“I had the same problem. My grandpa didn’t believe in kids having free time. Work was his answer to everything.”
“Sounds like he and my father would have gotten along beautifully,” she said.
We followed a couple of teenage boys toting an ice chest no doubt full of beer. They had on sunglasses and board shorts and still had tans from the long hot summer. The trail to the river was well worn from years of access. It was just like I remembered it from fifteen years ago, including the accumulation of trash. There were plenty of beer bottles and cans mixed in with potato chip bags and candy wrappers. We stopped when we came to the bluff overlooking the beach.
“So, this is where Mike Bauer’s gonna build his resort?” Kelly asked.
“This is the spot. Gonna be a lot of disappointed high schoolers when that happens.”
There were a couple dozen young people scattered along the river. Some in the water, others stretched out on beach towels. I spotted Owen Bauer sitting in a lawn chair wearing swim trunks and holding a longneck beer. He was surrounded by a couple of guys and a half dozen girls who were laughing it up and having a good time. A boom box was blaring one of those electric guitar country songs driven by a hard bass line. Reminded me a little of ZZ Top.
“There’s Owen,” I said.
“The one with the mirror shades and bushy hair?” Kelly asked.
“He’s a stud.”
Two boys from Owen’s circle stood up when we approached, like they were some kind of security guards. They were tall and filled out with steroid-enhanced muscles but wore peach-fuzz beards that would scrub off with a washcloth. They were identical except one had dark hair and the other was blond. My guess was they were linemen or maybe linebackers. They stopped in front of us about twenty feet from where Owen sat with the girls.
“Private party, man,” the darker one said.
“Coach V know you’re drinking during the season?” I asked.
They both stood up a little straighter, not expecting to hear their coach’s name. “He gave us the beer,” the blond said, making a quick recovery.
His buddy laughed. I got the feeling the blond was used to covering for his friend. The girls around Owen were paying close attention, but Owen was trying his best to look nonchalant.
“No shit?” I said. I knew he was lying. “In that case, how ’bout givin’ an old man a cold one?”
Kelly shot me a curious sideways glance.
I turned my head and winked so the boys couldn’t see.
“Y’all defense or office?” I asked.
They looked at each other as if they weren’t sure.
“I’ll bet you’re both linebackers.”
“That’s right. We’re linebackers, man,” the blond answered.
“No shit? That’s what I played. I played tight end too. We played both sides of the ball in my day. I was on Coach V’s team.”
Both quickly lost the chip on their shoulders.
“You Nick Fischer?” the blond asked, taking a closer look.
“That’s right, son.”
“I seen your picture in the locker room,” the dark-haired one said.
“You boys gonna take care of business this year?” I asked.
“Yes, sir,” they replied in unison.
“How ’bout that beer?”
The dark-haired one beat feet over to the cooler and brought me a Shiner Bock longneck. Kelly cracked a smile but didn’t say anything. I took a step so that I was standing between them. Kelly stayed where she was.
“Hey, Owen,” I yelled over the music. “We need to talk.”
The linebackers looked at each other then back at Owen as if waiting for instructions.
Owen stood up and reluctantly walked over to me.
“We already talked,” Owen said.
“But we left so much unsaid.” I smiled and took a drink of beer. It was cold and tasted good.
Owen stared at me like he had probably stared at most of his teachers during his academic career. I could relate. I had been clueless until I joined the Marine Corps.
“I’ll make this easy for you. We’ll go stand in the shade. I don’t wanna get sunburned. Your friends don’t have to listen.”
“My dad’s gonna nail you for this,” Owen managed to say.
“Whatever. Let’s go. We just wanna talk.”
He studied my scarred face for a moment, then started walking toward the large cottonwood tree about fifty yards upstream. Kelly and I followed.
Owen leaned against the wide trunk and crossed his arms, determined not to tell us anything we wanted to know. I handed my beer to Kelly and snatched the mirror shades from his face.
“I like to see who I’m talking to,” I said.
“Coach V’s gonna hear about this. So’s my father,” he said, still throwing threats.
I turned to Kelly and raised my palms in mock surrender. “Wow, he’s got us now.”
