The Truck Comes on Thursday

by Sue Hardesty

  It's been a really crazy day. Or should I say confusing. First I met the interesting woman I told you about for coffee today. Things about her ring my worry bells, but I think I'd like to get to know her better. She's the one who told me about the serial rapist.

  But it's the meth/ricin case that worries me. Six dead so far. I don't see any headway. Carl had James cover the same ground with Rene's plane crash that I already covered. He has me calling people who have already been called. He has James following Rene's flight plans to find where he might have made deposits when he ought to be looking in Rene's notebook. I think that one bothers me the most.

  Then there are the lights I saw on an airstrip that no one knows anything about. And the missing trailer house that might be a meth lab which is where I think we should be focused. Tully doesn't do much of anything.

  And Chui is something else. Last Coyote I caught had Chui's phone number on him. What's up with that? I would like to believe he's working undercover, but I don't. See? My ramblings are as confused as I am. Still, thank you for being my new sounding board. One of the many things I miss about Maria.

  Take care of you and yours.

  Loni

  Loni changed into a tank top and shorts and went to bed. When she heard banging on the loft door, she woke up in a sweat and pulled herself out of bed. "It's me," she heard Daniel yell. Coco had gone into a frantic barking dance, and she had trouble opening the door.

  "I need something to drink," Daniel announced, pushing by her to open the refrigerator. "It's a damned oven down there." Loni could hear him rummaging through the bottles on the shelves. "No beer? How can you not have any beer?"

  "You forgot, Daniel. I don't drink."

  "When did that start?"

  "I never drank."

  "You're kidding. What about the plane rides?"

  "I wouldn't go up, remember?" Loni shuddered.

  "Oh, yeah. You were a chicken shit about planes. So what's that got to do with not drinking a beer at the end of a hot day?"

  "I got sun tea."

  "How about I bring some beer and store it here? You gonna drink it?"

  "Fuck you, Daniel." She climbed back in bed.

  He grabbed one of the frozen cans of tea and left her to go back to sleep.

  CHAPTER 11

  July 11, 5:30 a.m.

  DAWN BROUGHT BACK the relentless sun. Loni's shift was quiet until Bobby's voice echoed around the inside of her SUV, banging on her ears. Sometimes she hated his voice. She was never prepared for the terror out there.

  "One car rollover on Arling Road, where the hills are."

  "You mean Gillium Dam area?"

  "Yep. On the north side right at the last curve. Or is it the first? Where are you, anyway?"

  "I'm on the Old Miner Road at the Cosmos rest stop. I'll be on the scene in fifteen. Any fatalities?"

  "Don't think so. One person. Caller said he didn't appear hurt bad. Looked like a pin cushion, though." Pin cushion?

  Scanning for landmarks as she sped along the road, Loni remembered her grandma wrote her that a farmer had plowed under the two huge piles of Indian trash left from centuries of camping on the river. She felt ill as she drove by the field. All that history destroyed for cotton farming.

  Slowing down for the crossing on the dam's apron, she saw Gillium Dam looming over her. A dirt dam with a small lake below created by a massive amount of dirt dug out, it no longer backed up any water. The bottom had long ago filled in with silt from the nine major rivers that merged there and dropped over on its way to the Colorado River. The remaining water was diverted to a canal. Loni drove over it as the SUV climbed out of the river bottom.

  Cresting the first hill, Loni saw a red sports car on its side on the edge of a cholla patch. She pulled up and looked around, spotting a man leaning against a palo verde tree. Walking up, she said, "Well shit, Phillip. How many totaled cars does this make? Five?"

  "Nine. You missed a few while you were gone." Bloody scratches and red blotches covered his pale white shirtless body. She watched him pull another needle out of his arm before he continued, "I was trying to pass on a curve, and that asshole in the pickup over there wouldn't let me by. Look at that." He grimaced in pain. "Shot straight out there and rolled seven times."

  Loni focused on a heavily tanned, muscled man with crossed arms glowering back at her as he leaned against a black pickup. "He's young, so he's got an excuse for being stupid. What's yours?"

  Phillip shook his head at Loni in disgust. "Haven't you got any tweezers? Help me out here."

  Loni watched him pull out another needle with a beat up pair of pliers. "Hell, Phillip." Loni shook out tweezers from a flat First Aid can in her pocket and handed them to him. "I'm beginning to think you've got a death wish."

  "Nah. It's just testosterone overload. I wouldn't back off, and neither would he."

  Loni found a flat rock to knock cholla balls from his Levis before they wiggled into his legs. "Lucky you're wearing boots." She scraped off the balls. "This is the second time this week I've spent my time pulling out needles. Had a cow in a patch. Thought about shooting her."

  Phillip snorted. "Leave that gun in your holster and get those balls off me."

  "Just a thought." Loni laughed at him. "How do you feel? Want me to call the ambulance?"

