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Canine Cupids for Cops

Page 4

by Deirdre O'Dare


  No, it couldn’t be. He had a gut feeling about Ike, one he’d had from the first. The lean man was a good person, trying his best to atone for and leave behind the result of his one mistake. Ike didn’t want to go back to prison, so why would he be pushing drugs? He wouldn’t, but there would be many who’d suspect him. Perry had to find the real El Feo and find him soon, before Ike was fingered for crimes he did not commit.

  * * * *

  Returning to Riata, Perry drove by the shelter operated jointly by the Catholic Church and a group of concerned citizens. Anabelle Vega was on duty at the front desk. He’d never really been interested in women, but if he had been, he would have dated Anabelle. She wasn’t the prettiest woman around, but an inner sweetness radiated from her smile. Kids loved her.

  “Oh, no, I see you’ve got Mr. Delgado’s grandkids again. That means he’s drunk or off getting drunk, and his daughter is probably stoned out of her mind or took off with some guy.”

  “So, you know them. I don’t think I’ve brought them in before, and I wasn’t sure who they were. The boy ran out to intercept me and said he couldn’t wake his mother up and they were hungry. She wasn’t in good shape, maybe an overdose. The EMTs took her in. And yes, the kids said Poppi was gone.”

  Anabelle shook her head, sadness clear in her pale gray eyes. “There are so many now, with the mine closed. Whoever is left is struggling to survive. Most of them turn to alcohol or drugs or both. As far as I know, Rosa Delgado’s never been married, but she has these two kids—and she’s not really old enough, much less mature enough, to be a mother. This time, the state may just take them.” She sighed.

  “Probably best if they do,” Perry said, jolted when he heard his own harsh tone. Most of the time, he didn’t take things to heart this much. Maybe like Anabelle said, it was just so many. Life seemed to get more harsh, more cruel, all the time. Like Ike—nothing he’d seen so far showed a man who deserved to go to prison, deserved to be suspected…Oh, shit, he needed to get his head back straight. Maybe he’d ask Ben for a few days off and go somewhere, even if it was winter. Hardly the time for a fishing trip or a campout. Still, he felt a need to get away and turn his back on the constant troubles for a short time.

  Knowing the children would be fed and cared for, he went back to the SUV and then paused, not sure where to go next. The radio had been quiet most of the evening. It was cold and windy, felt like another storm blowing in. One often did, about a week or two before Christmas. If drug dealers were out, he’d have next to no chance to stumble upon them. So what should he do?

  Maybe he’d go get some coffee. The wind left a chill in his bones. Suddenly, he felt an urgency to see Ike, to know the former prisoner was okay and not in any trouble. Maybe he’d still be at the diner. It wasn’t a logical urge, but he rarely ignored such a strong hunch. Turning at the next corner, he headed for Dot’s.

  * * * *

  Ike worked through the afternoon at Dot’s. It was a slow day. He watched curlicues of dust twist down the street and clouds go scudding by to the north and east, gradually growing thicker and darker. Not many folks were out and about. With just over a couple of weeks until Christmas, he figured anyone with money was off to one of the bigger towns to do holiday shopping. Even though he had a little money saved, he was hoarding that to try to find a place to rent for himself and the little red dog. At first, he had thought to call the mutt Esperanza. Now that word had too many bad connotations. In time, he’d think of something. For now, he was just Rojito or Little Red Dog.

  Perry kept saying they were welcome to stay at his place as long as they wanted. And he hadn’t done a thing to cast any doubt on his sincerity. It was more that Ike still wasn’t comfortable taking charity—not from anyone. He already owed Perry more than he could ever repay. As much as he wished he could get his new friend something special for Christmas, he had no idea what the deputy might need or want.

  The sun was sliding into the hazy sky at the edge of the mountains when Dot arrived. She checked the till and sighed. “Slow day, huh?”

  Ike nodded. “Yeah, seems like everyone has gone to the city today. I served a couple of cars going through town and needing a quick meal, but that was about it.”

