by Sue Hardesty
He sneered at Loni as he snatched the ticket from her hand. "My dad is best friends with Chief."
"How nice for your dad." Loni's sarcasm bounced over the driver's head as she herded the four teenage boys out of the bed of the pickup and shoved them into the back of her SUV.
"Honest to god," the smallest one giggled. "None of us had more than one beer."
"Really?" Loni had to laugh. "I didn't know beer cans came in gallon sizes."
Most of them were townies and she finally got them all delivered home.
* * *
Early morning found Loni on Harquah Sandhills Road. She had followed another drunk home to make sure he made it. He had already slept off most of his alcohol stupor on the side of the road when she moved him on. A big high school football hero, he had to get married before he even graduated. Loni considered throwing his ass in jail for the hell of it but remembered he had six kids. He worked at the seed mill now, and he probably couldn't afford to miss work. He couldn't afford to get drunk, either, and he certainly couldn't afford six kids.
Her mind see sawed back and forth before she let it go and followed him home. She watched him flip a bird as he disappeared through his front door. Damn, Loni thought. Too bad it's a legal gesture. She turned around in his driveway and spun back out onto the highway, half grinning to herself. Next time, she decided. Next time she would throw his sorry ass in jail.
Loni had picked up just three speeders. Exhausted from too little sleep, she was numbed by the still, dead heat. Right before sunrise, she headed back out of Harquah Sandhills, watching the old sand planks left from an ancient road snake in and out beside her as they slowly disappeared into the sand beside the empty highway. The sand gradually turned from silver to bleached white as the sun glared into her eyes. She searched for her sunglasses, pushing against Coco as she fumbled with the lock on the cubbyhole. Moving her backup gun aside, she grabbed her sunglasses as she refocused on the road. Coco nuzzled her, pushing Loni against the SUV door.
"Move, damn it!" Loni pushed back. "I'm mad at you anyway." Coco didn't budge. "Oh shit, oh dear." Loni pushed on the dog, again. She was immovable. "How much do you weigh!" she said. "Oh bite me. I'm talking to the dog again."
Loni pulled her long black braid over the front of her shoulder. Coco immediately started chewing on it. Tearing up, she remembered how Coco did the same with Maria's braid. Loni fought the memories, but the scene shot across her mind anyway, holding her partner as her blood ran out of her and begging her to hang on while the backup cop cried, "Sorry. So sorry. Sorry. I thought she was the perp. Sorry." LA! She hated LA. People lost their humanity in crowds. How did Bahb put it? "They so close together they sour each other."
Except Maria. No! Think about something else. "Damn it, Coco, move!" The dog ignored her while she mouthed Loni's braid. The sun bounced off the hood of the white SUV into her eyes as the asphalt on the road in front of her shimmered with the rising sun, reflecting a water mirage that disappeared just as she reached it. In her mind, she saw Maria in front of her. "Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!" Loni finally screamed. Like a mirage, Maria always disappeared before she reached her.
It was time to end her shift. Loni drove into town around the collection of tired, unpainted buildings strung along a dry river bed. The town lay straight with the world, but it rested catawampus to the riverbed, confusing some people because they didn't know what direction they were heading. Loni wondered if it was true that it was the iron in nose hairs that gave one a sense of direction. She remembered her dad had been so sensitive to his sense of direction that he actually threw up when he lost it. She wondered if he had a lot of iron in his nose hair.
Loni circled the courthouse square, wondering about the Southern aristocrat who founded the town, or so the story went. The lopsided courthouse that squatted splat in the middle of a town block stood like a square peg pounded into a round hole. Nothing fit.
Over the last century, a city and state police department, a small courtroom and judge's chamber, a jail on the second story, and a half basement for storage had been added to the original building. Double doors led out both ends of the building. Anyone who wanted the police department went in the north entrance, and those who wanted the courtroom and judge went in the south entrance.
A huge dirt lot circling the courthouse drifted down to the sidewalk. Some called it a lawn, but the only green Loni ever remembered seeing was bull-head stickers, one of the few ground crawling plants that could survive the endless Arizona drought. Willow trees leaned against the courthouse walls as if they needed the help to stand. Clinging to the trees, pale green leaves curled from the lack of water.
Loni felt a slight cooling as she drove under the huge branches reaching across the street from the eucalyptus trees lining the courthouse sidewalk. Two feet in diameter, the limbs were so low that tall loads had to detour the town along the railroad. She zigzagged around a dig blocking the sidewalk and part of the street, an attempt to patch the vintage World War II sewer system. Driving over the pieces of fragile Orangeburg sewer pipe made of creosote soaked heavy felt paper, she chuckled at the crunches, amazed the pipes had not disintegrated or been pancaked the day after they were buried. Maybe they had. Wondering why they called it Orangeburg, she thought about what was feeding the trees.