  He shook his head. "My ribs are really sore, but they're probably not broken. And I don't have any insurance." The diagonal bruise from the seatbelt strap across his chest was already deepening in color. "Look at that."

  "Yep. Damned thing saved your sorry ass."

  "Well, fuck you too."

  Grinning, Loni used his pliers to pull a group of needles out of his Levis. "I can give you a ride home, but, thanks to you, I'll be here awhile."

  Phillip looked around. Nodding toward the pickup driver, his face twisted into an ornery expression. "Think I'll have him take me home. Conversation should be entertaining."

  "I need to talk to him."

  "Wasn't his fault."

  "He could have gotten you killed."

  "Coulda. Woulda." Phillip shrugged and worked his way up onto his feet. He carefully walked over to the pickup driver and stuck out his hand. "No hard feelings?"

  Relief obvious on the driver's young face, he shook Phillip's hand. "No hard feelings."

  "How about a ride home, then?"

  "Why not."

  Loni turned away from Phillip as he waved goodbye and moved along the gawkers. As she waited for the tow truck, she answered questions. "Yes, he walked away fine." "Hell if I know how he did it." "He caught a ride home." "Yes, he's fine." In between, she took pictures and measured. She was ready to leave by the time the tow truck rolled up.

  As Loni wound her way through river bottom farms, she left the rocky hills behind. Along the edge of the river bottom, she looked over at the wide border drainage system for wicking the alkali from the soil. She drove by a little shed the size of a dog house that housed one of the half dozen water pumps that ran nonstop to drop the water table in the valley bottom, keeping thousands of acres of farmland from getting too saturated to farm.

  She thought about the times she rode Roanie through the white salt patches along the river, pretending it was snow. She was nineteen before she saw real snow on a ski trip up to San Francisco Peak. She chuckled at the memory. It took her three hours to finally admit she couldn't keep skis on in cowboy boots.

  * * *

  Sighing with relief, Loni signed out, grateful there was no task force meeting on Sunday. She had a few hours before Todd's funeral. She hadn't been in the new Mormon temple before and hoped she wouldn't be back again for a very long time. Funerals were not one of her favorite things.

  * * *

  Pushing open the white double doors, Loni walked in. Large blocks of light reflected off the white walls from the tall windows and skylights. She stood in the back of the room, scanning the crowd. Rebecca had her arm around Jenny, who was crying. The young man Loni had seen with Jenny was on her
other side, holding her hand. Loni sat in the last row, hoping to catch some conversation, but got caught up in beautiful and painful service. Loni wiped away a few tears, hurting for Todd's family.

  As Loni walked out the door, Jenny grabbed her sleeve. "This is my brother, Steve." Loni shook his hand. She was more convinced than ever that he was a meth head. Did Jenny know? "Coffee?"

  "Sure," Loni answered.

  "Starbucks?"

  "Fine."

  As Loni turned to speak to Rebecca, she was startled by the pure hatred reflected back at her. What was that all about?

  Finding her truck in the large parking lot, Loni climbed in and sat with the engine running to keep the refrigeration working as she waited to exit. Rebecca walked by and sneered. "Move that filthy thing."

  Loni inspected her truck. It was a 1994 Silverado with a raised chassis and oversized tires. At one time it had been green. At least that's what Maria told her. Mostly it was covered with gray patches from fender benders and dirt from the desert. Maria had bought it from a distant cousin who liked to challenge rocky hills and gullies. In spite of its rough treatment, it didn’t have that much mileage. Maria was afraid to drive it very far. Loni drove to Starbucks thinking her truck looked a tad silly stuck up in the air so high. But she really didn't care. It had been Maria's.

  A cup of black coffee waited for Loni when she walked up to the tall black round table and tall matching stools. Loni hated bar stools, especially wobbly ones. She thanked Jenny for the coffee before she grabbed both sides of the quivering round table and carefully climbed up on a bar stool.

  Jenny smiled at Loni's cautious approach. "Good thing these cups have lids. Little insecure, are we?"

  "Oh, no, I always sit like this."

  Jenny laughed. "You can let go of the table. You're not going to fall off."

  "Just shows how little you know me."

  Jenny leaned forward. "Well, we could remedy that."

  Loni let go of the table fast. "So is this like a date?"

  "Do you want it to be?"

  Unsure of where Jenny was heading, Loni said, "I think Rebecca might object."

  "She's just a friend."

  "Sure she wouldn't like to be more?"

  "Probably." Jenny shrugged. "She's not my type."

  "Can you tell me a little about her?"

  "Like what?"

  "I saw her take off flying the other day. Does she know a lot about planes?"

  "I guess. She said her dad used to own a small airport and flew charters until he gambled it away. She had helped him overhaul planes as soon as she could walk. Said flying was the only time she felt free and happy."

  Loni sipped her coffee as she thought about that. "Okay. So is this a meeting? You got a subject?"

  The playful gleam faded from Jenny's cat eyes as her smile disappeared. "I had a visitor last night. The party that killed Todd? One of my students was raped there."

