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

by Sue Hardesty

  “I'm not sure. Every time you come into my office I end up with a whole lot of trouble.”

  Loni laughed. “Shoulda stayed on the ranch if you wanted a peaceful life.”

  Carl leaned back in his chair and pulled on an ear. “What is it this time?”

  Loni eyed the chair in front of his desk, remembering how uncomfortable it was. She continued to stand. “I'd really like to sit on Minnie's Well a few nights to catch those coyotes working out of there.”

  “You really think you can?”

  “Don't know why not. This is the fifth time the past three months we've dealt with undocumented people who got dumped there. I know there have been others that didn't make it to help. From the looks of the trash and tire marks everywhere, they spend a lot of time hanging out and they don't seem to be very careful.”

  Carl took several minutes thinking before he leaned forward, his elbows on the desk. “It's worth a try. I think you need to wait a night or two before they come back. I also want you to take James with you. It's too dangerous alone.”

  “Well, shit, Carl. For the first time in my life I just got on his good side. He'll hate me after this.”

  “Blame me. Tell him I ordered it.”

  Shaking her head, Loni walked back to her desk to finish filling in her report.

  She looked up from her work when she heard Lola on the phone. “I’m sorry, say that again?” Loni’s ears perked up at the stress in Lola's voice, and she turned to watch her. “You say she got into Old Man Morris’s car?” Hanging up, Lola turned to Loni. “You need to find Old Man Morris. He just drove away with a woman who robbed the convenience store.”

  “Robbed what? Who? My god!”

  “You know his black Caddy, don’t you?”

  Loni hurried out of the station just as the ancient car slowly rolled by. “Well, shit!” she sputtered out loud to herself, not believing her eyes. As the Caddy failed to obey the stop sign and crawled around the corner, she sprinted forward. Out of breath when she caught up to the car, she banged on the driver’s window with the butt of her gun and motioned for him to get out of the car. The car slammed to a stop as large round eyes stared back at her.

  "Mr. Morris! Roll the window down." Loni pointed her gun at a gaunt and tired woman in her late fifties. She held a brown paper sack in her lap.

  Staring at Loni with disbelief, the old man shook his head and rolled the window down an inch, hollering out, “Not letting in the heat. What you want?”

  “Mr. Morris. Roll down the goddamned window!”

  The window went down two more inches, and the old man snapped, “Don’t be rude, young lady. Your grandma raised you better than that. And get that gun outta my face!”

  “Mr. Morris. For the last time. Roll down the window.”

  Five inches later, the old man yelled, “What!”

  “Who’s your passenger, Mr. Morris?” Loni’s gun was still pointed at the passenger.

  “My boarder, Mrs. Piller. Why you pointing a gun at her?”

  “Mrs. Piller, get out of the car. Hands out first so I can see them.”

  “Can’t you ask her polite? You crawl out of the devil's bed?” the old man hollered.

  “Maybe so,” Loni muttered as she edged around the hood to the passenger’s side. “Hands, ma’am. Show me your hands.”

  Calmly looking at Loni, the woman opened the door and slowly pushed her way out.

  “Hands please, ma’am. Now!”

  “What the hell are you doing, Loni? That’s no way to treat a nice lady!” Old Man Morris screamed at Loni.

  “Are you part of this?” Loni asked him through the open passenger door.

  “Part of what?” Mr. Morris looked confused.

  “The robbery.”

  “What robbery?”

  “The convenience store. You were just there, right?” Loni asked him.

  “She was. I waited outside. Said she needed milk.”

  “Seems she robbed it while you sat and waited for her.”

  “What! What! No, no, no! That can’t be.” He pushed open the door and started out.

  “Stay where you are, Mr. Morris. You need to stay out of this.”

  “Holy shit!” Mr. Morris sputtered as he folded back into his seat, eyes darting around nervously.

  The afternoon was hot, and Mrs. Piller's heavy coat made Loni wonder what weapons the woman had. Grabbing the sack from the woman, Loni tossed it on the hood and pulled her around, lifting the brown tweed coat to search her. A sawed off shotgun and hunter's knife were attached to a wide belt. Hoping that was all, Loni turned the woman around. “What the hell were you thinking?”

