Dog Gone Lies (Pacheco & Chino Mysteries Book 1)

by Ted Clifton

  “Look Ray, I can see the political mine fields lying all around here. And of course I don’t care—all I want is to find my ex-wife and make sure she’s okay. We’re divorced, but we’re good friends and I’m terribly worried about her. Is there any way I could hire you to conduct a private investigation with me as your client. I don’t have tons of money, but I can afford to pay for a few weeks of investigation if you’ll do that.”

  “Mike, I’m just a private citizen. I’m not a private investigator. Plus, I’ve already butted heads with the sheriff—he wouldn’t cooperate with me now no matter how I approached him. I think your best bet might be to contact the El Paso police department and see if you could get them interested.”

  “I have called them, and they said there was no evidence that Monica was in El Paso. Everything they had learned said she disappeared from T or C and I should contact the sheriff there.”

  “Well, I sure understand your frustration with the sheriff. One of the hardest parts of being in law enforcement is dealing with the families and their concerns. Many times there are no answers and that can be very difficult to accept.”

  “Well, Ray, you know that as much as anything else you want the people in charge to show that they care. I’m afraid the T or C sheriff’s office hasn’t done a very good job of that.”

  “I know it’s very difficult.” Ray filled Mike in on what he’d learned and what he suspected might have happened, with someone taking Monica and the dog from the parking lot in the early hours Saturday morning. He feared that the dog had escaped in the area of his cabin when something happened—either an accident or maybe murder—although he had no evidence apart from the fact that Happy, or Bruce, had showed up at his cabin.

  Ray showed Mike into the cabin and fixed some coffee. Mike was obviously dealing with some health problems and almost fell into the chair. They drank their coffee and continued to talk about what might have happened to Monica. The afternoon wore on, and Mike gave no indication of leaving.

  “Mike, I’ve got a meeting I’m going to in an hour or so. Would you like to stay here this evening? There’s an extra bedroom and it wouldn’t be a problem for me. You’re looking a little tired and I thought it might be difficult getting back to T or C in the dark. What do you say?”

  “Oh, thanks Ray. That’s so kind. I am a bit tired. My health hasn’t been real good lately and I tire so easily. I don’t want to be a burden, but at this point I’m not sure I could drive back, so thank you very much. By the way, you asked if I was here about the dog. If Monica was here, I bet she’d ask you to keep him if you wanted to, and I’d offer him to you as part of your fee if you decide to discover what happened to Monica.”

  Ray showed Mike the spare room and the extra bathroom, told him to make himself at home, and said he’d leave Happy there while he went out for a little while. Regarding his taking on the investigation, he told Mike that he would think about it and they could talk again. Ray made sure Mike was comfortable and secure, then headed to Big Jack’s.

  The meeting of the Clayton campaign was attended by Deputy Clayton and his wife, Ann, Cindy from the office, her boyfriend Sam, Tyler Boyd, who was a clerk in the mayor’s office, Ray, Tyee, and Big Jack. Clayton made a few remarks about how much he appreciated everyone trying to help. Ray stood after Clayton and spelled out the challenge. It boiled down to getting people who weren’t usually involved in county politics to register and vote. The plan was simple. Tyee would identify people who were registered, as well as residents who hadn’t registered. They would hold meetings for the non-registered residents and try to get them to register. Ray went on to explain that the approach that he thought would work best for Clayton would be straight talk about the nepotism and cronyism that existed between the sheriff’s office and the mayor’s office. Clayton would spell out the things he would do differently to run an honest sheriff’s department that would treat everyone equally. No one cheered, but there was a lot of head nodding—it looked like a consensus.