  “Well, you can hang around if you want even though you’re now off the clock. Can’t afford to pay you for what I can do. Still, you’re welcome to cook yourself something or have some of the menudo I’m fixin’ to make, seeing as how tomorrow is Sunday. It’s the sovereign hangover cure, you know.”

  Ike had to grin. “Oh, yeah, I remember that from the old days. Ate my share of it on some Sundays way back when.” He studied the floor for a moment and then looked straight at the café owner. “Everything that I get from customers goes into the cash drawer,” he said. “I just wanted to be sure you knew. When I’m cooking and stuff, I don’t take tips.”

  Dot nodded, then gave him a smile. “I know. I wouldn’t have you workin’ here if I didn’t trust you. Yeah, you were in the pen, but that’s over and done. I call you honest until you prove me wrong, and I don’t figure you will.”

  Ike gave a slow nod. “Thanks for that. It’s hard, making a new start and hoping a few folks will have some faith in you. First, it was Perry, and then you and the sheriff. Thank the saints for the three of you.” He fell silent for a few breaths. “Think I’ll head on home, er—over to Perry’s, that is. He’s working split shift tonight. If he gets in early, I’ll fix him something unless he stops here first. If he’s eaten, then I’ll just get breakfast for him in the morning before I go down to clean the jail. I owe him a lot.”

  With that, Ike turned and walked toward the door, followed by Dot’s chuckle. “It’s home, Ike. At least for now and maybe longer.”

  What did she see that he either had missed or was denying to himself? His slip had jolted him. No, this was not home. He didn’t have a home, yet or still. Then his boss’s comment made it much worse. Maybe he needed to move on.

  He was about halfway to Perry’s house when a shiny black SUV with dark tinted windows pulled up beside him. The window on the passenger side slid down an inch. Ike kept walking. Something about the vehicle stood the hair up on the back of his neck. This was not anyone he wanted to talk to or even be seen near.

  “Hey, muchacho, stop right there. Got a message for you.”

  The voice was low, with a faint accent Ike could not quite place. Although it might have been Latino, it didn’t sound quite right. As much as he wanted to flee, he stopped. Hell, there could be a gun pointed at him. Dusk had fallen, and with the tinting, he couldn’t see anything inside the car.

  “You need to move on, get outta here. This is not your turf. And if you’re the one they’re calling El Feo, quit trying to deal in our territory unless you want your clock stopped.”

  Before he could frame a denial, the car sped away, rounded a corner, and vanished. Although he tried to blow it off as a prank, the encounter left him rattled. He was even too shaken to try to get a license number. He stumbled the two blocks to Perry’s house and let himself in by the back door.

  His wish to cook had faded, but he decided being busy might help counteract his sudden case of nerves. Doubts he had managed to hold at bay swept in, blotting out the glimmers of hope that had barely begun to glow. He probably wanted, expected, way too much. Swearing in both English and Spanish, he dragged out a mixing bowl and a big, cast iron frying pan. The little red dog crept close, looking up at him with worried eyes.

  “It’s okay, kid. I ain’t mad at you.” He poured some kibble into the dog’s new dish and added a few scraps he trimmed off the pork steaks he’d started to slice into fajita-sized strips.

  Chapter 5

  Perry got out of the SUV, called Badger, and stomped into Dot’s. She looked up as the door banged shut behind him.

  “Your partner just left ‘bout fifteen minutes ago. Said he was goin’ to go cook something up for you.”

  It was unlike Perry to be either depressed or disgruntled, but
this evening he was both. Just about anything anyone could say right now would hit him wrong.

  “Only partner I got is four-legged and right behind me. Last I checked, she don’t cook.”

  Dot shot a quizzical glance his way. “Oh-kay, whatever you say. Want some coffee?”

  He nodded. “Yeah. Sorry, shouldn’t snap at you. This whole drug thing has got me riled tonight. I dropped a couple of kids from shantytown at the crisis center a few minutes ago. Mother was passed out, prob’ly an OD. Had to call the EMTs for her. Anabelle said she’d had the kids in before. Is this shit ever going to end, or at least get better?”

  Dot’s shoulders twitched. “I don’t know, Perry. With the economy totally hosed and the whole area hurting, probably not. Hell, anyone can make meth in their kitchen now. That damn TV program made it cool.” She brought the coffee and sat down opposite him since the café was empty.