  “I couldn’t think of a better way to get arrested.”

  “Sorry?” Loni sputtered, confused.

  “I’m sick, and I can't afford to pay for my medicine.”

  “Ah, shit.” Loni held onto the woman's arm as she walked her back to the station with Old Man Morris following and waited for the old man to park. Lola buzzed them in.

  “Sit there, Mr. Morris, and give me a minute.” Loni said, pointing to a long bench. Then she introduced Mrs. Piller to Lola. “Here’s your thief, Lola. She needs to be booked.”

  “You’re kidding?”

  “Am I smiling?” Loni dumped the contents of the sack on the counter in front of Lola. Coins spun and rattled around the paper money as Lola watched in amazement.

  “Did you read her rights to her?”

  “In the car.”

  “She confess?”

  “Yep. Said she was sick and needed nursing care. Too young for Medicare.”

  “I’m standing here, young lady.” Mrs. Piller huffed. “I can confess for myself. You ready to fingerprint me?”

  “God,” Lola shook her head. “I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.”

  Loni shrugged. “How about I just take her over to Maria’s Hacienda? Bet Calli can help her.”

  Lola gave Loni a long, hard glare. “You pray we don’t get caught.”

  “Deal.”

  “You going to settle it with the store?”

  “Double deal.”

  “I’m not going to jail?” Mrs. Piller asked.

  “Not today.” Loni answered the woman as she led her out into the warm sun over to her truck.

  Loni stopped at a solid wooden gate and smiled as she keyed in a code. Only three months ago the old adobe wall was full of crumbled places and holes to patch. And no gate. Now they all looked good.

  Even though the abandoned motel at the edge of town had been a blight on the main approach to town, the strong, light-red adobe walls had glowed behind the graffiti. So had the roof with the clay tiles from Old Mexico running in even red waves across the horizon. Thanks to the work that Loni and Lola had talked various townspeople into doing, the graffiti was gone, the roof tiles repaired, and windows and doors replaced.

  Loni drove through the open gate and parked in front of the office. Calli met them and her welcoming grin suddenly brightened Loni's world. She introduced Mrs. Piller. “Can you call the doc and get medicine for her?”

  “Bet your sweet bippy, Loni.” Calli burbled. Small-boned and slim, she exuded warmth as she sat Mrs. Piller down at the kitchen table. Short light-brown hair framing her animated heart-shaped face bounced as she put a cup of coffee and plate of muffins in front of the woman. “Now, Mrs. Piller.” Calli sat next to her, motioning Loni to do the same. “Where you from?”

  “The Oregon Coast.” The woman looked up at Calli and smoothed her long, stringy grey hair back off her leathered face. Her sad watery blue eyes stared at Calli.

  “Really? I'm from the Oregon Coast. That's where Loni and I met.” Calli exuberantly pounded the table. “Lived below Yachats out on one of those headlands sticking into the ocean.”

  For the first time, Mrs. Piller smiled. “I know that place. I remember it's called the Jewel of the Pacific coast. Beautiful little town.”

  “Yes. Did most of my shopping there.”

  Mrs. P
iller looked Calli in the eye. “How could you stand to leave such a beautiful place?”

  “Lost my husband.”

  “I'm so sorry.” Mrs. Piller reached over and patted Calli's hand. “So did I.”

  “It's okay,” Calli cheerfully reported. “We had a bad accident, and he was in pain all the time. Had a head injury so he didn't remember much either. Drugs don't help that.” Calli threw her head back and laughed again. “That's how I met Loni. Remember? Kate invited you for breakfast and I was there too.” Calli threw Loni an affectionate look. “We were renting rooms for the night and took turns staying at home taking care of guests. Well, I wanted to go to Kate's house for breakfast so I gave him an extra dose and was out of the house before he woke up. He couldn't remember it was his turn anyhow.” Calli laughed through her story until the end. She became very quiet for a minute before she continued. “When I lost him, I decided to totally change the way I lived so I moved to the Southwest. Variety's the spice of life, right?”

  With a disbelieving expression, Mrs. Piller responded. “I loved it there. Except for worrying about tsunamis.”