  "Ah, shit. It just keeps coming."

  Head down, Jenny stared into her coffee cup as she pulled on the gold chain around her neck. "I know what she's going through."

  Is she confessing? Loni wondered. "I'm sorry?"

  Jenny looked up at Loni and, pushing her long amber hair out of her face, repeated, "I said I know exactly what she's going through."

  "I'm sorry." Loni reached over and took Jenny's hand. "How is she doing?"

  "Not good. It's devastating, especially if you're a virgin."

  Pulling back her hand, Loni waited a beat. "Have you noticed that the rape victims are all young Chicanas?"

  "Yes." Jenny paused a minute. "But why pick on Chicanas?"

  "Guess that's something we need to find out."

  "Word is you were some hotshot detective in LA. What are you doing back here?"

  "How come everybody is asking me that? Is it so bad around here?"

  "Let me think. We have one laundromat with three washer/dryers, one general store with no taste, one serve-yourself gas station, one drug store, one clothing store with nothing but snap shirts, Levis, and boots...."

  "Okay," Loni interrupted, laughing. "I get it. But I could ask you the same thing."

  "I wanted to be with my dad and brother. And you?"

  "I don't have a dad or brother."

  Jenny swatted at Loni. "Let me ask that question in a different way. Why did you leave in the first place?"

  "I was tired of being called a breed."

  Jenny's mouth dropped. "You're kidding?"

  "Other kids wouldn't even be seen in public with me. I didn't want to be alone anymore."

  A flash of pain crossed Jenny's face. "God! I'm sorry. I've taught this age level for years, but I forget how cruel they can be." She leaned on her hand and stared at Loni. "So how about now? Anybody interesting around here?"

  Loni ignored the question. "Can you tell me what the girl remembers?"

  Jenny took a drink of her coffee before she answered. "She thinks it was Billy Joe who gave her the drug. She remembers a bedroom, the assistant coach, Billy Joe, and one of his friends, but it's all mixed up in her head. So much is blank. She woke up on her porch at home in pain, with dried blood on her legs and no panties." Jenny paused, swallowing hard. "She's a good Catholic girl who was a virgin and proud of it. Her gift to her husband. This broke her heart."

  "Think she would talk to me?"

  "I don't know. She went to the party with friends because she liked this boy, but he wasn't there. She was heading home when Billy Joe offered to give her a ride home in his fancy sports car. He gave her a Coke before they left."

  Loni speculated, "Wonder if he gave her a date rape drug."

  "She doesn't know what to do. It's too late for a rape kit. She couldn't get the morning-after pill. The pharmacist's really nasty. A Right-to-Lifer."

  "It's against the law to deny anyone the morning-after pill."

  "Tell that to him," Jenny said heatedly.

  "I will. He has a right to believe in whatever. He just can't act on it."

  "You're a Right-to-Lifer?" Jenny’s voice rose in amazement.

  "What I believe doesn't matter. It's the law."

  "All laws are good?"

  "Usually. Crime rate in the nineties dropped big time among the young. One theory was that abortion was so available in the two decades before that the criminals were never born."

  Jenny sat back and coolly stared at Loni. "That's such a cold way to view the world."

  "Probably, but in the real world, I don't think the universe really gives a shit about any of us."

  "Then who does care?"

  Loni sat quietly a minute and rubbed her eyes. "My first year in the police academy, I had a real chip on my shoulder. My self defense instructor finally got tired of me and said, 'You know what, kid? Don't expect your troubles to end with a new day. Don't expect a picture perfect life. And don't ever, ever expect a just world. All that matters in the end,' he said, 'is helping each other avoid as much pain as possible.'"

  Jenny sighed and climbed down from her stool. "My brain hurts."

  "I'm sorry I don't have any answers," Loni replied, climbing off after her. "I'll let you know if I find anything." She watched Jenny walk out of the espresso shop, wondering what she really thought. Loni also wondered if she was ready for anything more or just wanted to flirt a little.

  * * *

  Shiichoo had already started the stew. The minute Loni stepped into the kitchen, her grandma handed her the open recipe book, and Loni read her grandmother's beautiful cursive script. "Boil corn," she read. "Put cornhusks in hot water, mix cornmeal in hot water." She read on silently for a few minutes. Finally she put the book down on the counter. "Wouldn't it be easier to make cornbread?"

  "Just do it. Good practice for making tamales."

  "Oh, in that case..."

  Shiichoo smirked. "Every time I make them, the next day they're all gone. You're not feeding them to Flossie, are you?"

  Ignoring her grandmother's jab, Loni plopped corn husks into t
he skillet and softened them.

  She was taking the husks out of the pan when Bahb walked in with pipe wrenches, screwdrivers, and a crowbar. She saw him out of the corner of her eyes and jumped.

  "I swear, Bahb. You scare me to death sometimes, you are so quiet. I can't even feel your essence."