Wild Wild Death

by Casey Daniels

  “Know each other from the ghost-hunting community so it really wouldn’t be any big surprise if they were involved in this together. And speaking of that…” He raised his eyebrows. “Did you ever get a hold of that guy you said you knew back in Cleveland? The one you were with the night you ran into Brian and his friends? You said he might remember Brian’s last name.”

  Talk about touchy situations. New lover asking about old lover, only new lover didn’t know old lover was a lover. Or a cop for that matter. No way I was going to mention any of that and have some sort of law enforcement bonding mojo going on. Once that happened, who knew what kinds of secrets Jesse and Quinn would share. I was in no mood to be the topic of their conversation. Or some weird game of macho one-upsmanship.

  “I called when you asked about it,” I reminded Jesse. “And again yesterday. He hasn’t returned my calls.”

  “Busy guy, huh?” I didn’t like the way Jesse said this. Like he already had his suspicions and he was just waiting for me to confirm them.

  I guess it was just as well that my cell phone rang. “Quinn.” I recognized the number so I was talking as soon as I answered. “You got my message?”

  “That’s not a very friendly hello from someone I haven’t heard from in a couple weeks.”

  Quinn is not the chipper sort so when I realized there was a bit of a lilt in his voice, it made me paranoid.

  I turned my back on Jesse. Yeah, like that would actually give me some privacy in a room the size of the walk-in closet I’d once had back home. “I’m working a case,” I said.

  “With dead people?”

  “No.” The whole truth and nothing but. “In fact, you’ll be happy to know I can’t see them anymore. The ghosts are gone and I’m on my own and—”

  “Really?” Don’t ask me why it interested him that I couldn’t see ghosts. When I could, he didn’t much care. “What are you doing about it?”

  “I’m investigating without them.”

  “How’s that working out for you?”

  I actually might have gotten irritated if he didn’t sound so damned perky. I know, I know… Quinn and perky. Two words that have never before been used together in the same sentence.

  I crinkled my nose. “Are you okay?”

  “Why shouldn’t I be?” I heard him draw in a deep breath and let it go in a kind of whoosh that said that, at least to him, all was right with the world. “Why haven’t you called?”

  “Phones work both ways. Why haven’t you called?”

  “I actually did. A couple days ago. Before you called me, in fact.”

  A couple days ago, I was up on Wind Mountain at the site of the ancient pueblo. Not much oxygen up that high and, for sure, no cell service. “What did you want?”

  “I was going to come see you.”

  “And I wouldn’t have been there because, like I said, I’m working a case. And for this case I’m working, I need some information. So that’s why I called. I thought you could—”

  “You don’t have to wait for me to call you. You know you can call me anytime. Or hey, I could come over to your place right now. Then we can talk.”

  “We could, but I need information now and—”

  “How about dinner?”

  As if it would help me make sense of his rambling, I shook my head. “We can do that another time. For now, I thought you might remember something I can’t remember. I need a name.”

  “You have one. Pepper.”

  I pulled the phone away from my ear and made a face at it. “You’re still taking those painkillers, aren’t you?”

  “No painkillers.” Across the thousands of miles that separated us, I heard the smile in his voice. “Got cleared by the docs today. They say I can go back to work.”

  That explained it! I actually breathed a sigh of relief. Now that I knew he hadn’t gone off the deep end, it might be easier to get through to Quinn. “That’s great. I know how much that means to you. And you can start right now. By helping me out. Like I said, I need a name.” No more bad jokes so I added quickly, “Those guys we met when we went to the Indians game. Brian, the ghost hunter, and his friends. Do you remember—”

  “Brian, John, Gregory, Arnie. Of course I remember. First names and last names. You think you’re dealing with an ordinary mortal?”

  I knew for a fact I was not. Like I said, old lover, and a damned good one.

  “So…” Of course, I had no idea what Quinn was really doing, but he sounded so self-satisfied, I pictured him strapping on his shoulder holster and admiring himself in the mirror while he talked. “You’re in New Mexico, right?”