  “Oh my, yes." Calli tossed her head back and laughed uproariously as she pounded on the table. "I remember this time we got a call to evacuate. So I told Will, that’s my husband, to grab the Indian rug. I’d find the cat and meet him at the car.” Calli laughed again. “By the time I was out the door the car was gone. He already forgot what I told him and drove up the hill without me.” She was beating the table again in laughter that was so contagious even Mrs. Piller was grinning.

  “What happened then?” Mrs. Piller's smile brought some life to her pale face.

  “Oh, nothing. The cat and I sat and waited, and the tsunami came in two inches high. By the time he came back home he forgot why he left.”

  “That’s why you moved here? Getting away from tsunamis?”

  “Well, no.” Calli started laughing again. “Sort of got in trouble with my advertising. My website said, ‘No children, no Hummers, and nobody who voted for Bush.’”

  Loni interrupted. “She's right. I was having coffee with her one morning when a Hummer pulled in. She ran out the door waving her arms hollering, ‘No Hummers. No Hummers. No Hummers.’”

  “Well, a right-wing paper from back East wrote a nasty article about my website and called me a bigot. I got so many threatening calls that I had to disconnect my phone.”

  “What happened to your business?”

  “That was the problem. Without a phone I didn't have any. So I called the paper and got handed off to a fancy lawyer. I told him I was just a little old lady with a sick and dying husband just trying to rent a room occasionally to pay a few doctor bills. Told him I had to remove my site, change my phone number, lost my business. I was thinking to sue.”

  “So what happened then?” Mrs. Piller’s face got more animated.

  “They sent some money.” Calli's smile left her face. “My husband died soon after that so I used the money to move south. Thought seeing the sun might be a fun change. So,” Calli said, “tell me about your family now.

  “All I got left is a daughter. Heard she was living somewhere around Caliente so I came looking. Wanted to see her one last time before I died.”

  “Did you find her?”

  “Not yet. She got married after she left home.” After a short hesitation, Mrs. Piller continued. “My husband beat me and ran her off. I don't know anything about her husband except his last name and that he was from Caliente. Can't afford to look anymore. I ran out of money.” She turned to Loni and asked, “Do you know a Jonathan Brown?”

  “Sorry.” Loni shook her head.

  “Jeez, Loni. This place is small enough you should be able to find her daughter. Did you try to help her?”

  “Nope,” Loni shrugged. “Didn't know anything about it until just now.” Loni spent the next half hour making notes. Promising to do what she could, she drove out watching Calli lead Mrs. Piller off to one of the units.

  Loni dropped by the store to return the money and explain why the woman had robbed the store. The owner agreed to forget it had ever happened.

  Back at the station an hour later, she realized she had forgotten about Mr. Morris. He was still sitting where she left him. She sat down on the hall bench beside him. “I'm sorry I left you so long. Can I get you a soda?”

  “No, Lola there took good care of me. Am I in trouble here?”

  “Not really. I just wanted to talk to you about your renter. You know her long?”

  “No. Met her at the clinic yesterday. She said she had nowhere to live so I took her home with me.” Mr. Morris’s sad face made Loni want to cry. “I'm lonely, you know? I outlived three wives and all my kids.”

  “How old are you, Mr. Morris.”

  “Be ninety-six next month.”

  “Good Lord, Mr. Morris. Letting someone move in you don't even know is not the best way to look for a new wife.”

  “Wasn't looking for a new wife. I'm not ready for that.”

  Loni laughed. “Think you'll be ready by the time you're ninety-six?”

  The old man gave Loni a small grin. “Maybe.”

  Laughing, she helped him out the door and back to his car, but she couldn’t bear to watch him drive away. He was one of those old timers who looked straight ahead when he drove and never stopped for anything.

  * * *

  Sitting at her grandparents table, Loni listened to Mr. Ybarra tell his story between tears of agony at his loss.

  “They slept all day,” Shiichoo told Loni. “I forced water down them.”

  Mrs. Ybarra's smile lit up her whole body. She had a cherub face, soft and quiet. “Yes, and good thing we're in the desert, or I would float away.”

  “How long did you wait at Minnie's Well?”

