by Mark Tufo
Quinn shook her head. “I disagree. Guys are intimidated by smart women.”
Calvin shot her a sideways look. “When they look like her? I doubt it.”
Quinn’s face fell and she quickly stood up. “I need to do something,” she said quietly as she stepped out of the RV.
“Oh, hell.” Ginger moaned.
“What?” Calvin asked.
“You totally blew it, boss.”
Calvin shook his head. “I don’t understand.”
Ginger rolled her eyes. “She’s totally in love with you. And you just made a comment about ME. In front of her. Without saying something like ‘yeah, she’s hot but not as hot as you, Quinn’ or adding some other qualifier that gets your ass out of hot water.”
Calvin’s mouth dropped open. “Are you serious?”
Ginger shot him a ‘duh’ look. “You CAN’T be that dense.”
He glanced at the door and Quinn’s quickly retreating form. “Are you sure?”
“Oh, my God,” she moaned.
“What do I do?” Calvin asked. “How do I fix her?”
“Fix her? She isn’t broken, boss. You just have the tact of a terrorist at a tea party.”
Calvin rolled his eyes. “What do I do?”
“Be nice. Pay her some compliments. But mean them, don’t just slather her with things you don’t mean. And for the love of Pete, be sincere.”
Calvin peeked out the window again and could barely see her as she rounded the corner. “She really is beautiful.”
“Treat her that way then.”
He nodded. “Just as soon as she gets back.”
“In the meantime, we have some stuff to go over,” Ginger pulled her pack up to the table and dumped the contents out.
18
“Are you serious?” Eckerson asked as he sipped his coffee.
Gregory sat across from the two other officers and pushed the book across to them. He flipped it open to where the bookmark held his spot. “This is the reference book. And I called the author. She’s a local lady and really sweet. She has all of her research material still and we are more than welcome to go through it all if you’ll just look at this and realize where the tie in is.”
Jon pulled the book across and scanned across the highlighted portions. “Where did you get this?”
Ben smiled. “Ruby.”
Eckerson paused and stared at him. “Ruby?”
“She’s a member of some book club, and I was here late one night working on some stuff. She saw the list of names of the vics. She recognized the last names from this book.” Ben tapped the cover.
Jeff cocked a brow at him. “You let her see a list of names of victims?”
Ben rolled his eyes. “She was bringing a refill of coffee and my stuff was scattered everywhere. It was just the last names and…you know, you don’t need to be so damned judgmental, okay? It was an accident, but it paid off.”
Jon browsed through the pages and looked up at Jeff. “Take a look at this.” He handed the book to him.
Jeff snatched the book and glanced at the page. “What am I looking at?”
“The names highlighted in yellow,” Jon said.
Eckerson ran his finger down the pages, his brows furrowing. He set the book down and continued reading. “This can’t be right.”
“It is. I double checked.” Ben sat back with his coffee and watched as Eckerson poured over the book. He could almost see his lips move as he read through the pages, his eyes scanning the lines.
After a bit, he set the book down and stared out the window. “You spoke with the author?”
“Yup. She’s a very nice lady.”
Jeff nodded. “And she’s willing to let us go through her research material?”
“As long as we return it.” Ben took a long sip from the coffee.
Eckerson turned to Foo. “Looks like we need to pay a visit to this…” he picked up the book again, “Jana Mattox.”
“Sounds like a plan. But first, I’m having lunch,” Jon said as he waved Ruby over. “This thing has waited this long, it can wait a little longer.”
Eckerson sighed and handed Ben back the book. “Just because this makes sense doesn’t mean that I entirely buy it.”
“I know. Hell, I’m not sure I buy it.”
“I really should tell Justin about this,” Jeff said quietly.
“Isn’t he playing chauffeur to that gal from DPS?” Ben asked.
Jeff smiled. “Yeah, but I think he’d like a chance to ditch her if he could.” He tapped the book. “This could give him the excuse he needs.”
