Lies Come Easy

by Steven F Havill

  “She holding up all right?”

  The question surprised Estelle, since Bob Torrez didn’t often spend much time or energy thinking about how others were doing, or feeling, or coping.

  “I think so. She broke away for a little bit and went to spend some time with friends. Right now, we have Stout and Tully from the Forest Service, and Neil Gentry, from the regional office. Remember him?”

  “Yep.”

  “He’s upper level brass now, in personnel.”

  “Whoo-hoo.”

  “And Maria just came on the floor. I’ll check in with you later. In the meantime, hit the old memory files and figure out what a Coyot Hotel is.”

  “Yep.”

  She disconnected and beckoned Maria Apodaca, who looked as if she’d been dragged across the city under a bus. Disheveled hair, bloodshot eyes, rumpled clothes…if she’d been looking for rest and peace of mind with her friends, she hadn’t found it.

  “He’s resting,” Estelle greeted her. Her hand slipped into her jacket pocket and she turned on the micro-recorder. “They gave him a big dose for the pain. How about you? How are you holding up?”

  “Every time I close my eyes,” Maria said miserably, “all I see is the blood.”

  “We think he’ll be okay, Maria.”

  “But his arm?”

  “He’ll learn to live with that challenge.”

  “But I mean…” The young woman’s shoulders shook. “What will they do to him…after…?” She rubbed hard at her left eye. “I saw the cop in the ward.”

  “Yes. That’s for his own safety.”

  “Why? Who’s going to hurt him any more?”

  “Nobody. He needs company now, Maria, that’s all. Depression is a natural consequence of a traumatic injury like this.” She reached out and rested a hand on Maria’s quivering left shoulder. “It’s good that you came. He needs you to be here. He shouldn’t be alone.” Estelle saw that Craig Stout was watching them. “The officers from the Forest Service want to talk with you, Maria. Can you do that?”

  “Yes.”

  “Before you do, let me ask you what I know is on their minds too, all right?”

  “Yes.”

  She walked Maria down the hallway a bit. “After the incident on the hill—after you struck Fitzwater with the club, and after Al shot him, you told me that you remained up on the hill, sitting with your back against the tank. You must have been worried sick about what Al would do.”

  “Yes.”

  “He pursued Connie down the hill, to her house. Inside her house. You didn’t hear a gunshot?”

  “No, but I was crying so hard, maybe I wasn’t able to hear a thing. I couldn’t help myself. Do you think that Al killed her?”

  “Do you?”

  “Sheriff, he couldn’t. You know, he liked her. I know that he did.”

  “But she was going to call authorities. She witnessed the killing.”

  Maria’s eyes darted this way and that as if trying to sweep the flood of tears away. “I just don’t think he would do that. That’s all. I heard that it was suicide, anyway.”

  “Maybe so. But there you sat, with your back against the tank, and just a few feet away was Myron’s body. And the deer carcass. How long was it before Al returned?”

  “I don’t know. A while.”

  “A long while, or a short one?”

  “Just…just a while.”

  “And when he returned, what did he say?”

  “‘We’re okay.’ That’s what he said. ‘We’re okay.’”

  “What do you think he meant by that? What did you take him to mean?”

  “That somehow he’d convinced Connie to keep quiet about the whole affair?”

  Oh, sure, Estelle thought. He convinced her, all right.

  “No, really.” Maria saw the skepticism on Estelle’s face. “Myron and Connie—they weren’t getting along very well anymore. So at the time, I believed Al. I believed him when he said everything was okay.”

  “And later, when you found out that Connie was dead?”

  “I…I…I mean, what could I do? Everyone was talkin’ about it being a suicide, and so I thought…I thought, just leave it alone. That’s what it was. Just leave it alone.”

  “But that evening—at the time—you believed Al when he said ‘We’re okay’?”