  Tyee stood up and, in a commanding voice, explained how he had developed the lists and how he thought they should be used. He thought it would be better to have more meetings with fewer people as opposed to large events. Everyone seemed to agree. The lists were divided up, and everyone went to work trying to develop the ideal list of people to invite to the meetings. They ended up with twenty-two lists of about 150 people. Their plan became clearer with the goal of having twenty-two events, inviting the 150 people from the lists. They decided that Big Jack would host eleven meetings and Ray would host eleven. As they worked into the night, the overall strategy started to take shape. They would need materials to hand out, and people to do a solicitation campaign by telephone and door-to-door. The entire group became energized, with people suggesting others who they thought would want to join to help organize the meetings. Big Jack suggested that some of the meetings should be barbeques, and everyone was enthusiastic in theory, but it was clear that it was going to cost a lot. Big Jack said fuck the cost, he would pay, and on that profane and uplifting note the meeting was adjourned.

  As the group was breaking up, Tyee signaled to Ray that they should talk.

  “Thought the meeting went well. Really looking forward to seeing if we can make a difference. Just wanted to let you know that two of the Ms. Jackson’s numbers were fairly easy to identify. One was her ex-husband in Albuquerque—a guy named Mike Jackson. The other was to the Camino Real El Paso Hotel. I checked it out and found that was where the dog show was held. I can’t tell if she called someone in particular or just called the hotel. The other partial number I’m still working on.”

  “Let me tell you something Tyee. The stuff you’ve put together for Clayton is terrific. I have no idea if we can change anything or not, but I’m happy that we’re trying. The call to Mike Jackson doesn’t surprise me. He’s actually at my cabin as we speak. Just showed up out of the blue wondering if he could hire me to find his ex-wife. They’re apparently good friends and he’s very worried. I’ll need to ask him about the call, but I’d say he’s not a suspect. The other one I’ll follow up on and see what I can learn.”

  “Did her ex-husband hire you?”

  “I said no. Mostly because I’m not sure what he’d hire me as—a PI, or just some guy checking stuff out? Plus, I’ve got fishing duties to fulfill.”

  Ray said his goodbyes and headed out. He thought about all of the things that were going on in his world and started to chuckle. This wasn’t how he’d envisioned retirement in the backwoods.

  Friday

  Ray and Mike enjoyed a simple breakfast of coffee with toast and Welch’s grape jelly. Why the simple things tasted the best wasn’t a mystery to Ray—they just were the best—no mystery.

  At this point in the morning Ray hadn’t planned his day. He wasn’t fishing today, so it felt like he should do something to help learn more about Monica’s disappearance. He was reluctant to bring that up with Mike because he was concerned that Mike might take it as an implied agreement to be hired as an investigator. “Ray, I want to thank you for your hospitality last night. It was very kind—not sure I could’ve made it back to town. I was exhausted. This morning I feel much better. I think I’ll head back to Albuquerque today so I can check on the rest of Monica’s dogs. Our oldest son was supposed to have done that yesterday and today, but sometimes he’s not very reliable.” Mike had a pained expression on his face when as he talked about his oldest son.

  “Also Ray, if there’s any way you could help with this matter with Monica, it would be great. I know this isn’t your business and there’s no particular reason for you to do it, but I have nowhere else to turn. If you don’t push this, I think the sheriff will just let it drop.”

  “Mike, I think it’s good that you head back to Albuquerque. You’re just going to wear yourself out waiting around here for something to happen. I’m going to look into this for my own reasons. Not ready to be hired as a PI for many reasons, so let’s just say I’ll do this based on
our new friendship.”

  Ray could see that his words had an emotional impact on Mike.

  “That’s wonderful Ray. I really appreciate it—you really don’t know how much.” He seemed on the verge of tears.

  Ray needed to change the subject before he broke down too. He said that Mike should get his stuff together and get on the road before the day got too old. They shook hands, and both men seem pleased to have found a new friend. After Mike packed and gave Happy a good rub, he headed toward his car.

  “If anything comes up, you have my contact information. I also left information on two of my sons who are living in Albuquerque, it’s on your kitchen table. If something does happen and you aren’t able to get ahold of me, please give them a call. Thanks again, Ray, for everything.”

  Mike got into his car and started the bumpy ride down the so-called road.