  “Five days. We ran out of food on the second day and water on the third.” Mrs. Ybarra began to cry again. “Our Miki just couldn't.” Her words broke off with another sob.

  Her husband held her. “When they left the highway, they told us they were picking up another family. Just as soon as we crawled out of the back of the truck the one who said his name was Jesus pulled a gun. They tied us up and robbed us of everything and then got back in the truck and left us.”

  “Can you describe them?”

  “I'll try.” Mr. Ybarra closed his eyes. “It was around midnight. There were two of them. The driver was tall. Maybe six foot two. Skinny, dark complexion, acne scars down his cheeks and neck. He had tattoos on his knuckles, you know, but they were so old I couldn't read them. Clean shaven, short haircut. Big feet. He had on work boots. The second one was also tall. Could have been his brother they looked so much alike. Much younger. Maybe in his late teens. He was nervous, maybe scared like he had never done this before. He was always telling Jesus to hurry. I think his name was Pablo.” He turned to his wife. “That about right?”

  Mrs. Ybarra nodded. “We didn't see much of them. They loaded us in the back of the truck and shoved boxes around us. We traveled all night and all the next day. It was late when we reached the border. I saw the older one hand a guard an envelope.” She slowly sipped her ice tea and wiped tears from her plump cheeks.

  Loni studied Jose and Mary Ybarra. “When you’re up to it,” Loni quietly said, “I’d like to hear your story from the beginning.”

  “You take care of these two,” Bahb told her as they left the house. “We are judged by how we treat those in need. Just remember everybody counts. Everybody.”

  Loni left the couple with Calli at Maria's Hacienda and drove for home.

  A ringing penetrated Loni's fog, and she fumbled for her phone. “Yes?”

  “Loni?”

  “I think so. Let me check.”

  “Sorry?”

  Shit, it wasn't Lola. “Hey. I thought you were someone else.”

  “This is Chelsa.”

  “Of course. What's up?”

  “I have another rape victim here. Would you help me? I called Junior and
he said he was too busy.”

  “I'll be there as soon as I can.”

  A Mexican girl with a torn, bright-red tank top under her white shirt was in tears when Chelsa let Loni in. Loni thought that she was probably really cute when she wasn’t in such misery. Blood caked the insides of her legs. Loni took Chelsea aside and whispered, “What's her name?”

  “Carmen Gomez.”

  Sitting beside the girl, Loni started the conversation in Spanish hoping to ease her pain. “Carmen, mi nombre es Loni. Te acuerdas de nada?”

  The girl shook her head and continued to cry.

  Loni gently brushed the hair away from Carmen's eyes and looked up at Chelsa. “Same as the others. She doesn't remember anything. Did she tell you anything?”

  Chelsa shook her head. “I can't even talk her into a rape kit.”

  Loni turned back to Carmen. “You sure?”

  “No! No! No!” Carmen shook her head violently.

  “You could get a disease. Or get pregnant and need the pill.”

  Carmen sobbed. “They'll find me there.”

  “No. I'll be with you.”

  “I'll be here, too,” Chelsa reassured her.

  The only sound was Carmen's sobbing.

  “Can I take you someplace?” Loni asked her.

  “My aunt,” Carmen whispered.

  Loni drove Carmen to a small wooden house behind the Catholic Church. Opening the truck door, the woman reached for Carmen and folded her arms about the sobbing girl. Loni followed them through the dark into the warmth of the house, waiting to talk to the aunt.

  “I need her clothes,” Loni said cautiously.

  The aunt nodded, and the two of them walked out of the room. The aunt returned and handed Loni a paper bag.

  The day’s sadness followed her on her drive back to the hangar as thoughts chased each other in her mind. If they didn’t catch the coyotes, the Ybarras couldn’t stay in the states. Luckily the bigoted anti-immigrant Arizona legislators hadn’t changed the IU Visa law that allowed her to provide a visa to anyone who helped catch a coyote. If she caught them. Mixed in with these worries was the fury that Junior ignored all the rapes.

  Parking beside Daniel's pickup, she climbed down and looked for him as Coco wandered out back. He came crawling out from under the other side of his pickup.