by Rick Riordan
Page 29
"You fucking better know Im not. "
"Because I could sympathize. It was hard getting Jem here today, too, Mrs. Brandon. You know where he and I were last night? You remember that man I asked you about — the one you didnt know, Hector Mara? He went over to my friends house last night. Good friend of mine — George Berton. The two of them were talking, probably about your husbands murder, when somebody came in and shot them both. "
Ines face had turned chalky. "I dont. . . "
She took a step sideways toward a small live oak tree and steadied herself against the trunk.
"Maras dead," I told her. "My friends not quite — yet. Jem, his mom, and I walked in right after the shootings, stayed at the scene until almost two. "
"What do you want me to say?" Ines asked me harshly. "That Im sorry?"
"Somebody with a . 357 put my friend into a coma. That person is still out there. "
"I didnt ask your friend to get involved, Mr. Navarre. Or you, for that matter. "
"Thats right. Youre right. Forget the shootings are connected to your husbands murder. I dont know why I thought youd care. "
"Dont you dare presume to know what I care about. "
"Look, Ines—"
"Go away, goddamn you. Leave Michael and me alone. "
I pinched the bridge of my nose, tried to remember I didnt have a reason to be arguing with this woman. "I need some help. "
"I dont want any part of it. "
"My guess is that your brother-in-law Del is behind the shootings somehow. He and a heroin dealer named Chich Gutierrez. Youre telling me you wouldnt like a chance to nail Del Brandon?"
"I cant help. "
Mrs. T. rang a handbell. Kids dropped off playground equipment and started forming lines in front of the classroom doors. Jem was in the middle, walking with his fingers pinched to the shirt of the boy in front of him. The teacher glanced uneasily in our direction one more time, then followed her charges inside.
"The kids get out at one-thirty," I told Ines. "What are you doing until then?" She was silent, her lips thin and angry.
"You have other plans?"
"The move—"
"Yeah," I said. "Michaels room. Come with me instead. Help me dredge my car out of the river. "
She stared at me, then laughed uneasily. "What?"
"You heard me. How often do you get an offer like that?"
Her mouth quivered, formed a fragile smile. "I dont even like you. "
"So come watch me be humiliated. Itll be a blast. "
She looked down toward the street, her mouth hardening again. "Would we be even?"
"What?"
"You drove me home from Aarons office Wednesday. If I drive you today, would we be even?"
She held out her hand. I shook it.
"Charm and diplomacy win again," I said.
"That," Ines Brandon said, "and the fact I never want to owe you anything, Mr. Navarre. Never. "
Then she turned and started down the sidewalk toward her car, leaving me to follow or not.
TWENTY-NINE
"At least your VW knew when to quit," Ozzie Gerson said.
We were standing in the drainage channel on the banks of the river, watching the tow-truck guys connect their winch hooks to the carcass of my VW. Ines Brandon sat nearby on the hood of Ozzies police unit.
The VW lay on its back, half submerged, bashed to hell on the passengers side and smeared with toilet paper and river garbage. During the night some adventurous kids had come by and spray-painted PUTA!! in white across the VWs exposed underbelly. Whore. The final indignity to an old, unappreciated
dame.
Up on the rim of the ditch I could see the flattened section of guardrail the Bug had smashed through, the path of destruction it had made rolling down the muddy slope through the bushes. The chaparral Id been thrown into was about thirty feet from the first point of impact on the slope. I was trying to figure out
how Id ended up there in one piece.
"You got lucky. " Ozzies pale blue eyes were cold with anger and frustration. "Luckier than Berton, anyway. "
"You offered to help," I reminded Ozzie. "I need to know where to find Chich Gutierrez. "
The mechanics attached the first hook to the VWs fender and pulled the line tight. Metal groaned. I think maybe I did, too.
Gerson lifted his left arm stiffly, testing the muscles. The bandages under his uniform shirt crinkled. "You sure thats your job — taking revenge?"
"Anything I needed, you said. "
"I dont want you getting killed on my watch, Tres. Your fatherd haunt me forever. "
The tow-truck guys started their winch motor. More groaning metal. The motor bellowed like a wounded sea lion but made no discernible progress getting the VW out of the muck.
"Tell me everything," Ozzie said.
I told him about the SWAT raid at Hector Maras house; the George Berton cigar wrapper in Sandras closet; the white van Id chased down Riverside. I told him, too, about Ray Lozanos read of the crime scene at Palo Blanco.
"George found out something about the Brandon murder," I said. "Something that bothered him enough to try solving it quietly, on his own. He talked to Hector Mara at the Poco Mas on Wednesday. Then he had another meeting with Mara last night. He and Hector were coming to some kind of agreement. I dont know what it was, but George intended to have the case wrapped up with Maras help by the time Erainya and I showed. The guys in the white van didnt let it happen. "
Ozzie moved his arm again, swore softly. "If George was trying to get Hector Mara to sell out Chich Gutierrez, you can bet Chich would get wind of it. Chich wouldve had men shadowing Hector. They wouldve seen him go into Georges house and known it was time to hit. "
We were back where we started. "So where do I find Chich?"
