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

by Sue Hardesty

  Junior started to answer when Loni interrupted. “Junior, I need my files.”

  “Why?”

  “I need to check something in Chui's file.”

  “Why?”

  “Why what? I'm tired of asking you. Just give me back my goddamn files.”

  “No,” Junior said defiantly.

  Loni stood and jammed her fists on her hips. “What the fuck, Junior! You can't keep those files from me!”

  “Watch your mouth, Loni. And yeah, I can. I got them at home under lock and key so you can't mess with the evidence I'm gathering.”

  “Evidence for what?”

  “None of your business.” Junior stomped back to his desk.

  Sputtering, Loni threw her hands in the air before she plopped back down into her desk chair in frustration. Well, shit. What's that about? She wondered what to do next.

  Carl walked out of his office. “Hey Junior, I forgot to ask you. Did you find out whose Billy goats were in the mayor's back yard?”

  “Yeah. Farmer named Carter. Darndest thing though. They were numbered. You know? In the left ear. Two, three, four. I looked everywhere but I couldn't find number one.”

  Loni intently stared at him. “You really need to go find that goat, Junior.”

  Carl walked over to Junior. “Oh, god! How many people saw you looking for that goat?”

  Junior stood, frowning at Carl. “I asked everybody I saw if they saw it.”

  Carl leaned on the counter and howled with laughter. “Anybody see it?”

  “Everybody. But they kept giving me different directions.”

  “And you just kept looking?” Carl struggled to get back to a straight face.

  Lola shook her finger at Loni as she said soothingly to Junior, “Don’t worry. There is no Number One. Old man Carter always gives new cops a hard time just to laugh at them.”

  Junior looked daggers at Loni. “The farmer said there was another one. Said if we didn't find it he was going to sue the city and the police department.”

  Loni exploded in laughter that made tears roll down her cheeks. She didn’t stop until she started to hiccup as she watched Junior stalk back to his desk.

  Shaking her head, Lola picked up a fax from her desk and handed it to Loni. “Got a report back on Antonio Carillo. Looks like he's going to trial in Mexico.”

  “Good!” Junior sounded pleased. “I told them to keep him.”

  “What?” Loni was shocked. “Why?”

  “What'd he do?” Carl asked.

  “Nothing as far as I can tell,” Lola reluctantly answered. “According to this fax, they're using a law I never heard of. Mexico's federal penal code, Article IV. Mexican judge can try a Mexican citizen for crimes committed in other countries.”

  “See how procrastination pays?” Junior sat back with a pleased grin. “We don't have to pay his bills no more.”

  “He won't have a chance down there, Junior.” Loni said in amazement.

  Junior laughed. “What birds can't fly, Loni?”

  “Jail birds, and that's not funny.”

  “And you think I care?”

  “I keep forgetting what a heartless right-wing sonafabitch you are.”

  “He's a wetback and don't belong here. I'm sick and tired of this politically correct crap. So get off my back.”

  “You really do hate being a nice person, don't you?”

  Junior grinned and strolled out the door.

  Half hour later, Lola answered the police radio. “Caliente Police Department. How can I help you?”

  Loni watched Lola as she hung up the phone and turned to Loni. “There's a fight at the Last Stop Saloon.”

  “Early in the day for a fight,” Loni commented as she called Coco from behind Lola's counter.”

  “Maybe a bus is in and the passengers got drunk early.”

  Grateful to escape Lola's glare, she hurried out of the station. She parked in front of the bar and quietly shut the car door before she slipped in the door of the bar, Coco at her heels.

  The only action she saw in the quiet room were two cowboys sitting at the end of the bar, shoving and giggling like girls as they saw her come in. Beyond them, someone lurked in the shadows at the other end of the bar. Several people sat at the small tables circling a very small dance floor. They all seemed peaceful. “What’s going on?” Loni asked the barkeep.

  His shit-eating grin was as big and bright as his sign outside as he started giggling with the two cowboys.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Nothing. It was just a slight disagreement. Didn’t amount to anything, really.”

  Loni watched the barkeep and waited. Was it just her, or were kids looking younger every day? This one didn’t even look like he had to shave his broad jaw. Curling dark hair almost hid his blue eyes. She thought about carding him but then remembered he really was underage. He owned the bar, and for some reason the old chief let him tend it. “Who called, then?”