  “Yes. Then he said that Darrell was comin’ down to help him. That I should go back to the house and just stay there. Just stay there. If Darrell had to bring the little boy, then I was supposed to look after him, ’cause Penny was working nights.”

  “So Al and Darrell were going to dispose of the body.”

  “I guess. I mean, they couldn’t just leave him lying there.”

  “A busy afternoon for them.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Stow Myron Fitzwater somewhere, and then the deer carcass to Lupe’s…all kinds of loose ends to clean up, don’t you think?” She watched Maria’s face and not for the first time saw a glimmer of something other than grief-stricken hysteria. “So that’s what you did? Went to the house and stayed there?”

  Maria nodded but couldn’t meet Estelle’s gaze.

  “It took the rest of the afternoon and most of the evening, didn’t it? Disposing of Myron’s truck, his body, the deer? Did you see Darrell and Al drive off at some point?”

  Maria’s nod was almost imperceptible.

  “In Myron’s truck? The Forest Service truck? With it gone, anyone might think that if not maybe suicide, maybe Myron killed Connie. One of their many quarrels.”

  “I don’t know. But, yes, Al took the white truck…Myron’s government truck. He took that one. Darrell drove his own. I think…I think that Darrell had Myron’s body in the back. I know that they got a tarp out of the greenhouse.”

  “But you’re not sure.”

  “No.” She put a hand on each side of her head as if it might be coming apart. “I didn’t look. I didn’t want to know. All I know is…” and she stopped abruptly.

  “Yes?”

  “All I know is that Darrell and Al came back and it was close to midnight. Al looked angry, and Darrell looked as if he’d been crying, or upset, or something.”

  “And then?”

  “And then Darrell took little Derry and drove home. I was worried about the snow, but Darrell didn’t seem to care.”

  “Why did Al tell us that he went pig hunting the next day…on Saturday?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “He didn’t go, did he?”

  “No.”

  “What did he do?”

  “He worked some in the greenhouse, and then he went down to Danny’s for most of the afternoon.”

  “And you? What did you do?”

  “I spent time with Mama and Papa, and that was hard. Mama’s got sort of a sixth sense when she thinks something’s wrong. I just told her that Darrell was having an awful time with Penny. And he was, you know. I mean, he got stopped by the cops on the way home, and they said he’d kicked Derry out of the truck because he was such a big fuss.” The tears turned into gushers. “If he did that, what they said he did, he would have only done it for a couple of minutes. I mean, he would never hurt Derry.”

  “Al thought enough about his brother to provide five hundred dollars bail, right?”

  “Well, you know. Al was his brother. And then Saturday night, they said he killed himself. Penny called Al, and he went up to their house right away.”

  Grief strickened. But one less worry, Estelle thought. She looked up and saw Craig Stout approaching. “We need you to talk with the Forest Service folks now, Maria.”

  “Oh, my God.” She wiped at her flooded eyes and snuffled. Estelle handed her a bunch of tissues. Behind Stout, she saw Dr. Oromatsu beckon her with a single index finger.

&n
bsp; “Use the lounge,” Estelle said. “I need to talk with the physician.”

  Dr. Oromatsu waited and then fell in step, opening the door for her. “He’s stirring now. You may have a few minutes. I can’t guarantee how lucid he’ll be.”

  “Thank you, Doctor.”

  Al Fisher’s single unbandaged eye was open, but wandering. After a moment, he was able to fix on Estelle’s face. She slid the pad under his hand, and touched his fingers with the pencil. After a moment, he took it.

  They gotta give me something.

  “They are, Al. They will. Listen to me, Al. Myron Fitzwater’s supervisors are here. From the Forest Service. They want to talk with you.”

  NO. NO. NO. The scrawls came rapidly.

  “Al, if you tell me…just me…where the body is, that’s all they want to know. I’ll keep them away from you.”