  At first, he thought she was going to pat his hand. Instead, she drew back and sighed. “None of my business, but I’d say you ought to run by the house anyway. Ike’s just trying to show his gratitude. Not everyone would have taken him in like you have, under the circumstances. He’s a decent man. I’d stake my soul on that.”

  “Okay. Just learned I’m on duty until twenty-three hundred—filling in a gap again. I can swing by, though, and let him know, I guess. Tell him to go on to bed. Hell, he’s putting in ten hours or more every day between the jail and here. He don’t need to play housewife for me.”

  He finished the coffee in a few swallows, tossed two bills on the table, and strode out. Even if his mood had not improved much, he’d found renewed tolerance. It was what it was, and he had to deal with it. He had to, and he would.

  Pulling up in front of his house, he left the county vehicle running and told Badger to stand guard. He knew Ike habitually used the back door which meant the front was likely still locked. He walked around the house and went in. Ike stood at the stove, stirring something in Perry’s big fryer, the one he’d kept when Grandma passed away years ago.

  When the lean man wheeled around at the sound of his footsteps, Perry read a tension in Ike’s face along with a relief when he saw it was Perry.

  “I thought you were on duty this evening?”

  “I am. Just stopped by to tell you not to wait up. I may be late. I’m going to try to track down a new dealer in the area. Have you heard of a guy they’re calling El Feo?”

  Ike seemed to go pale under his swarthy skin. “Not until an hour or so ago.” He told Perry about the disturbing encounter. “They—er—you aren’t thinking it’s me, are you?”

  Moving away from the stove, he stepped closer until he was almost in Perry’s space. That was so uncharacteristic Perry recognized at once how troubled the other man was.

  “Nobody thinks I’m dealing, do they? Oh, God, I hope not.”

  Reaching out, Perry put his hands on the other man’s shoulders. “Lord, no, Ike. I sure don’t, and I don’t think anyone else does. You may have been in prison, but that doesn’t make you a hood, a thug. Much less a drug dealer.

  “Yeah, there’s a low level cartel jefe based in this area, answering to a higher one in Las Cruces. Everyone knows that, or almost everyone. And he has minor honchos, at least one or two in every little village. They’ll let the freelancers alone for a while, but if they start getting too big, they’re erased. Four or five small-time hoods have vanished, a couple of the bodies found later. No way to solve the cases, really. They go cold. We haven’t got the manpower to work on them very long. And to be honest, everyone is almost relieved when one pusher is out of the picture.”

  Ike nodded, just a single sharp jerk. “Still, folks know what I am, and they’re suspicious. I can sense it. And this stuff about some dude called El Feo…he worries me.”

  Perry found himself gazing intently into Ike’s dark eyes, absorbing the worry and other nameless emotions churning inside him. Then, before he quite realized what he was going to do, much less why, he hauled Ike closer. He suddenly found his mouth grinding against Ike’s, tasting the spices the other man had used in the dish he was cooking, a hint of coffee and the mint gum he often chewed.

  For a few seconds, Ike kissed back. Then he went tense in Perry’s hold and jerked free with a desperate twist. He took two fast stumbling paces backward, breathing hard.

  Perry almost staggered, shock roaring through him. “Oh, man, I didn’t mean, didn’t expect—oh fuck, I’m sorry. Why in hell did I do that?”

  Ike’s mouth opened and shut a time or two, no words emerging. Finally, he croaked what sounded like, “It’s okay. I mean I—Well, just forget it. It’s all right.”

  “Anyway,” Perry said, turning to head back out, “I’m on duty for two more hours and will prob’ly be late. I’ll see you tomorrow. Maybe I’ll have something on this Feo guy by then. I know you’re no drug pusher.”

  Ike didn’t say anything at all. He turned back to the stove and didn’t glance around once.

  With his back to Ike as he reached for the door, Perry felt a compulsion to explain. “Yeah, I’m gay. I guess I never said, did I? Still, I won’t do anything like that again unless I know you expect it and want it.”

