by Leena Clover
“Did you tell Leo how important it is that you talk to them?”
“We did.”
I thought of what we had discussed before.
“Does he have a lawyer?”
“Not yet. The court will appoint one. Until then, he’s staying in.”
“What happens to Charlie Gibson’s house? Does he have any relatives?”
Stan was quiet for a minute. I knew what that meant.
“I’ll look into it. Hey, maybe your grandpa knows something. Why don’t you ask him?”
“I never thought of that.”
Stan hung up without saying much. Leo’s fate was sealed and there was nothing Stan could do about it. Not based on the limited information he had.
Tony sat down next to me.
“Bad news?”
“Leo has no idea where those friends of his are. Or he won’t tell.”
Tony slapped his knee in frustration.
“What’s your role in all this, Meera?”
My cheeks flamed. Was Tony ignoring the obvious?
“Look, when Pappa asked you to help, you didn’t want to get involved. Now you’re calling Becky and Stan every few hours, and exclaiming over anything they say.”
“That’s because what they are telling me is fantastic.”
“That doesn’t answer my question, Meera.”
“Isn’t it obvious? I want to help Leo get out of this mess. Prove he’s innocent.”
“What about being on vacation, enjoying the trip, and all that?”
I pursed my lips in thought.
“We are already on vacation. Look, I know I sounded like I didn’t want any part of this before. Then I met Leo at the memorial service. I could sense how much Charlie’s death affected him. He wasn’t faking it, Tony. He was really grieving.”
“So you want to prove Leo’s innocent or you want to find Charlie’s killer?”
“Aren’t they the same things?”
“We don’t know that right now,” Tony said.
“Okay, I want to find out who harmed Charlie.”
I gave Tony a look that screamed ‘are you happy now?’
A slow smile spread across his face.
“You’re finally getting on the right track.”
I had no clue what he meant. Our time was up and I could see Dad waving at us from across the square. He was clutching plenty of fliers and brochures. Pappa was brandishing another cane.
“Got this at one of those shops,” he crowed. “They are called Santa Fe sticks.”
Pappa likes collecting walking sticks, although he uses only one at a time. He says he needs time to get used to them.
“There’s a restaurant selling authentic New Mexican food just a block away,” Dad said, waving his hand in a direction.
“I’m not walking all the way back to the hotel after dinner,” Pappa protested.
Tony and I promised we would get the car and drive him back. That seemed to mollify him a bit. We walked into an adobo style building with a flat roof. The restaurant was bustling and we had to wait five minutes for a table.
“Should’ve reserved a table,” Pappa glared at me.
These kinds of things fall under my purview.
I ordered chips with guacamole and queso for the table and asked the server to rush it. None of us deal well with hunger.
A huge platter arrived with small bowls of different kinds of salsa, and medium sized bowls filled to the brim with guacamole and queso. The chips were fresh and blue in color.
“What’s this?” Pappa said uncertainly.
“These are blue corn chips,” Sally explained. “They are a specialty of the region. Why don’t you try one, Pappa?”
He shocked everyone by scooping up some guacamole with a chip. Apparently it met his approval, because he began crunching on them noisily. That gave me time to order a round of drinks for everyone. Tony wanted the chili burger and I wanted to try the enchiladas.
“Red or green?” the server asked when I placed the order.
“Excuse me?”
“The sauce,” the server explained. “Do you want the red sauce or the green sauce?”
“Can I get both?”
In for a penny, I figured.
“Christmas,” the server nodded and moved on to the rest of the order.
We were sitting in a courtyard. There were potted plants and urns full of flowers around us. Lights were strung overhead. The weather was cooling down but I was sure the food would warm us up soon enough.
We exclaimed over the food as the server set down our plates. Tony’s burger came with a pile of green chilies on the side. My enchiladas were made with blue tortillas, a first for me. There was a thick layer of Monterey Jack cheese and the red and green sauces. A generous serving of pinto beans and spicy rice was served with the enchiladas. Dad’s burrito had red sauce ladled over it, along with cheese. Smothered, the server had called it. Sally told us that’s how they served burritos in New Mexico.
Sally piled chilies on her burger and bit into it. She closed her eyes in pleasure.
“This is one of the best burgers in the world,” she exclaimed.
I realized she had come there before, probably with her other husband.
We walked over to a place selling chocolate gelato for dessert. Tony and I went back to the hotel to get the car while everyone else waited. I had expected to feel drowsy after the heavy dinner but I was feeling energized.
“You want me to be methodical,” I told Tony as we turned a corner.
“Begin at the beginning,” he said. “Focus on the truth. Don’t start with a theory and try to fit the facts to it.”
“We don’t have a white board with us.”
“So what, Meera? Use pen and paper. We need a logical and systematic approach. Don’t you agree?”
A plan began to take shape in my mind and I felt better. I punched Tony’s arm, and he punched me back. We had almost worked off dinner by the time we reached the hotel. I was ready for the gelato.
Jeet suggested a card game when we got back but the grownups were asleep on their feet.
“We’re going into the mountains tomorrow,” Dad smiled, waving some brochures. “It’s going to be awesome.”