“You don’t think she’d try to tag along?” Ben asked.
Jeff thought a moment before nodding. “Good point. So we do this without him.”
“He’ll forgive you this small transgression, I think,” Jon said.
Eckerson gave him a sideways smirk. “You don’t know Justin very well, do you?”
*****
Maria blinked her eyes and looked around the study. She reached out a hand to steady herself as she suddenly felt very dizzy. She slowly sat down in the chair across from Mr. Miller’s desk and wiped at her brow, a wave of nausea suddenly coming upon her. She held her head in her hands and closed her eyes. She had no memory of coming into the study and she breathed deeply to hold herself together while she tried to mentally retrace her steps.
She felt so tired and drained. Perhaps she was coming down with the flu or some other virus…maybe a cold…please don’t let it be dementia, she thought.
She took a few more deep breaths to calm herself before regaining her feet and looking about the study. Everything appeared to be where it should be. She glanced down and saw her feather duster and slowly stooped to pick it up. So many thoughts ran through her mind, maybe a mini-stroke, a simple blackout, perhaps her blood sugar had dipped too low…she shook her head to clear it and went about dusting in the study once more. Once she was satisfied that the study was proper, she exited and headed to her cleaning closet.
Opening the door, she glanced at the clock as she always did. She was shocked that it was so much later than she expected. She had lost at least two hours and had no idea where the time might have slipped to. She checked the little Timex strapped to her wrist and verified that the wall clock was indeed correct. She quickly put away her cleaning supplies and hurried to the kitchen to prepare Mr. Miller’s dinner.
Maria found her hands shaking as she sliced the vegetables to go with the roast that had been slow cooking in the crockpot all afternoon. As she peeled and chopped she couldn’t stop her mind from wandering to worst case scenarios. Her poor son had been so badly affected by the loss of her husband, she simply could not imagine how he would carry on if anything happened to her.
She put on a steamer for rice and began preparing the brown gravy to go along with the meal. She checked the time once more and quickly spread the vegetables in the crock-pot with the meat, sprinkling fresh ground black pepper and course ground sea salt across the top. Putting the top back on the cooker, she planted both hands on the counter and began to sob.
“I’m not ready to die,” she whimpered in Spanish.
She felt her knees weaken and her body slowly slide to the floor, convinced that something terrible was wrong with her. She had barely turned and sat in the kitchen floor when the door from the kitchen to the patio creaked open and a soft breeze blew in, caressing her skin. She glanced to the door, wiping at her face, scrambling to her feet, afraid that Mr. Miller had seen her sitting in the floor crying like a child.
The soft, sweet scent of honeysuckle floated into the room and greeted her as she stepped into the breeze and pulled the door open further, looking out into the patio and the dwindling light. “Hello?” she called tentatively.
The breeze picked up slightly and blew across her face, drying the remnants of her tears and Maria smiled, the scent of honeysuckle thickening on the wind. Maria smiled wider with understanding and nodded slightly. “Yes,” she muttered softly, �
�I understand now.” She stood there a moment longer, holding the door open as the breeze continued to gust gently with ebbs and flows that blew gently across her face. Maria found herself swaying with a lilting motion as the wind sung to her. “Of course you may.” she replied. She extended her arm as if to caress an unseen love and a sadness struck her heart that made her weep.
She began to sob once more and withdrew into the house, scrambling for a seat. “Dios mio…” she cried, her cries turning to great wracking sobs. The door blew open completely and the breeze blew into the kitchen, turning into a small dust devil, encircling her, forming into a mist, taking the shape of a person.
Maria continued to sob, her head bowed, buried in her folded arms against the table, her body shaking in anguish. The mist faded into a cloud and encircled her, shrouding her like a blanket of fog, embracing her. She lifted her head and stared out through reddened eyes, sniffling back her tears.
“How could you love so deeply?” she asked, and the fog tightened its embrace upon her.