Kelly cocked her eyebrow as a warning to me.
I moved a step closer to Owen. I knew the exertion and my temper made the scars on my forehead turn purple and more pronounced. “I remember when I was a high school football stud. I thought the sun rose and sat in my asshole. When I left town, I figured out I’d been a big fish in a very small pond.”
“I’m a college prospect.”
“Good for you. Let’s start with Lori Kostoch,” I said.
“What about her?”
“I noticed you’re not in mourning,” I said.
“Why should I be?”
“Because she’s dead.”
His lips parted, and his tan skin turned a shade lighter. He hadn’t known. News usually travels fast in a small town. Somehow, news of her death last night hadn’t hit his radar. Maybe Zeller had kept it quiet until after he’d made the call to Lori’s mother. If he did, I’d have to give him credit for being a nice guy.
Owen unfolded his arms and looked at the river water churning downstream thirty yards away. His eyes filled with tears.
“Did you see her or talk to her yesterday?” Kelly asked.
“I—I don’t know anything,” he managed to stutter.
“That’s not what she asked,” I said. “She was strangled with a piece of rope and left naked in my motel room. Tell me if you talked to her.”
“I don’t know nothin’,” he whispered.
“Oh, you know something. I followed you after our last conversation. You went straight to Lori. You met her behind the café. I watched you smack her around.”
“It—it wasn’t like that.”
“Bullshit!” I raised my voice. “I followed you after you left the restaurant. You went to a trailer house on your dad’s ranch and talked to Russell Stevens, aka the Dragon.”
Owen looked down at his feet, hiding his tears.
“The police will get around to questioning you before long. You better have a better story to tell them, or you just might find yourself in jail. I don’t care who your daddy is or how much pull he has. Murder is murder.”
“You got it wrong. I didn’t have anything to do with her murder.”
“Why’d you slap her around?”
Owen stared at his group of friends who had all lost interest in him and were enjoying the cool river water and drinking beer. He seemed to wish he was with them.
“Whatever you’re into, I can help, Owen,” I said, lowering my voice to a friendly level.
“We know about the party,” Kelly said. “Lori told us you asked her to bring Maya.”
“You don’t know this guy,” Owen said, his voice slipping into a raspy whisper, as if someone might be listening. “He’s fucking crazy.”
“Who? The Dragon?”
He nodded.
“Right now, I wanna know where he took Maya.”
“I was just supposed to bring a girl to the party. I swear.”
“What did you get out of it?”
“The Dragon let us part
y here, man.”
I slapped his face with my open palm. The skin on his cheek turned crimson. “Have you done it before?”
“No, man. Only Maya.”
“You picked her ’cause you didn’t think anybody would miss her?”
“Yeah, that’s right. She said she was from Cali. We—we didn’t know she was Mr. Geisler’s granddaughter.”
“You and Lori?”
He nodded.
“So, you used Lori to help you get Maya?” Kelly asked.
“I tried to warn her that he… that the Dragon was dangerous. She didn’t understand.”
“She understands now,” I said.
The tears flowed down his suntanned cheeks. “I’m sorry, man… I…”
“Where’s Maya now?” I asked.
He clenched his jaw.
Kelly grabbed my arm before I could crush his pathetic face. The kid deserved to get the shit kicked out of him, then to get thrown in jail. He was at the center of a murder and a kidnapping, but if he showed up with a shiner at the public school, I would be arrested or tarred and feathered and thrown out of town before lunchtime.
“Talk, Owen, or I’ll turn him loose,” Kelly said. “Tell us what you know.”
“She left with him… with the Dragon. He didn’t force her. She could have left with Lori. She didn’t want to. She wanted to party.”
“Were there drugs involved?” Kelly asked.
Owen looked down at his feet again.
“Were there drugs at the party?” I repeated.
“Yeah. Yeah, everybody was stoned.”
“What was it?”
“Everything, man. Grass, pills, crystal… you name it.”
“Are you dealing that shit to your classmates?” The idea hadn’t dawned on me until that moment. This punk was a high school dealer.
Owen bit his bottom lip, all but admitting his involvement.