"Leave that to SAPD. You gave them enough to work with, kid. Dont repeat Georges mistakes. "
I looked over at Ines, her arms hugging her chocolate-and-beige coat. The wind coming down the drainage ditch made her red hair flicker.
"Aaron Brandons widow?" Ozzie asked me.
"We met by accident. "
"The lady doesnt belong here. And youre not in any shape to be helping each other. "
"The lady doesnt want any part of the investigation. "
Ozzie nodded, eyes still on Ines. "Shes the smart one, then. You been to see George yet?"
"Im supposed to go this evening. "
"I just called the hospital an hour ago," Ozzie said. "His left lung was removed. "
"Hell make it. "
"A ventilators breathing for his right lung. Hes got a fever from the infection and the antibiotics cant kick it. Hes dying, kid. "
"Hell make it," I repeated.
Ozzie gave me a weary look. "Theres one more thing I thought Id tell you. Im resigning from the department. "
The winch motor cut off. The VW hadnt budged. The tow-truck guys broke out a pack of cigarettes and stared resentfully at the VWs underbelly as they lit up.
"Early retirement for disability," Ozzie continued. "Half pension. " He raised the arm. "The doctors pressuring me about this. Im beginning to think hes got a point. "
"Thats not how you felt yesterday. "
"Yesterday was a long time ago, in a comfortable bed. This thing with George, after me getting shot the same week. . . I started thinking about me and Audrey in Cancun, how we could be there sipping margaritas this time next week. We both got a little money saved up. Its starting to sound real good, kid. Whatd you think old Sheriff Navarre would say?"
"You got an extra seat on the plane?"
Ozzie laughed.
One of the mechanics yelled to him to come help with the cables.
"Idiots shouldve brought a mobile crane," Ozzie grumbled. "When I get this heap of yours out of the river, kid, Im slapping a big-ass ticket on the windshield. "
"There is no windshield. "
Ozzie muttered some more colorful obse
rvations about life, then walked down to the tow truck.
I picked my way downstream to Ines.
"Your friend doesnt like me," she said.
"He likes you fine. He thinks youre the smart one. "
"Really. "
"Sure. Compared to me. "
Ines gazed up at the flattened section of guardrail. In full daylight, the tiny scar on the bridge of her nose was whiter. I found myself wondering how shed broken it, how shed look without that slight bend.
She said, "Mr. Navarre—"
"Tres. "
She paused, seemed to be mentally tasting my name. I guess it didnt taste that good. "Mr. Navarre. Ive already told you. I cant help you. "
"The dead man I told you about, Hector Mara, the fact that he mightve known your brother-in-law Del — that doesnt bother you?"
"Hostia! Everything about my ex-brother-in-law bothers me. Talking about him doesnt help. "
She pulled herself up onto the hood of the police car, crossed her legs at the ankles. Peeking out the tips of her cord sandals were scarlet toenails, with flesh-colored smiles around the cuticles where the nails had started to grow out. I tried to imagine what color Ana DeLeon would paint her toenails. Steel-gray? Black?
I mentally slapped myself. "The first time we spoke, you recognized Hector Maras name. "
Ines fingertip inscribed something in slow cursive on the hood of the car. She stared down resentfully at her own invisible message. "I suppose if I denied that—"
"Id only wonder why you were lying. "
A sour smile. "It would never occur to you that Im lying because I hate you, would it?"
"Never in a million years. "
"I remembered the name," Ines conceded. "Aaron mentioned Hector Mara once, in a phone argument he was having with Del. Months ago, before we moved to San Antonio. I dont remember the context. "
"Did you know Aaron in the spring of 93?"
She scowled. "What does that. . . You mean when Aarons father was killed?"
"Yes. "
She started to ask a question, then apparently changed her mind. Her eyes refocused on the rim of the basin. "Id come up from Del Rio in fall 92. To enroll at Our Lady of the Lake. It was my first semester. "
"Aaron Brandons first semester teaching there. "
"I was in his undergraduate class. We. . . started having a relationship. "
"And Our Lady of the Lake didnt renew his contract. "
"Not because of me. Aaron was struggling. He didnt have any confidence. To tell the truth, he wasnt a very good teacher. Halfway through the spring semester, he knew the university wasnt going to ask him back. Aaron wanted to give up, go crawling back to his father for a job at RideWorks. I couldnt just watch Aaron give up and go back to the family business. I convinced him to stay with his teaching, to take another job for the following year even though it wasnt the best—"
"At Permian Basin. "
She nodded. "In April, I found out I was pregnant with Michael. Thats why we got married. "
"In Laredo?"
One sandaled foot kicked me not-so-gently on the thigh. "What did you do, P. I. — ferret out my marriage certificate?"