  It took me a moment to find my voice and stammer, “How… how did you—”

  “Come on, give me some credit. Arnie got murdered out in New Mexico… what, three or four days ago? You didn’t think that would make the news here? He’s from Cleveland, after all. And now you’re calling and telling me you’re working a case and you need last names because you can’t remember. And one of the people who’s name is mentioned is the victim. So, who’s your suspect? Obviously, not Arnie.”

  “Obviously.”

  “I’m thinking Brian.”

  “Because…”

  I pictured him giving me one of his patented, blasé shrugs. “Brian was obviously the spokesman for the group so he was obviously in charge so if there’s something suspicious going on…”

  “Brian, yes.”

  “Ran him through the system as soon as I heard about Arnie. Brian Reynolds. Nothing there. No priors. Clean.”

  “Brian Reynolds. That helps.” I looked toward Jesse when I said this, and he got the message and got right on his phone to start digging from this end. “Only the cops out here—”

  “Cops, huh?” Oh yeah, I knew Quinn plenty well, and I knew there was a green spark in his eyes when he said this. “Any of them good looking?”

  I couldn’t help myself. I glanced at Jesse. Like I needed the reminder that good looking didn’t even begin to describe Jesse? I shook away the thought. “Does it matter?”

  “It does. You have a thing for cops.”

  “Not all cops.”

  “Yeah.” He chuckled. “Good thing it’s just me.”

  “Good thing.”

  “And that’s the other cop I hear talking there in the background, right?” There was no use denying it so I didn’t bother to answer. Though he wasn’t talking loud, Jesse had a deep voice and it rumbled through the room like thunder. “You must be at the station.”

  Dang, but I hated lying to Quinn. But not nearly as much as I hated the thought of dropping the truth on him without the proper chance to cushion the blow.

  I coughed from deep in my throat and hoped it sounded enough like static to justify me saying, “We’re breaking up.”

  “You mean our cell signal?”

  “Yeah. Of course. What else would I mean?” I mumbled a few unintelligible sounds just so he’d believe me. “We’ll talk. Soon.”

  It wasn’t until I hung up that I realized Jesse was off his call, too. “So how does he feel about that?” he asked.

  I tucked my phone into my purse. “About…”

  “He’s the one…” Like Quinn was actually standing there, Jesse poked his chin in the direction of my phone. “You said you never had any luck with law enforcement, explaining about the ghosts. He was the one who didn’t believe you.”

  “He’s not as open-minded as you.”

  He grabbed his hat from the bedside table. “I’m jealous.”

  “You shouldn’t be. There’s nothing going on between Quinn and me. Not these days.”

  “Not what I’m talking about.” Like I said, the room wasn’t big, and it didn’t take Jesse more than a couple steps to walk over to me. No lead-in. No explanation. He just took me in his arms and kissed me, long and hard, and when he was done, he looked into my eyes. “Because he knows you better than I do,” he said.

  I wrapped my arms around his neck. It was nice and cozy, and beside
s, the way he kissed me made my knees weak and I needed the extra support. “We’re working on that.”

  “We are.” He backed way. “And we can keep working on it in the car. Come on.” Jesse opened the door. “I’ve got a lead. Norma’s ex.”

  “And you think—”

  “I don’t know what to think.” He clapped his hat on his head. “That’s why we’re going to talk to him.”

  Turns out Will Kettle, Norma’s ex, was Taopi and he lived on pueblo land. Within an hour of leaving Antonito, we were outside the rusted trailer he called home sweet home.

  He didn’t ask us in, and I was relieved. From the brief glimpse I got when he opened the door, I saw that the inside of the trailer was cramped, dark, and packed with more junk than any one person should be allowed to own. There was mighty loud music coming from inside, too. Will snapped the door closed behind him, muffling the head-banging noise, and led the way to the other side of the trailer, where there were a couple battered lawn chairs set up under a torn green-and-white-striped canopy.

  Will was a short guy. Blotchy skin, stringy hair, as wiry as the stunted tree that grew over near where Jesse had parked the SUV. He lit a cigarette and dropped into a chair next to a propane grill that had seen better days. “Didn’t have nothing to do with Norma dying,” he said.