  The barkeep nodded toward a hallway. ”He’s in the john.”

  Loni looked around. ”What happened this time?”

  “Sam’s just got a nosebleed.” He pointed to the shadowed man at the end of the bar. “He’s too mean to hurt.”

  Between the rag and his hat pulled down over his forehead, his face was hidden until he turned toward Loni and looked up. The sad, defeated man had been a rancher famous for his rodeo skills. He team roped with his son, Phillip Daily, and they always won. Loni could see them in her mind's eye. Phil came out of the gate first, whooping and hollering as he swung the rope around his head, and his dad followed close behind. Together they were grace in motion. Phil was in Loni's year at school, and his folks came to every football game he played.

  “Kith my ath,” Sam flared at the barkeep, holding a bloody rag to his face. Blood spotted his dirty Levis, and his faded blue work shirt was stained with sweat. The wrinkled shirt looked as if he had slept in it for days.

  Sam rubbed his jaw and growled, ”Arres him.” He pointed to a young farmer sitting with a woman at a table. ”I thik he broke my nose.” He opened his mouth and wiggled his front teeth. ”Anth two foont theeth.” He tried to wiggle another tooth. “Theee!”

  Cringing at his bloody nose, Loni rubbed hers and turned to the barkeep, “Did he hit Sam?”

  He shrugged. ”Sam was havin’ a coughing fit.” Nodding toward the couple, he continued, “Patsy there got a Kleenex out of her purse and handed it to Sam. ‘It’s alright, Sam,’ she told him. ‘I’ve got a cold, too.’ So, Sam took the Kleenex, thanked her and then he says, ‘So, that was you I slept with last night?' Well, her husband there took offense and bopped him.” Still grinning, the barkeep picked up another glass, rubbed the outside, and stacked it on a shelf behind him.

  “Well, shith,” Sam said, still feeling his teeth. “I wath so drunk lath night, I don’t know who I wath with. Hey barkeep,” he said. ”Who wath I with?”

  “Your wife, stupid.”

  Sam took his hand out of his mouth and shook his head, muttering. ”Didn’t know I had one.” Taking his hat off, he shook his shaggy head and rubbed his jaw again, rough hands rasping like sandpaper over his three-day stubble.

  Trying not to grin, Loni felt Sam’s jaw. ”You should get an X-ray just to be sure it’s not cracked.” Backing off, she cringed. ”Might get a bath, too.” She scratched her head and wondered if he had fleas.

  “Don’t need one.” Sam was insulted. ”These Levis ain’t even standin’ up by themselves yet.”

  “How come you’re in here, Sam? I never saw you drink before.”

  Ignoring Loni's question, Sam turned back to his bottle.

  Loni walked back to the barkeep. “Sam come here often?”

  “Everyday most all day ‘til his wife drags him home.”

  Loni saw Junior walk out of the bathroom and scoot onto a barstool next to the two cowboys. Amazed, Loni confronted him. “You been here all this time?”

  “Yeah. So?”

  “You
called this in, you jerk.” Shaking in anger, Loni pushed out the door leaving behind laughter, an idiot, and a broken man.

  Shooing Coco in front of her, Loni walked through the door and up to Lola’s counter waiting for her to get off the phone. “You know why Sam Daily’s hangin’ out in the Last Chance Saloon staying drunk?”

  “Don’t you?”

  “Would I be asking if I did?”

  Tears filled Lola’s her eyes. “Last summer he was stringing wire out on the Winghall place. He had the wire clamped in the slice box and chained to a fence post. But when he pulled the pulley rope, he tightened the wire too tight and it broke, whipping a hundred feet of barbed wire through the air. It cut Phil's head off. His wife, Emogene, didn’t live long after that. He claims her broken heart just stopped.”

  “But the barkeep said she would come and get him.”

  Lola shook her head. “That was the wife's twin sister who's trying to look after him. He buried his wife two months ago.”

  “Where was I?” Loni wondered out loud.

  Lola reached her hand toward Loni. “He only had a short three-hour viewing in his living room before he took her home to her family in Colorado.”