  I told you. And the pencil stopped. He let it slide, and then lifted his hand, slowly as if powered by hydraulics somehow. Letting out a little whimper as if any motion cost him dearly, he reached out and lightly touched Estelle’s left cheek. She didn’t draw away, but didn’t take his hand in hers. For a handful of seconds, he held his hand there, the softest possible touch.

  your a sweet lady he wrote after once more lowering his hand to the legal pad. you and big bobby—He stopped and tapped the point of the pencil. you saved my life.

  “It’s fortunate we were there, Al.”

  yeah. BIG save. look at me now. you should have let…With a spasmodic jerk, he flipped the pencil away. She retrieved it. i won’t talk to them.

  “You don’t have to, Al.”

  dam right. tell bobby…He paused to summon his strength. to go hunt them coyots. He flipped the pencil again and groaned as he closed his eye. The jaw muscles on the right side of his face unclenched. Estelle straightened up to find Oromatsu at her elbow.

  “I’ll be finishing my shift here in a few minutes. Is there anything you need from me? Anything you need to ask me?”

  “No, I don’t think so. As soon as Maria is finished talking to the Forest Service folks, we’re going to be taking her back down to Posadas.” She nodded at Al’s inert form. “Be careful of this one.”

  “Oh, yes.”

  “Make sure the cops don’t get careless.”

  “Dr. Baker—he’ll be in most of the evening. I’ve consulted with him and the nurses. They’re all well aware of the situation.”

  “Wonderful. I may be back tomorrow. May I call you?”

  “Any time.” Oromatsu pulled a card from her jacket pocket. “Absolutely any time. And that second number is right here in ICU. This evening, you can reach Dr. Baker or one of his staff.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You know…” Dr. Oromatsu hesitated.

  “Yes?”

  “It might be best for the patient if his—young wife, is it?”

  “Girlfriend.”

  “If she were able to remain at his side. For the company, I mean. Just to talk to him and assure him that he’s not alone.”

  “That’s not going to happen, Doctor. They can’t be left together unattended.”

  “Well, that’s a shame.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  Chapter Forty-three

  “She needs to be in a cell.” Robert Torrez’ tone carried not a trace of sympathy. He regarded Estelle without blinking. “What, you’re just going to let her sit at home with her pet doggy? She bashed Fitzwater’s head in. She gets to walk away from that? From conspiring with Al and Darrell to dump the body? From knowing about Connie Suarez?”

  “No, she’s not walking away from anything, Bobby.” Estelle looked at the uncomfortable straight chair in the sheriff’s office, but elected to stand, trying to sort out the kinks from the trip home from Albuquerque. “She’s been reasonably cooperative in all this. She knows she has a choice. She stays home, essentially under house arrest, or she is arraigned and jailed here.”

  “That works for me.”

  “She’s not going anywhere.”

  “You’re going back to Albuquerque tomorrow?”

  “Probably. Lots of questions yet. If he has the opportunity, Craig Stout wants to talk with Al. I told him to use a pad. Al can’t talk yet. It’s going to be a long time before he can do anything other than grunt.”

  “But he ain’t admitted to shooting the girl yet.”

  “No.”

  “He knows that Maria thinks he did?”

  “I’m sure he does.”

  “Just hangin’ tight.”

  “He has nothing to lose, Bobby. Yes, he admitted that shooting his brother was just an unfortunate accident.” Torrez scoffed. “But Connie’s death is out and out murder. That’s a whole different story. He’s not going to admit to that until he knows he’s cornered.”

  “We can arrange that, too.” Torrez stood up and stretched, then stepped to one side to peer at the large county map on the wall. “I’ve been thinkin’,” he said.

  “Always good.”

  He ignored that and jabbed a finger at the dot that represented Regál. “Darrell and Al put Fitzwater’s body in Darrell’s truck. Just getting the body down off that hill, through all the rocks and shit, had to be tough…and in the dark, or dark comin’ on, anyways. Al is drivin’ the government truck. It’s startin’ to snow hard, fixin’ to be a miserable night.” He turned and looked at Estelle. “Just right for what they want to do.”