With gasping breaths she inhaled deeply of the honeysuckle scented air and sighed, slowly shaking her head. “It isn’t fair,” she said quietly. “Too soon, far too soon.”
The fog settled in about her and rested upon her shoulders as Maria rested her head again. She closed her eyes and her breathing slowly became more even as she quickly drifted into a deep sleep.
The breeze settled and fell away leaving the kitchen still and quiet. Maria sat alone in the quiet and slept for a bit, only to awaken with no real memory of what took place and only a faded memory of an odd dream. A dream of a dusty little town from long ago and two young lovers who were never meant to be…
*****
Scott refused to leave the office. He poured another cup of coffee and sat at his desk, going through the numerous files one more time. Although he knew his officers were properly trained and had done a thorough job, he felt there had to be something that somebody had missed. He rubbed at his eyes in a poor attempt to stave off the headache he could feel coming on.
Amber Meeks opened the door to his office and stepped in opening a bottle of headache formula. “Here. These will help,” She offered him the white tablets.
“What is it?”
“Tylenol, aspirin and caffeine. Kills the headache completely.”
Scott turned his gaze toward her and shook his head. “How did you—” he started to ask.
“Just take them,” she barked as she screwed the lid back on the bottle. She sat down across from him and shook her head disapprovingly. “Have you been sleeping?” she asked, reminding him a lot of his mother.
“Not very well.”
“That’s part of the problem. This case will be solved. But not like you think it will be,” she told him enigmatically.
He swallowed the pills and washed it down with the coffee. “What do you mean, ‘not like I think it will be’?”
She offered a smile that was sweet and genuine. “Boss, there are some things that simply cannot be explained. This case is one of them.”
“What do you know that I don’t know, Amber?” He was beginning to become angered.
She paused then, turned and gave him the saddest look he had ever seen from her. “Sometimes the answer to a question isn’t the answer we want to hear.” She looked as though she were searching for the correct words. “Sometimes, the truth isn’t what we think it should be, and it’s very hard to accept.”
“You’re not making any sense.”
“I know.” She opened the door to his office again. “But it’s quitting time and Brenda’s here. It’s time for you to go home and get some rest. It’s time for me to hand over the big chair to the dragon lady and it’s time for you to let go of preconceived notions.”
“You still aren’t making sense.”
“It will make sense tomorrow.” She pulled his door shut. “Good night, boss.”
He watched as her shadow faded from view through the frosted glass of his office door and he shook his head at her. She always was an odd bird. She somehow knew things before they happened; suspected things were going to happen and would act as if ready for them whereas others would have to react. He didn’t regret hiring her, but he admitted to himself that he often questioned both her sanity and his own for keeping her on after she had spooked the shit out of him on more than one occasion with her strange sense of ‘knowing’.
Scott turned his attention back to the files on his desk and sighed again. Maybe she was right. Maybe after a good night’s sleep he might better see what he thought he was looking for.
He got up and left the sheriff’s office, pulling his door to behind him. As he walked out, that nagging feeling that he was forgetting something refused to leave him.
*****
Ben slowly approached the small house from the front with Jeff and Jon in tow. He stepped onto the nondescript front porch and opened the screen door, tapping lightly on the front door.
“She’s a really sweet lady,” he said to the two men behind him.
The door opened and a small framed, matronly woman stood in the doorway. “Constable!” She pulled the door open all the way. “I’m so glad you returned.”
“Yes, ma’am, I promised you I would. And these two fine gentlemen are with the Wood County Sheriff’s Department, Ms. Mattox. If you don’t mind, they’d like to ask you a lot of the same questions I did and maybe go through your research material.” Ben offered his best smile.
“It’s all still on the dining table.” She ushered them in.
Ben made the introductions and Eckerson seemed stiff and quite uncomfortable at first. Jana was a very accommodating host, providing tall glasses of sweet tea and finger foods for snacks while the three law enforcement officers dug through the research material she had used as reference for her book.