  “Oh god! He lost both his kid and his wife. I'd stay drunk too."

  CHAPTER 1 1

  LONI SAGGED IN HER DESK CHAIR with her back to Lola, lost in thought when Carl's loud voice made her jump. “Loni! Get in here.”

  At least Carl's still speaking to me. Hoping it wasn't more trouble, Loni hurried into Carl's office. The sight of Carl’s calm, weathered face left her sighing in relief. She was also glad to see that his broad shoulders had lost their hunching from last July’s tragic mess at his ranch although his sandy hair had some new gray streaks.

  “Sit down and let me bring you up to speed.” Carl opened a folder in front of him. “James left for Phoenix this morning, working with the narcs. Looks like we're back on the case.”

  “Junior's got my files.”

  “You don't need them. We got way beyond that.” Carl shook his head in disgust. “Keeps him busy anyway. I'm fed up with his fuckups.”

  “Why do you keep him around?” Loni demanded.

  Silently, Carl handed Loni a map. His stare told her to drop it.

  Relieved she wasn’t the only one who couldn’t stand Junior, Loni spread out the map on Carl's desk. A yellow line marked Arizona and Mexico border trails from Yuma to Sonoyta.

  “Got this from Tully. It's the Sand Tank mountain range in the Cabeza Prieta Refuge. DEA thinks a motorcycle gang is pretending to be involved in the sand races and bringing drugs in through this area, but they can't seem to track anything to Caliente.”

  Loni ran her finger along a line wandering up and around Sand Tank. “Last time I saw that tank the windmill wasn't working. Didn't even have all its fan blades.” She rubbed the bump on her nose. “Any sign anyone hangin out in that shack at the windmill?”

  “Don't know. I'll ask.”

  Studying the map Loni had forgotten how close the Devil's Highway ran parallel to the border below Cabeza Preita. “I got a problem with this, Carl. How'd they decide to search here?”

  “Picked up a sand biker with a bag of our same cocaine.” Carl sat back in his chair. “He's not talking, but his passport and the permit for the Mexico visa had him crossing into Mexico through Hermosillo several times over the year. They figured the bikers traveled a back way through Cabeza Prieta to Caliente from Hermosillo, Mexico.”

  “But Carl, coming here makes no sense. If they're coming through the Cabeza, the shortest way is straight on into Phoenix. Why go so far out of their way?”

  Carl shrugged, rubbing his ear even harder. “I don't know, Loni.”

  “Let me get this straight. You think the dead biker and the biker that got arrested are both part of the sand dune cycle races over on the Yuma border. Right?”

  “State does. Tully's stayin' at the Palm Tree Mobile Home & RV Park over near Yuma. State put a trailer in there for reconnaissance.”

  “So you got nothing from the biker that connects him but his permits into Mexico?” Loni’s voice was thoughtful.

  “Didn't say that. Got some phone numbers off his phone. One to a bar in Algodenes, Mexico. Another to the bakery here in town.”

  Loni's head jerked up. “Our bakery?”

  Carl smiled at Loni's reaction. “Talked to Tommy already. He said they baked special cactus bread that the biker boys loved. They‘d call ahead and stop by occasionally to grab a few loaves.”

  “Strange,” Loni thought out loud.

  “What is?”

  “Bikers, maybe, love his bread. But Caliente isn't a regular route for sand bikers, especially for the Yuma crowd. I don't even remember seeing sand bikers around here.”

  “You're forgetting our dead biker outside town.”

  Loni shook her head. “Still...”

  “You ever taste Tommy's cactus bread?”

  “Nooo.” Loni muttered, “Wonder if Shiichoo would like it. Seems like everything she cooks lately is made of cactus.”

  Carl sat back. “’Bout this time she always sells me a bottle of cactus wine. Tell her I'm missin' it.”

  Loni snorted. “Tell her yourself. I'm not breaking the law for you.” She glanced down again studying at the map. “So what do you want me to do?” Loni asked, not sure she wanted to know.

  Carl sat back in his chair and pulled on his ear. “James is coming home to follow a lead he picked up in Phoenix. Didn't say what. Tully wants you to go to Algodenes where the sand races are. Wants you undercover for awhile.”