  He turned back to the map. “One road out.” He traced the blue line up and over Regál Pass. Then, holding one index finger at the pass, he reached up and touched the spot where Fitzwater’s government truck had been found, miles to the north, on the other side of the county. “What’s the best way?”

  “Most direct is up County Road 14. Right straight up to State 78 toward Newton.”

  “That’s right. Two of ’em together, ’cause when Al dumps the truck, he’s got to have a way home. My thinkin’ is that the body got dumped first. He’d need Darrell’s help with that. Then the truck.”

  “Sure. So where? What do we need? A side road would be handy. Not much traffic that night, and what few there might have been are paying attention to storm driving. So Al and Darrell pull off somewhere.”

  “We got about forty-five miles between here and Newton.”

  “That’s if they didn’t go anywhere else. Skip into Arizona, for instance.”

  Torrez shook his head slowly. “Truck ends up outside of Newton.” He swept a hand around the county, as if considering a route back through Posadas and then northwest. “Can’t believe they’d do that, and risk gettin’ stopped. They’d take the nearest, easy way.”

  “Why Newton at all?”

  “Out of the county, number one. Draws attention away, if it’s found. When it’s found. Ain’t much traffic up there. Puts the truck and Fitzwater’s murder in two different jurisdictions, number two. Like you said, Al is clever. Or thinks he is.”

  “He hinted about the ‘coyot hotel.’ He implied that you’d know what he was talking about.”

  “He’s going to have to do a hell of a lot more than hint. I don’t know what he’s talkin’ about. All of Posadas County is a coyote hotel, far as I’m concerned. I’ve seen ’em cruisin’ around in downtown Posadas. There’s a den of ’em right behind the hospital, out in that arroyo.” He almost smiled. “Despite some kids’ best efforts.”

  It had been Carlos, Estelle’s younger son, who had had the brainstorm of raising a coyote puppy, and he and a neighbor friend had tried all sorts of brilliant trapping strategies—none of which worked with the cunning canines.

  “How long have you known Al Fisher?”

  “Since he lived over on McArthur, back when he was in middle school.”

  “So we’re talking more than a decade.”

  “Yep. Back when his folks were still alive.”


  “Okay. Sometime during all those years, you had something to do with Al Fisher and coyotes. You talked to him about them, maybe you went hunting with him…?”

  Torrez snorted in derision. “Not likely.”

  “Something. He remembers it, even if you don’t.”

  “So we find a hypnotist.”

  “Just keep thinking, Bobby. Just do what Bill Gastner always used to talk about…going through all your old memory files.”

  Chapter Forty-four

  Her cell phone rang at 5:48 a.m., and it took several Beethoven chord tones before she could find the thing.

  “Good morning,” she managed.

  “Musta woke you.” The sheriff sounded alert and almost excited.

  “That’s all right. I had to get up to answer the phone anyway.”

  He didn’t react to the old joke, but instead said, “I remembered.”

  “Well, wonderful. Remembered what?”

  “Me talkin’ with Al Fisher. So I went out to scout around.”

  She peered at the clock again. “You’ve been up all night, haven’t you?”

  “Yep. Anyways, you got time now?”

  “To do what that can’t wait for daylight?”

  “We’re going to be busy doing other things come daylight.”

  A warm hand crept across under the blanket and relaxed on Estelle’s shoulder, then moved south along the bumpy road of her ribs to take the rise of her hip.

  “Where are you?”

  “Down south. How about we meet at Regál Pass as soon as you can? Wear a decent pair of hikin’ boots.”

  She looked at the clock again. 5:52. “This can’t wait for seven or eight o’clock, maybe?”

  “Nope. I’m thinkin’ you have other things going on today?” Torrez grunted something else that she didn’t catch, then added, “I found Fitzwater. I’m about to call Linda up here, too. We got us some answers.”

  “You found him?”

  “Yep.”

  “I’ll be there as soon as I can, then.”