  “Didn’t say you did.” Jesse had refused the offer of a seat. He stood to my left, opposite Will, loose-limbed and comfortable, as much a part of that land as the dust that kicked up in a hot breeze. They must have known each other, Will and Jesse. It made me wonder how Will could look so darned unconcerned. Or maybe he just didn’t notice the hawk-like sharpness of Jesse’s eyes.

  “Sheriff from Antonito, he already talked to me,” Will added.

  “So I hear.” Jesse studied him for just long enough to make Will squirm. “Where were you when Norma got killed?”

  “At work. Over at the perlite mine. You can check with my supervisor.”

  “I don’t need to.” I wouldn’t be so bold as to call Jesse’s expression a smile. “Sheriff already did.”

  “Then you know there’s nothing I can tell you.”

  Jesse hitched his right hand over his gun. It wasn’t a threatening gesture. But it got Will’s attention. “I heard Norma broke up with you.”

  Will shifted in his chair. “No loss.”

  “You might not have thought so at the time.”

  “Shit, I was already seeing somebody else by the time Norma sprung the news on me that she’d fallen in love.” He gave the words a twist that told me Will didn’t believe in love. “Imagine the little bitch dumping me before I could dump her! No loss. I got Gabriella Montoya to help me forget. You know her, Jesse. Everybody knows her. Gabriella, she’s got a reputation.” A smile spread over his face like oil on water. Will had bad teeth. “Everything they say about Gabriella is true. Which means I ain’t exactly missing Norma.”

  “What happened?” Jesse wasn’t talking about Will and Gabriella, thank goodness. No way I wanted to know that story.

  He pulled in a lungful of smoke and blew it out in a long puff of indifference. “Norma was all right. If you know what I mean. But a guy like me…” Will’s gaze slithered in my direction. “I’m not a one-woman kind of guy, but when Norma said she was seeing someone else, well, I don’t put up with that kind of crap.”

  “The someone else, that had to be Brian.” I said this before Jesse shot me a look that told me not to say anything at all.

  He swung his gaze back to Will. “So Norma was seeing someone else, and that made you hopping mad.”

  “Like I said…” Will finished his cigarette, dropped it on the ground, and mashed it with the toe of his sneaker. “I already had Gabriella to help me forget.”

  “Except it doesn’t look as if you have forgotten. Not completely. Last night…” There was a folded piece of paper in Jesse’s back pocket and he pulled it out. “Heard you got picked up in Antonito, Will. Outside Norma’s house.”

  “That was bullshit!” Will jumped out of his chair so fast it tipped and hit the dirt. “I was just walking by is all.”

  “Not what the sheriff says.”

  “All right, so I was looking in the window, okay?” Will had stalked as far as the trailer and he came back the other way. “I left my guitar there, you know? When me and Norma, when we split. I left my guitar at her place, and hell, what was going to happen to it now that she’s dead? I didn’t know, but I sure didn’t want to see it in some estate sale one of these days. Then I got a call, you know, about picking it up.”

  Jesse cocked his head. “A call? From who?”

  Will shrugged. “Sheriff’s department. That’s what the guy said. Said if I stopped by last night, the house would be open and I could come in and get my things. Hey, I paid a hundred bucks for that damned guitar. Then I get over to Norma’s and it looked to me like the place was shut up tight and I thought—”

  “You thought about breaking in.”

  “Yeah, maybe. But thinking about it and doing it are two different things, and since I never did it, it’s not exactly a crime, is it?”

  Jesse took a couple steps closer. “You got a sheet, Will. You can’t afford to get nabbed again, or you’re going to be facing some serious time. Good thing that deputy drove by and spotted you and stopped you from doing what you shouldn’t have been thinking about doing in the first place.”