  Loni knew his ear pulling told her to be careful with him. She groaned a reluctant acceptance. “If you say so, Carl, but I gotta say, I really think it's a waste of time. We could track it easier if we could figure out where it is here in Caliente.”

  “Tully thinks James can do that. He thinks the sand bikers are the key and he wants you there.”

  “Why me?”

  “Nothing I can say, Loni. Tully heard you knew that country. Heard Bahb took you all over the border country looking for cattle to buy.”

  "True. Whenever we bought any Brahma mix, we had to stay thirty days below the border to make sure they didn't have any hoof and mouth disease." Loni sighed. “When do I go?”

  “Soon as James starts home. They're setting up a cover for you now.”

  “What's Junior doing while I'm gone? Working on my files?”

  “Hell yes, Loni. He's dangerous on his own, so leave him alone with ‘em, you hear? In fact, I need to see him. Send him in when you go.”

  Loni dragged her feet over to Lola's counter and tapped on Junior's shoulder. “Carl wants to see you, Junior. That is if you could stop panting and drooling over Lola long enough.”

  Lola sighed as she put her elbow on the counter top, rested her chin on her hand, and stared as Junior swaggered into Carl’s office. “He is a good looking cowboy.”

  Loni turned and stared at Lola in amazement. “Drugstore cowboy, maybe. Sounds like you’re in lust.”

  Lola stared back. “Jealous much?”

  “Not yet. Should I be?”

  “Maybe you should find someone to start dating.”

  “That what you're doing?” Loni shot back.

  “Maybe.”

  "Maybe you're just trying to piss me off."

  "How's that working?"

  “Well, then, maybe I'll ask Tori out?”

  “Tori who?”

  “The new veterinarian in town,” Loni said proudly.

  “Why would you ask her out? She's straight.”

  “No, she's not.”

  “Is.”

  “How do you know?” Loni asked suspiciously.

  “She showed me a picture of her husband. He was killed in Afghanistan.”

  Loni was continually amazed at how much Lola knew about the town. “But Willie...oh, shit. He caught me again.”

  “What are you talking about?

  “Back when we were docto
ring a cow that got into the jumping cactus, Tori came to help. Willie tried to convince me she was gay.”

  “Why would he do that?” Lola asked in amazement.

  Loni shrugged. “How would I know what he thought? Maybe humiliation is good for me?”

  Lola grinned. “Good thing you didn't ask her out. Anyway, she's still grieving, and she won't go out with anybody.”

  Carl hollered for Lola, and she smirked at Loni before she joined Junior in Carl’s office. Loni still wasn't used to seeing Carl in Chief’s office, and she had a harder time seeing Junior at Carl’s old desk. Loni was beginning to hate him, not just occasionally but most of the time. If I hear how they do it in Texas one more time! Loni sighed. Maybe it is a good thing I'm leaving for a few days.

  CHAPTER 12

  LONI HAD NOT SEEN THIS END of Highway 85 since she was a teenager and came with Bahb and Willie to help Essey Rigall gather his Santa Gertrudis cattle out of the Colorado River bottom brush. Nobody was better than Willie at rounding them up. As the desert rushed by, she noted the changes from the monsoon rains and the cooler fall weather. Colors looked brighter after the vegetation had soaked up the moisture. The saguaro cactus stood majestic in their new green, and the prickly pear sprouted new dark green pads. Greasewood leaves lost their withered silver look, and the thickets of mesquite trees along washes were colored in lacy lime-green colors.

  Loni soon found herself knocking on the door of a huge RV at the Palm Tree Mobile Home & RV Park. A tall, thin man with a dopey grin opened the door and grabbed Loni, dragging her through the door and giving her a long hug.

  “Hey, Tully! It's really good to see you again, too.” She still couldn’t believe the way he had changed from the sloppy, stupid cop he pretended to be when he was undercover last summer.

  “Hey, Apache, I'm glad to see you.” He joyfully dropped her in the middle of the living room.

  Looking around, she couldn’t believe what she saw. “Oh my god, are your sheets silk, too?”

  The huge smile on Tully's long, thin face showed gleaming white teeth in place of the false tobacco-stained ones she remembered from last summer. “Nice, huh?”

  “Oh, yeah. I suppose this came from a drug bust.”