It seemed like hours had passed before Jon set aside his notes. “Ms. Mattox?”
“Please, just call me Jana. I don’t stand on formality, deputy.”
Jon blushed slightly as he got the distinct feeling she was flirting with him. “Thank you, ma’am.” He cleared his throat slightly and looked back at his notes, “You reference here that this Sheriff Tolbert was buried at the Little Hope Missionary Church?”
“Yes, he was. There were records that indicate that a family member paid quite handsomely for a premium burial for both Sheriff Tolbert and his fiancée, but so help me, I couldn’t find any record of the internment in the church records. By the time the good Sheriff was murdered, the Little Hope Missionary Baptist Church’s attendance had dropped to almost nothing and their recordkeeping was horrible.
“I actually walked through the cemetery a couple of times to try to find his grave, but it must be one of the unmarked ones,” she said. “I just couldn’t figure it out. From what I could find out, the graveyard was full. I just can’t decipher if it was his grave that filled the graveyard or if the cemetery was already full and they buried him elsewhere. It’s just so…vague.”
Jon sighed and stretched his back. “These records are all in cursive and their spelling is atrocious.”
Jana grinned and slid her glasses down her nose to look at him better. “You have to keep in mind, in those times people were lucky to go to school and learn to read and write. Many who could often spelled phonetically as they got older because they didn’t know all of the rules or had forgotten the ones they had learned as a child.”
“Hey, take a look at this,” Eckerson said. “These are the payrolls from Miller’s ranch.” He spun the ledger around for Jon to look at.
“Yes, that is what I used to verify those who were rumored to have been present the day that Sheriff ‘Two Guns’ Tolbert and his fiancée were taken and killed. Although the Miller Ranch had numerous locals and migrant workers, he also employed a lot of drifters. Many had less-than-desirable characteristics.”
“Those characteristics tend to rub off on others,” Jeff said, stating the obvious.
Jana nodded. “And
a lot of the people that Miller’s son Simon ran around with felt it necessary to adopt that bad attitude to keep from losing face.”
“So a law enforcement officer, a good man, and his fiancée, both had to die to keep some spoiled rich kid from losing face with a bunch of hooligans?” Foo asked.
Ben leaned in and spoke, “In many ways, it mirrors the cop killings of modern day gang members.”
Eckerson studied him a moment then nodded, “In a convoluted way, I can see your point. It sort of does. But it doesn’t change anything in the here and now.” He stabbed his finger against the table top. “Look, I’m usually the one to say that anything’s possible and that we should consider all the possibilities, but I can’t go to Scott with this and say that this is the only tie we have to all of the victims. That their great-grandfathers were all dirt bags and all took part in the killing of an Old West sheriff.” He felt his face getting hot. “There has to be something else.”
Foo looked at him blankly. “If there is, I’m all ears. Look, I don’t like it either, but Ben has done a lot of legwork going back to all of the witnesses and compiling their statements a second time when they were a bit more coherent and none of them…not one of them has changed a word of their testimony.”
“It isn’t testimony until they’re sworn in,” Eckerson corrected unnecessarily.
“You know what I mean!” Jon stood up quickly and stepped away from the table. “Dammit, Jeff, this is all we have. And whether we like it or not, it’s pointing us in one direction.”
“Hey, easy, buddy.” Gregory held his hands up defensively. “We’re just bouncing ideas around here and going through Jana’s research. That’s all. Nobody says we HAVE to take all of this to Scott.” He attempted to de-escalate the situation. “Right?” He looked to Eckerson whose face was unreadable.
Jeff finally took a deep breath and shook his head. “No, we don’t. We can just keep going through this and use it to help us get a better idea of what it is we’re looking at, IF, and this is a HUGE leap here, but IF we decide that it’s actually some kind of ghost that’s running around out there skinning these guys and feeding them their own…” he glanced at Jana who had suddenly gone pale, “well, I, uh…”