  In Perry’s one fast look before the door shut between them, he got a good view of Ike’s reverse half. Shit, he didn’t think Ike had gained much weight but he had a damn fine ass. Now that he wore jeans that fit, the back view was fine.

  When Perry got back into the idling SUV, he realized his hands were shaking. At first, he wasn’t sure he could control the vehicle. His heart pounded until it felt like it might burst right through his ribs. What in the devil was he thinking of, grabbing Ike like that and kissing him? Within the confines of his dark brown uniform pants, his cock throbbed, so hard it, too, felt about to bust free.

  Despite the flaming arousal roaring through his whole body, he had a sneaking suspicion it wasn’t all about lust. True, he hadn’t been with anyone in quite a while. Maybe that was why he found Ike attractive. However, if he was honest, there was more to it than that. They would have to sit down soon and have a serious talk. Hell, he didn’t even know for sure if Ike was gay. Most guys had a few encounters in prison, at least one or two, but that didn’t mean they liked it, wanted to swing that way once they were free.

  He thought back briefly to his fleeting suspicion that Ike and El Feo could be one and the same. Immediately, he dismissed the notion as unworthy. No, he wasn’t that bad a judge of character. And no fucking way would he be attracted to a drug pusher. Then the radio crackled, a call for a deputy needed halfway across the county. He forced his attention back to business. Alamo County was not paying him to moon over anyone.

  * * * *

  The sky was brightening for dawn before Perry finally got home. There had been a break-in on a remote ranch, almost over to Sierra County. A stove-up old cowboy who was a kind of watchman at the ranch had been badly beaten. Despite that, he was able to give a good description of the two thugs who’d attacked him as well as a general list of what they’d stolen. They must have missed his cell phone. When he came to an hour after they’d left, he was able to use it to call for help.

  Finally, Perry was able to head back. He’d posted a BOLO on the two men and the partial description of the truck they were driving and seen the injured cowboy safely to the nearest hospital. It had been faster and easier to take the man himself than call for an ambulance and try to direct them over the network of dirt roads in the area. Although the old fellow was rawhide tough and protested that he didn’t need medical care, Perry figured he had a concussion and possibly other injuries that should be checked. The guy had finally consented to ride back to town. With the rancher notified and on his way, Perry turned back to Riata, tired to the marrow of his bones.

  Badger curled up in the seat and slept, snoring slightly as she often did. Perry glanced at her and shook his head. He wished he could do the same, but first he had to cover fifty miles of mostly unpaved ranch roads, narrow and winding, dr
opping into arroyos and climbing steep ridges. He couldn’t afford to doze off.

  For the moment, issues about Ike and drug dealers were way on the back burner. Right now he needed to get home and grab some zzzz’s before his brain would function properly again. True, he hadn’t made an inch of progress on El Feo, but that could wait for the next shift.

  * * * *

  At the sound of heavy footsteps on the small back porch, Ike snapped awake. For an instant, he was disoriented, unsure where he was. Then he realized he’d fallen asleep at the kitchen table in Perry’s house. When Perry didn’t get home at the expected time, he’d been unable to sleep. He’d ended up back in the kitchen about four o’clock. Somehow, he had finally dozed off. While he napped, darkness had given way to daybreak.

  The steps were Perry’s. The deputy stumbled into the room, weariness etched in his face and posture.

  “Told you not to wait up,” he said, a growl in his tone.

  Ike nodded but didn’t reply. After a moment, he offered an indirect response. “Made coffee about two, three hours ago. It should still be warm.”

  Perry unbuckled his gear belt and hung it on a hook by the door. Badger padded over and checked her dish. Ike had filled it when he fed Rojo late last evening. She set to work on the kibble. Perry slumped into the nearest chair. “Coffee? Yeah, please.”

  Ike fetched and filled the cup, set it down, and backed away, dropping onto the opposite chair where he’d been sitting. “Long, hard night,” he observed. “Any progress on the dealer stuff?”

  Shaking his head, Perry drew a slow, deep breath. “No. I spent about six hours at a ranch on the far side of the county with a robbery.” He went on to relate the shortest version of the situation that he could. “Deal with the dealers next shift, I guess.”

 

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