Jeet started dealing cards as soon as we entered our room. I found a small notepad the hotel had provided and began making a list.
“Pay attention, Meera!” Jeet pouted when I missed my turn the third time. “What’re you writing anyway?”
He snatched the pad away from me and his eyes grew wide.
“Dad won’t like this. You promised to stay away from all this.”
“I did no such thing,” I scoffed. “Go to bed, little brother.”
“Aren’t you scared, Meera?” Jeet wondered. “What if someone tries to harm you?”
The thought had crossed my mind. I remembered the close call I had last time. I had got away lightly.
“We’re far away from the scene of the crime,” I pointed out. “And I’m not alone.”
Jeet gave me a queer look and pulled the covers over his head.
Tony had picked up the notepad and he was reading through it.
“Pappa might be able to answer some of these questions. And so can Charlie’s housekeeper.”
“We need to make a list of the people Charlie interacted with. That might give us an idea about the possible motive.”
Tony started writing down names. Leo and the housekeeper were the only people Charlie Gibson dealt with on a regular basis. Then there were people like Sylvie, his neighbors, and people at the bank or library. I would start by talking to Pappa.
“Do you think Pappa’s still up?” I asked Tony.
“Better wait until morning.”
I called Becky and I told her all about Santa Fe.
“I want to talk to this Audrey Jones.”
“Charlie’s housekeeper?” Becky asked. “She rarely comes in here.”
“If I give you a list of questions, can you go and talk to he
r?”
Becky wasn’t too confident about the job. Talking to Audrey on the phone would cost a fortune. Was that my only option?
“Do you have your questions ready?” Becky relented.
“Well, not exactly. It’s just some background on Charlie, you know. What was he like. Who he met on a regular basis, how he got along with his neighbors, was there something different about him last week…”
“I can’t remember all that!”
“It’s the same stuff we asked Mary Beth or Pamela.”
I was referring to people we had come across earlier that year while solving the other two cases.
“Do you think this will get Leo out of jail?”
“I’m doing this to find out who murdered Charlie. If Leo’s innocent, he’ll be fine.”
Chapter 8
I felt like sleeping in the next day since we were just spending time in Santa Fe. The loud banging on the door killed any chance of that.
“We don’t want housekeeping!” Tony yelled in a voice heavy with sleep.
“Didn’t you hang the Do Not Disturb sign on the door?” I hissed.
“Housekeeping doesn’t come knocking at 6 AM,” Jeet scoffed at us.
The banging had continued all this time. The phone trilled next and I snatched it up.
“Yeah?” I said, annoyed.
“Be ready in an hour,” Motee Ba commanded. “Why aren’t you letting your Dad in?”
“That’s Dad at the door? What’s the rush?”
Jeet had opened the door by then and Dad burst in.
“Time to wake up,” he said cheerfully. “We hit the trail in an hour.”
Three blank faces stared at him. Dad sighed and tapped his watch.
“One hour. Outside!”
He turned around and slammed the door on his way out, jarring my senses.
“I thought this was a rest day,” Jeet complained. “What’s with him, anyway?”
The hotel offered a Continental breakfast with the usual cereal and baked goods. Dad had picked out a local café for us.
“Huevos Rancheros!” he announced, licking his lips. “You can’t come to Santa Fe and not try the huevos rancheros, right?”
He looked at Sally for approval and she gave him a wide smile. Everyone got the same order. Tony got some carne asada steak to go with his breakfast. I plunged my fork into the gooey beans, cheese and eggs on a base of fried tortillas. It was all smothered in red sauce. It was hard to tell where the tortillas ended and the beans and cheese started. It all came together in one perfect heavenly bite.
Sally and Motee Ba ordered hot chocolate and it was dark, thick and creamy, laced with plenty of cinnamon. I stuck to my coffee.
Dad sprang up and herded us to the car the moment we had finished eating.
“What’s the rush?” I cribbed. “Aren’t we supposed to take it easy on vacation?”
“The early bird gets the worm,” he said cryptically, and laughed.
We pulled up in front of a large building a few minutes later. A sign announced it to be the Santa Fe Farmer’s Market. A motley group of old guys was playing some music at one side. Farmers and artisans were selling their wares from impromptu stands and tables. There were chilies of all colors. Green chilies ranged from pale yellow to the darkest green. Bottles of fresh made green chili salsa were on display everywhere. Pies and sopapillas were being sold in one corner, perfuming the air with the scent of fried pastry. A lady was selling fresh made tortillas and another counter sold chili seasonings and herbs.
Dad bought a bunch of flowers from a stand and gave them to Sally with a flourish. She turned around, pretending to sniff them, trying to hide her blush. My hand rose spontaneously to make a gagging motion. Motee Ba struck it down.
I grabbed her arm and started walking in the other direction. An old lady offered us samples of goat cheese, and I licked the salty, sharp cheese off my fingers. I almost forgot what I wanted to tell my grandma.
We had come up to a farmer selling dried red chilies. Garlands of red chilies hung from pegs. There were smaller bunches on the table.
“We’re so getting these!” I exclaimed.
