to beat the shit out of them when you figured it out.”

  Harry hooted. “Nah, we got the last laugh. The gas ran out of the jalopy while it was on its side and we left them there. It was a four-mile walk to where we camped. In the hot sun.”

  Waiting for Harry's raucous laugh to finish, Loni looked around. “Anybody know where we're going?”

  Pete turned to her and grinned. “You lost?”

  “Usually.” Loni grinned back. “Got no iron in my nose hair to tell me direction like you do.”

  “Well, looky here.” Harry pulled into a driveway and stopped. “Soon enough for you?” Turning off the car, Harry and Pete climbed out.

  Pete held the back door open for Loni. “Want to come and help us? Better yet, do it yourself?”

  Loni grinned back. “Too close to Manny. Might get accused of tainting evidence. I better stay here and wait.” Loni watched the men knock on the door of a yellow prefab house. A blond man opened the door and let them in. Climbing out of the car, Loni looked around at the small barn and pasture land around the house. Three horses stood in the shade of a Eucalyptus tree. One of them was a sorrel.

  A half hour later the two men climbed back into the car. Harry showed Loni a small plastic bag. “Wasn't any in the tire tread, but I did find this stuck up under the wheel well.”

  Pete frowned. “Cleanest damn truck I ever saw. Good thing he missed the underneath.”

  Harry drove away, talking nonstop. “He had a sorrel horse in a back pasture. So now we have to get a subpoena to get the DNA from the horse. And Jacob.” Harry gave the steering wheel a pound with the side of his fist. “And I was trying to show a fellow cop how good we are,” he said teasingly to Loni.

  Staring at the bag Pete held up, Loni nodded at the battered plant leaves. “Looks like False Cloak Fern leaves to me.”

  “We'll send them in for a DNA match as soon as we can,” Harry snorted in amazement. “Boy, I didn’t expect that. Well, shit, Pete. I guess we really messed up.”

  “At least we get a chance to fix it.”

  It was midnight by the time Loni got back to Caliente. She dialed the phone, assuming she would be leaving a message at this late hour. When Lola answered, Loni blurted, “Lola? Is that really you?”

  “Loni?”

  “What are you doing answering your phone?” Loni asked in surprise. “It's so late.”

  “If you call back, I could put the machine on.”

  Loni laughed. “Funny.”

  “Not really. How's Manny?”

  “He's going to be alright. I can’t tell you how I know, but he should be home soon.”

  “Thank God.” Loni could hear the relief in Lola’s voice. “You sure?”

  “Nothing’s for sure, Lola. You know that.”

  Suddenly Lola’s voice had the edge back. “If you're not sure, maybe you should go back down there and make sure.”

  “Goodnight, Lola,” Loni said and flipped her cell phone closed, grumbling to herself, “Well, shit! That went well.”

  CHAPTER 10

  LONI WAS IN GREAT SPIRITS when she walked into the station the next morning until she found Junior sitting at her desk. “What the hell, Junior?”

  “You weren't here.”

  “Use your own goddamned desk.”

  “Ain't proper for girls to swear.” Junior admonished her.

  Loni grabbed the chair where he sat and spun it away from her desk. “Get out of my chair now, Junior. And while you're at it, move your crap off my desk.” Loni looked again. “Wait a minute. Are those my folders?”

  “Nope.” With deliberation, Junior picked up the folders and ambled over to his desk. “I've got those files at home and I’m not givin’ them back.” Spreading the folders out like a fan, Junior sat and turned back to Loni. “You know why you didn’t solve this drug case? You just rushed over all the evidence and didn’t even see it. We need to move careful on this so you don't make any more mistakes.”

  “What do you mean any more mistakes?”

  “Didja solve it? Didja?” Junior shot back at her.

  “Well then, tell me what you've done.” Loni demanded.

  “I told you, Tonto, I'm not ready yet.”

  “Next time you call me Tonto, I’ll shoot off your dick.”

  Junior laughed. “Temper, temper. Can't take a little teasing?” Grinning big, he added. “You'd need a 12 gage shotgun for my dick. Shooting that would knock you on your ass.”

  “I swear you're as dumb as old Tex who used to live up the river.”

  “Oh, yeah? What'd he do?”

  “He tried to repair a combine one day while it was still running. Lost part of his finger. His brother walked up and said, 'Well, hell. How'd you do that?' Well Tex stuck his finger back into the combine and came out with another joint missing and said, 'Just like that!'”

  “At least I got a dick. Where’s yours?”

  “You know what! You're just as much a bigot as one of our past governors. When he got accused of racism, he said, 'I ain't no racist. Why, when I was little, I even played with pickaninnys.' Before long people had bumper stickers that said ‘Pick a Ninny. Pick Meech for Governor.’ I could make one up for you.”

  “What did you just say?”

  Loni dropped into her chair, still warm from Junior's butt, and turned away from him just as she heard Carl call Junior into his office. Behind her, Loni heard Junior ask Lola, “What's a pickaninny?” Loni watched him leave while she restlessly tapped a pencil like a drum stick on a squat mug covered with playful dragons. She had just put malt balls into it, and the sound of the filled cup produced a low tone so mesmerizing that it took a few minutes before Lola got through to her.

  “Would you stop that!” Lola's green eyes sparked as she shook a finger at Loni, her agitated movements jangling the co
lorful metal bracelets on her arm. “It's driving me nuts.”

  Loni dropped the pencil like a piece of a hot coal and sat back, red-faced. “Sorry.”

  “What are you thinking about so hard?”

  “Nothing.” She had a tough time facing Lola this morning. They hadn’t talked since Loni called her when she got back from Tucson. Should I ignore what happened? Try to apologize for something I am really not sorry for?

  “If you're thinking about helping Manny any further to get back into my good graces, forget it. Junior's taken care of it.”

  “Took care of what? There was nothing to take care of.”

  “Do you see Manny home yet?”

  Shrugging, Loni looked down at the report she was trying to finish. A shadow loomed over her, and she saw Junior stuffing a handful of malt balls into his mouth. “Hey!” Loni grabbed her mug. “Don't eat those!”

  “Why not?” Junior mumbled.

  “Cuz I just picked them up off the holding tank floor.” The dimples in Loni's cheeks deepened as she watched Junior spit out the brown goo.

  “Loni, stop it!” Lola's voice turned shrill as she insisted, shaking her finger at Loni as her stacked bracelets exploded in ringing jangles. “That’s the third time you pulled that shit! It's not funny anymore.”

  “Dadgum!” Junior sputtered, grabbing a Kleenex from Loni’s desk.

  “So,” Loni kept grinning as Junior brushed crumbs of chocolate and smeared them into dark brown streaks down his red and white checked shirt front. One large blob of brown perched on a snap pearl.

  “One of these times somebody’s going to spit them on you if you don’t quit saying that!” Lola warned Loni. “And I’m not going to help you clean up.”

  “Or might slap you silly,” Junior warned.

  The sight of Junior’s glower made Loni’s grin widen. “Only way I can keep some for myself.”

  “You could keep them in a drawer,” Junior spat at her.

  “What’s the fun of that?”

 

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