* * *
Loni was late turning into the police parking compound, more than ready to call it a night and sign out. Signaling Coco to follow, she crossed the street and walked up the long concrete walk to the double wide north doors. Ringing the bell, she watched a dark redheaded woman pop up behind the booking counter as Loni heard the click of the door release. It was Lola something or other, the dispatcher who followed Bobby's shift. Loni vaguely remembered her from the day she was hired, but hadn't really been around her since then.
Chief Redneck was standing in the door of his office. "Well, girly!" His bloodshot eyes popped out at her as a smirk spread over his red face. "Tully said you should fill out the report seeing as how you already investigated." He walked up to her and stuck a blank form in her face. "Go find a desk in the bullpen." Grimacing in pain, Chief rubbed his fat chest and burped. "You got yourself a case."
Sighing, Loni took the blank report and watched Chief walk away in his rolling gait. He moved like a huge old dray horse tired of living. His clothes never fit, and every time he stood, he had to resnap his Western shirt and tuck it back in his pants. His bolo tie, a fancy big turquoise piece, didn't fit with the black and white-striped suspenders holding up his Levis. On his feet were old brown leather slippers. Loni figured he couldn't reach down to put boots on anymore.
From the door to his office, he yelled back at her, "I'm fed up with getting calls about somebody's beloved mother or great-aunt Lily's tombstone getting oblibertated," falling over the word. "Fix it." His bald head disappeared. Then it reappeared. "And get that damn dog out of here." The head disappeared again. Loni waited a minute to see if it would pop out again. He was bully big and bully mean. She had read somewhere most people who started bullying when they were young ended up either behind bars or a badge. It was hard for Loni to tell the difference anymore.
Beckoning Coco to follow her, Loni reached out her hand to the woman behind the booking counter who had been watching Loni with a sympathetic expression.
"Hi, Lola," Loni was mesmerized by her clear emerald green eyes. Loni heard she was Chief's eye candy, but no one had warned her about the eyes. Stumbling over her words, Loni finally blurted, "We met a few weeks back when I started. I'm Loni Wagner, graveyard patrol."
Lola returned the hand shake with a firm grip, finally pulling out of Loni's hold. "I remember. If I can do anything to help you, let me know."
"You can. Could you let me know when something comes back on the plane evidence Tully turned in?"
"He didn't turn anything to me."
"Oh, shit, I really need to find out who shot at me."
"You think he might try it again?"
"No reason
why not. Depends on if he got what he wanted." Loni turned and pushed through the swinging half gate into the bullpen, uncomfortable that she had an audience. Sighing again, she dropped into the nearest empty chair that faced away from the watchers. Coco slithered under the desk and was soon lightly snoring at Loni's feet, hidden by the solid wood front of the desk.
Loni heard snickers behind her, especially from James. Too bad she had to put up with her cousin at work, but the town law shared space with the state police and they were stuck here together. They even shared the dispatcher and jail. It seemed to be working for everybody but Loni, especially right now.
Chui Castro, James's partner in narcotic investigations, was making kissy kiss sounds at her back between James's snickers and she couldn't concentrate. God! Loni cringed. Don't boys ever grow up? She finally turned around to stare Chui down. A small, swarthy Mexican, he had shiny black hair and a banty rooster attitude. Casually dressed in a brown tee and Levis, he pulled a gun from the hollow of his back and pointed it toward Loni as he took his time sliding the clip out and counting the bullets before shoving it back.
Still smirking, he tugged a switchblade knife out of a boot and began to play with it, switching it open and closed, over and over as he stared back. Tired of his game, Loni looked above his head to a poster on his wall. A cold shiver passed through her. Across the bull's eye in the center of the poster were the words, "IF YOU CAN READ THIS, YOU ARE NOW IN RANGE." Loni believed it. His shiny wet black eyes were even colder than Loni remembered in high school, reminding her of a Gila monster. She wanted to forget her serious history with Chui as she watched him puff up and flip her the bird. Disgusted, Loni turned away, searching for something else to focus on, determined to ignore the snake behind her. She should know by now to always sit with her back against a wall.
The bull pen was surrounded by cheap forest green dividers in a failed attempt to create privacy. Not a nice forest green either, Loni decided. More like the color of a dying plant. She had read somewhere that the color green was supposed to be calming, but there was nothing worse than the ugly institutional vomit green paint and the fluorescent lights hanging by chains from the ceiling. The air was stifling. The faded ragged ribbon tied to the cooler vent in the ceiling barely fluttered. The warm moisture in the air turned everything into a wet, gloppy mess.
Avoiding the report on her desk, Loni stared at the wanted posters, yellowed with age. No longer able to put off filling out the form, she sighed and kept peeling the paper off her sweaty arm that she used to anchor the form. Whenever she tried to write, the ballpoint pen skipped and smeared on the damp paper. She figured Chief considered the case a slam dunk and was only giving her a hard time, but she couldn't leave until Tully got back after his lunch hour. Loni heard he took long lunches. Was it something about a widow up Dusty Road? Or was that Chief? Oh well, she decided, not her problem.
Waiting, Loni filled in what she could. It was unreadable, but then what did she care? Using the form as a fan, she rolled her chair through the swinging half door and stopped behind Lola's counter. "Can you tell me why Chief hates sniffers so much?"