“Are these used in the red sauce they make over here?” I asked the middle aged man selling them.
He nodded his head. “These are the Hatch chilies the area is famous for. You can also get the fresh green ones.”
I got a few bundles of the dry red chili to take home with us. I couldn’t resist some of the fresh green chili. I didn’t know how we were going to eat them. Sally appeared with a large bag full of stuff. Dad followed with another bag.
“I am going to find out what happened to Charlie,” I told Motee Ba before the others caught up with us.
She clutched my arm, looking grateful. “Wait till I tell your Pappa.”
“I need to talk to him, Motee Ba. Ask him about Charlie.”
“You can do it today, any time you get a chance. Just let me talk to him first.”
“What about Dad?” I asked, tipping my head toward the car.
He was busy helping Sally stash the new purchases in the back of the car. Dad and Jeet were pushing back our luggage while Sally found space for the farmer’s market purchases.
“You can’t talk in the car,” Motee Ba said, catching on. “We’ll think of something. And we can talk in our room later tonight.”
Pappa called out to us just then, tapping his cane. He was getting impatient. Everyone got in and Dad took the wheel.
“We are taking the high road,” he proclaimed.
All pairs of eyes stared at him.
“No, really, we are taking the high road to Taos. But we have to make a pit stop first.”
He stopped outside a super market and signaled Tony to follow him. Jeet followed them inside.
“So you’re going to help me get justice for my friend?” Pappa asked me.
Motee Ba must have managed to whisper something to him. I looked at Sally.
“Your mother won’t say anything, Meera.”
I gave Motee Ba a look. She must have missed all those secret looks flying between Dad and Sally. I wasn’t so sure she wouldn’t tattle against me. But I didn’t have much of a choice.
“I want to get some background on Charlie. When can we talk, Pappa?”
Dad and the boys came back lugging more bags. We had to place these by our feet. Pappa whispered something in my ear and I nodded. I picked up one of Dad’s brochures and skimmed through them.
“Are we going to these waterfalls?” I asked.
“That’s our first stop,” Dad said eagerly. “The Nambe pueblo. We are going to the base of the Sangre De Cristo mountains.”
He looked at Jeet. “You up for a little hike?”
“What about Pappa?” I asked. “Can he manage this trail?”
Pappa declared he wasn’t up to any strenuous activity.
“I’ve always wanted to see a pueblo,” Motee Ba told him. “It says the trail is less than a quarter mile.”
“But I don’t want to go Hansa!” Pappa said with some force.
“I can stay with Pappa,” I said. “You can all go ahead.”
“You want to miss this after coming all the way here?” Dad exclaimed.
I shrugged.
Truth be told, someone would have to keep Pappa company whenever we did something like this. We would all have to take turns.
“I won’t do it every time,” I warned.
I mentally congratulated myself on being smart. We reached the pueblo and everyone got down.
“You can stay in sight of the car and look around,” Dad mused. “Pappa should be okay with that.”
“I’m fine, Dad,” I said, trying to put some sass in my voice.
Dad shrugged and they set off to see the waterfall.
I stood on the ground with the car door open, letting fresh air in. Pappa wanted a drink. I handed him one and placed a shawl on his knees.
“Fire away, Meera,” he said, sipping his juice.
> “What can you tell me about Charlie?”
“He was my friend. But he kept everyone at a distance.”
“Did he argue with people a lot?”
“Not exactly.”
Pappa paused, giving it some thought.
“He was polite enough, but there was something missing. As if he was being forced to do something.”
“You mean like blackmail?”
“No, Meera,” Pappa sighed. “As if his heart wasn’t in it.”
“So he was cold, you mean.”
Pappa nodded uncertainly.
“That’s why we were all surprised when he brought that boy home.”
“Leo? Where did he meet him? Is he a distant relation?”
“Not as far as I know. Charlie said he was getting on. And he wanted to share whatever he had with someone who needed it.”
“So what, he just picked the first random kid he came across?”
“He didn’t want to talk about it,” Pappa explained. “He made it very clear. Anything about Leo was off limits.”
“But why?”
“How should I know?” Pappa asked.
“Was he rich?”
“He lived well. But he wasn’t rolling in money.”
“So you don’t think anyone would kill him for money?”
Pappa looked disturbed.
“I have seen people bludgeoned to death for a few shillings, Meera. Need is relative. Your coffee money can feed a poor family in India for a month.”
This is one of Pappa’s pet theories. He really frowns upon the money I spend in coffee shops. I forced myself to ignore it. It was more important to focus on the job at hand.
“What about Charlie’s family? Did he have any kids?”
“His wife died before we came to Swan Creek,” Pappa said. “They didn’t have children.”
“Who’s getting his things now that he’s gone? Did he ever talk about a will?”
“Charlie believed in being prepared. Everything was to be sold and the proceeds were to be donated to his favorite charity. But lately…”
Pappa paused to take a sip of his juice. He sucked the straw until there was a gurgling sound and the box crumpled.
“Got any more of this?”
“You can drink water if you’re still thirsty, Pappa.”
His lip curled into an expression of disgust. I could hear Jeet and Tony talking. It sounded like they were coming back.