  Ray decided to head over to Big Jack’s with Happy and see if Tyee was around or if anything was going on in general. When he pulled up in front of the store, he was surprised to see a lot of cars. It was almost noon and this usually wasn’t a very busy time for Big Jack. Ray went into the store and could see several people milling about. He didn’t see Big Jack or Tyee. He looked out back and still didn’t see them. One of the people who’d been standing around came over.

  “Are you a local?”

  Ray was about to say no—when he realized he was. “Yes, sir. My name is Ray. Is there something I could help you with?”

  “Well, we’ve been here quite a while and nobody’s shown up to help us. Just wondering if maybe this is some sort of crazy honor system or something?”

  “Pretty sure Big Jack hasn’t implemented an honor system. Let me look in the back, maybe he got busy on something and just lost track of time. If I can’t find him I’ll come back and help you myself.” Although Ray wasn’t sure he knew how the antique cash register worked, he figured he needed to reassure the customer. He let Happy out onto the dock so he could find his favorite spot and begin his afternoon nap, then headed to the only place Big Jack and Tyee could be: the new computer room. Ray opened the door and saw them both, engrossed in something on the computer screen.

  “Big Jack, you’ve got a store full of customers who are threatening to clean the place out.”

  Big Jack looked up with a smile. “Doubt very much anyone could clean out that store, at least not anytime soon. Thanks Ray, guess I lost track of time. I’ll go out and see how I can help them.”

  “What was so interesting on the computer?”

  “Just confirmation of what we were saying about the numbers. There are almost three times the number of non-townspeople to townspeople. I think this gives Clayton a very good chance of winning. Also we were wondering if we could get enough invites out to have a barbeque on Sunday. What do you think—free food and beer on Sunday afternoon?”

  “That’s pretty quick. But free beer ought to have some appeal, so why not? I guess we’d need to invite 300 or so people to get a good number who actually show up. Have some ideas on a flyer or something we can hand out?”

  Tyee said he had worked up a simple flyer and thought they should concentrate their distribution on the lake area. They could pass them out and then have the people talk to their neighbors about it. Ray looked at the flyer and was impressed with Tyee’s skills once again. They talked about calling Clayton and getting some more people to hand them out the next day.

  “What’s going on out there in the store—you said there were customers?”

  “Yeah, surprised me. When I showed up there were three cars out front and maybe ten or more people in the store. They’re not local, so not sure what it was about.”

  Ray and Tyee went into the store and found there were now even more customers than before. Big Jack was smiling and ringing up sales on the old cash register. When he had a break, he joined Ray and Tyee.

  “Seems there was an article in the El Paso paper about the fishing tournament week after next. These people were in El Paso on some kind of church mission, saw the article, and decided to come up and see the lake. They didn’t know there was such a large lake in New Mexico. Anyway, just a freakish thing. Normally we only get about twenty or so fishermen entering the tournament, so it’s never attracted much attention from the press. Also looks like I have about thirty messages on my machine, presumably something to do with the same article.”

  “What would you do, Big Jack, if you had this kind of business all day long?”

  “Lock the door.”

  Big Jack wasn’t a devoted business man. Part of his daily routine was an afternoon nap on the dock, weather permitting, and it would be absurd to have it interrupted by customers. As it turned out, the church group could probably have been trusted to make their selections and leave the money, but the next group to come in might take all the beer. Big Jack didn’t seem too concerned one way or the other, though.

  After the invaders had satisfied their curiosity they loaded into their cars and headed back to El Paso. Ray suggested they stop at La Posta in Old Messila to have dinner, highly recommending the food.

  Once the quiet of the store returned, they went back to the plans for the meeting on Sunday. Tyee started printing flyers, and Ray called Clayton and told him their plans. Clayton was excited and said he would get his wife, as well as Cindy and her boyfriend, to distribute the flyers the next day.