"He didn't used to, but the last police dog we had around here ate the stock on his shotgun, the driver's seat in his car, and the wires to his siren. The kiss of death for that dog though was when he ate Chief's Raybans."
Loni laughed in surprise.
"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god." Lola leaned forward, her bracelets and keys on her arms jingling like a Greek chorus. "I would DIE for your dimples."
"Tell you what. I'll trade them for your incredible eyes."
"Why would you ever want to trade away your dimples?"
"Because they have been the bane of my existence."
"Really?" Lola stared at Loni like she was crazy. "I have got to know why anyone would hate dimples." Lola rested her chin in her hand, waiting.
Loni thought, What the hell. She looked around, keeping her voice low. "Have you noticed the way James treats me?"
Lola nodded in sympathy.
"Did you know James and I are cousins?"
Lola shrugged. "So I heard."
"Growing up around here, most of my dad's family disowned me, except for Uncle Herm, his wife, Mae, and Daniel, my cousin." Loni lowered her voice another notch. "James and Uncle Kirk's family said no way could I be related to them. Since none of them had dimples, it must have been the milkman. Of course," Loni shook her head at the memory and leaned back in her chair, "since I didn't know any milkmen, I had no idea what that meant." She gave Lola a wry grin. "What they really meant was they didn't want to be related to a half breed Apache."
Lola gave her an understanding look. "See these green eyes. See this red in my hair?" She lifted it and let it sift through her fingers, the light bouncing off the red-highlights. "I may be Mexican, but it wasn't a Mexican gave me these." She lifted her eyebrow, reading Loni's expression. "Wasn't henna either."
Loni had to laugh. "Guess we're just a couple of bitch curs, huh?"
"Nah," Lola answered her. "We're a couple of pinto kids."
"That's a new one," Loni said, perplexed. "What does it mean?"
"That's what we Mex call a mix. Light and dark brown, like pinto beans."
The sound of the door buzzer jarred both of them, and Loni rolled back to her desk as Tully wandered in.
"Hey," Loni said. "Chief told me to write up the report on your plane crash case. I need the evidence from the plane and your notes."
"What notes?"
"The plane yesterday morning." Loni pointed her pencil at Tully, holding up her report. "Did you bring the plane records?"
He crossed his arms over his fat stomach and silently stared at her.
"You know, the evidence?"
Tully shrugged. "Wasn’t useful to me so I left it."
"You didn't work on the case at all?"
"Here." He put a single sheet of paper on her desk.
"And?"
"A drawing of the plane." He pushed it toward Loni. "Want to see it?"
"Not really. I have photos. Did you search for any more evidence under the plane after it was removed? Measure its fall?"
"Why?"
"Because the report asks for it. The family may need it for insurance. We may need it if a crime is involved." Loni tried to be patient with him.
"What crime?"
"I don't know, Tully. That's why I need your report."
"I didn't do it."
"Why not?" Loni decided talking to Coco was more productive.
"I don't do numbers is why not."
"What do you mean?"
Tully slid his drawing into a drawer. "Everybody knows five plus five is ten. Always was and always will be. Nothing new to learn there so don't need to mess with it."
"Does that go for car accidents, too?"
"Why not? Easy to see who's at fault. Waste of time."
"Well, damn!" Loni leaned back. "You're fun to work with.
"What?"
"Nothing." Loni turned back to the desk.
"My drawings are good enough for the boss." He snorted behind her back. "Bitch!"
Funny, Loni thought, it sounded different when I called myself that. Maybe I could just shoot him. Nah, tomorrow might be better.
She ordered Coco out from under the desk as she collected her paperwork. Opening her cell phone, she nodded goodbye to Lola, and, by the time she and Coco walked out the front door, her cousin answered. "Daniel. It's me. What's happening to the plane?"
"I'm working on it now."
"Somebody really interested in that plane broke into the hangar and shot at me last night. Can you keep an eye out for anything unusual?"
"Oh shit! Are you okay?" Daniel exploded.
"Yes. I think it was just a warning shot."
"Well, that's okay then." His sarcasm warmed her. "Why don't you hang up now so I can get back to it?"
Loni laughed. "What a good little cousin you are." She flipped her phone shut and reached for the door hand
le of her truck. "Aww, shit!" she sputtered as her hand burned on the hot metal. Shaking it, she pulled the bloody kerchief from her back pocket and wrapped it around her hand before she tried to open the door a second time. Following Coco in, she started the engine and rolled down the windows. It must have been at least 160 degrees inside. She reached for a ziplock bag with a leaf of aloe vera and squeezed a large dab on the red skin. one-handed, she drove to the airport, cussing and glad Shiichoo couldn't hear her.
* * *
Back in the hangar, she found her cousin already deep into the plane engine. "Any luck?" she asked, holding the lid to the water jug for Coco to get a drink. "Ah, hell," she decided and poured water on Coco's head and back before she turned the jug on herself. She was dripping water onto the floor when Daniel got her attention.