  “Yeah, well, a lot of good that deputy did me. He told me to get a move on, and I would have, too, if he stuck around to watch me leave. But he got a call, something about a big accident over on 285. He headed out fast. And I was all set to leave, too. That’s when I looked in the window… you know… just to check for sure about the person who was supposed to meet me there and let me in. And that’s when I realized there was already somebody in the house.” Will spat on the ground. “Now that’s the real crime. Calling somebody else and telling him he could come in and pick up stuff and then not letting me in to do the same. That damned guitar better still be there, or I swear—”

  “Another person? In the house?” Jesse aimed a laser look at Will. “If you’re lying to me, Will—”

  “Ain’t lying. Even thought of calling over to the sheriff’s department about it, but well…” Will crossed his arms over his scrawny chest. “After the way they treated me, I figured the hell with them. Going to file a complaint, though. About that call, and not being able to get my guitar.”

  I thought about the day I, too, had peeked into Norma’s window and saw Brian there with my Jimmy Choo bag. “Big guy, right?” I asked. “Sort of dorky looking. Close-cropped hair. Tattoo on the inside of his left wrist.”

  “Dorky, all right. But not all that big.” Will squeezed his eyes shut, remembering. “And he had shaggy hair. Brown. And wire glasses.”

  I sucked in a breath of superheated air just as Jesse took a copy of a photo out of his pocket—the one that I’d first seen back in Cleveland the day the ransom note arrived. He showed the picture to Will.

  “That’s him.” Will pointed a finger at Dan’s nose. “That’s him all right. When I got to Norma’s last night, that guy, he was already there inside the house.”

  “Don’t touch anything.”

  I wasn’t planning on it, but Jesse’s order brought out the stubborn redhead in me. We were just about to walk into Norma’s adobe next to the cemetery and my hands were in the pockets of my jeans. That is, until he had the nerve to say what he said, and I took out my hands and waved them around, just so he’d get the message.

  He did. At least I guess that’s what the eye rolling was all about.

  “You know I didn’t mean it like a threat or anything,” Jesse grumbled. “So don’t take it so personally. The sheriff called me in just as a courtesy, and I want to make sure we don’t get in the way. Besides, the last thing we need is your fingerprints contaminating the scene. I’ll bet anything your friend Dan’s are already doing that.”

  “My friend Dan’s.” He’d already walke
d into the house ahead of me and was greeting the sheriff and the deputies at work in there, so I don’t think Jesse heard either my mumbling or the sarcasm in my voice. Like I’d told him on the way from the pueblo back to Antonito, no way Dan was involved. And if Will Kettle said he was, then Will was just crazy. Or so eager to deflect any guilt away from himself that he was willing to point the finger at Dan. Or more specifically, at Dan’s picture.

  “I wasn’t planning on touching anything,” I said, stepping into the pint-sized living room. There was a middle-aged guy with a bushy mustache in there shaking hands with Jesse. He looked familiar, and I remembered the last time I’d been at Norma’s, the day I got conked on the head and ended up in the ER. Mustache Man was the sheriff, of course, and it wasn’t until he looked at me and shook his head in disgust that I realized I was holding on to the front door.

  I dropped my hand and wiped it against the leg of my jeans. Yeah, like that would somehow magically erase any fingerprints I’d already left.

  “Don’t touch anything,” the sheriff said. Delivering the message, he didn’t sound nearly as menacing as Jesse had when he said the same thing. In fact, the sheriff sounded as if he’d had to give this sort of warning far too many times, and he was just plain tired of it. “And don’t go getting yourself knocked over the head again, Ms. Martin. I got too much on my plate to have to handle another assault report. Why don’t you just…” He flattened his hands and pushed them, palms out, toward me. The way a trainer would who wanted a dog to sit and stay. “You just stay put and don’t get into any trouble while I show Jesse what we’re up to here.”

  What they were up to was dusting for prints there in the living room and in Norma’s tiny bedroom with the magazine pictures of tropical islands pinned up on the walls. I watched them for a while—hands in pockets—but let’s face it, I didn’t like to see anyone work more than they had to. And these guys?

  “They’re wasting their time.” In the interest of not embarrassing Jesse, I kept my voice down, but I wanted to make sure he knew I wasn’t buying this Dan-as-guilty-party hogwash. “I could just save them the trouble and tell them Dan wasn’t here. How could he be if he’s been kidnapped?”