  Pretty soon Big Jack suggested it was time for a beer. Ray and Tyee joined him on the dock and sipped their beers. Well, Ray and Tyee sipped—Big Jack was doing something closer to gulping. Happy was well pleased to have the company and settled down as close as he could get to the group.

  “I think Big Jack’s should sponsor you in the Elephant Butte Fishing Tournament—what do you think Ray?” This was Big Jack speaking in between gulps of beer and chews on his cigar.

  “Do you ever light that cigar?” Tyee seemed curious about the ever-present, disgusting cigar.

  “That’ll teach me to give an Indian a beer.”

  Ray thought this was good natured banter, but decided it was best if he changed the subject.

  “Exactly what would that mean, Big Jack, if you sponsored me in the tournament?”

  “Mostly it would mean I’d provide you with a Big Jack’s hat and vest. If you win I would get half your earnings and free publicity. If you lose, I’d be out a hat and vest and the fifty dollar entry fee.”

  “If I win, what’s the prize?”

  “First place prize is three thousand dollars.”

  “Why not sponsor Tyee?”

  “Well, he won the first three tournaments, so the executive committee, which is actually just me, decided on a new rule the next year that doesn’t allow professional fishing guides to enter.”

  “White man fuck Indian once again.”

  “Yeah, doesn’t feel right, just because he won to stop him from entering.”

  “Okay, maybe it wasn’t right, but nobody else would enter if Tyee was fishing. So the tournament wouldn’t exist. So what do you do? Piss off one guide or stop the tournament? I went with pissed off guide. Hell, he was already pissed off about something all the time, so what was the harm?”

  They pondered the complications of fishing guides in fishing tournaments for a minute. “Okay, I’ll enter the tournament—and I’m going to win!”

  Tyee didn’t look too convinced about the last part. “You’ve only caught one fish in your life—how are you going to win?”

  “I’m going to use old Indian wisdom and cheat.”

  “White man very wise.”

  From this point on, most of their attention went to drinking beer.

  Saturday

  Ray woke up a little groggy. He decided he’d probably had a couple of beers too many the night before—but he’d sure had a good time. He enjoyed Big Jack and Tyee’s company in a way he hadn’t experienced in a long time. He got up slowly and let Happy out for his morning activities, then headed toward the kitchen and coffee.

  Ray fixed
a cup of instant coffee and decided to get dressed, a fairly simple process for Ray since he wore basically the same thing every day. He washed his clothes often, it was just that everything he had looked the same. This wasn’t an issue for him, and so far nobody else had mentioned it. While he was showering, Ray decided he would head into town and treat himself to breakfast at the Lone Post, very much aware that Sue would be working that morning.

  After dressing, he exited the bedroom and realized there was no sound at all in the cabin—Happy hadn’t returned. He felt a sudden fear. Happy wasn’t used to all the things he might encounter around the cabin. Each time Ray let him out he felt concerned. He started out the door to see if he could find Happy, when the dog appeared on the porch of his own accord. Ray noticed that as time had gone by, Happy had become a little more disheveled than when he’d first arrived. He felt bad that he wasn’t brushing him as much as he should, but it was reality: the days of getting show dog treatment were over. He gave the dog a good rub, went back in the cabin to get his jacket, and then locked the door. As he was turning to leave, he noticed something. Reaching down, he realized it was a woman’s shoe.

  This felt like an ominous sign. It could belong to Ms. Jackson. Ray figured that Happy had found it somewhere and brought it home. What seemed odd to him was that Happy wasn’t acting like it was his owner’s shoe. Ray decided he was going to search the area immediately around his cabin that day and see what he could find. With that in mind, he headed toward Big Jack’s to see if Tyee might be there and to ask if he’d assist in the search.

  He and Happy got to Big Jack’s quickly. It was apparent that Big Jack was having another good business day, which would put him in a foul mood for sure. Ray and Happy went around back and looked to see if Tyee’s boat was there, but it wasn’t. No boat, no Tyee. Ray decided they would head into T or C and have breakfast—he was starving.