I slammed my hand against the cottonwood tree, inches from his face. “You little pissant! You’re supposed to be the captain of the football team.”
“Yeah, so what?” he asked. “I do my job on the field. I’m talkin’ to college coaches. I got a career.”
The kid really didn’t get it. It had only been fifteen years since I’d left the high school gridiron, and the whole concept of high school sports had changed. Owen used the game to give himself celebrity status and a cover for dealing drugs on the side.
“What’re you gonna do?” he asked hopefully.
“We’re gonna find Maya and bring her home.”
“But… are you gonna tell anybody about… about me? I don’t push the shit on anybody. If they want it, they come to me. If they don’t get it from me, they’ll find another supplier.” He had it all worked out.
“Forget about the football season—it’s over for you. Forget the college coaches too. My advice: join the Marine Corps. I did. Best move I ever made.”
Owen started to hyperventilate. “He—he threatened me. It—it was all the Dragon. I—I didn’t have a choice.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. You always have a choice.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Kelly and I left Owen standing under the cottonwood tree by the river. The teen crowd kept their distance from us as we walked toward the bluff. I noticed both linebackers were picking up their empty beer bottles. That was something new from when I was in high school. Maybe there was still hope for their generation. I finished my beer and tossed the empty to the blond linebacker.
“Do you believe him?” Kelly asked.
We retraced our steps along the path that wound through the prickly pear cactus and mesquite brush.
“I think he’s covering his ass.”
“So, what’s next?”
“Keep stirring the pot till the Dragon stew starts to cook.”
“You’re gonna piss a lot of people off.”
“I’m not in this to make friends.”
“Why then?” she asked.
She waited for an answer, but I didn’t have a snappy comeback. I started my pickup and took a last look at the dark-green canopy of cottonwood trees that marked the river’s meandering path. Mike Bauer’s convention center may be good for the local economy, but it would sure mess up a hell of a pretty place in the country.
“Skeeter says you’re an adrenaline junky. Is that it? Do you just like to fight?”
She was searching for answers and analyzing my motivations as if she were checking a section of my resume, trying to decide if I was long-term boyfriend material. We’d said a lot of things over the weekend. We’d made love, held hands, and even talked about the future, but now she wanted to know if I was someone she could hang with for the long haul.
“What do you think?” I asked.
“I think he’s right. I also think you still feel guilty.”
“Guilty for what?”
“For coming home alive. I know you left brothers on the battlefield. If you’re trying to make up for that by putting yourself in danger, it will never work.”
“Maybe finding Maya is just me doin’ a favor for an old family friend?”
“Maybe you’re full of shit,” she said.
We passed the quaint Willkommen to Fredericksburg sign, and a police cruiser lit us up. Officer Zeller was on my bumper with his lights on and siren blaring. I pulled to the side of the road near the liquor store and started to get out of the car. Les beat me to it.
“Stay put, Fischer!” he yelled through my open window. “Put your hands on the wheel.” He was out of breath from jogging to my door.
“Les, what the hell’s wrong with you? Was I speeding?” I asked.
He poked his Pillsbury Doughboy face in the window, close enough that I could smell the cheeseburger with onions he had for lunch. “I just got a call from a very angry parent. He said you assaulted his son by the river.”
I could see my own pissed off reflection in his mirror shades.
“Did Mike call you?” I asked.
“You were trespassing on private property.”
“Come on, Les. Half the high school football team’s down there drinking beer.”
“I’m going to have to take you down to the station.”
“That’s bullshit, Les,” I said. “You know what goes on at the river, and you don’t do anything.”
“Mike hired private security to handle that.”
“Sure, a gangster named the Dragon.”
“Just doing my job, Nick,” he said. a flicker of a smile on his lips. He was enjoying this a little too much. “Step out of the car, please.”
I saw Officer Crowley in the side mirror, approaching at a crouch with his hand on his weapon. I took my phone from the console and looked up Rocky’s number in my contacts. “Call Rocky Velosic.” I showed Kelly the number, and she tapped it into her phone.
“What can he do?” she asked.
“You’re from a small town. You know how much pull the head football coach has. Besides, all those guys were on his team. Tell him what we know and how Owen’s involved. If nothing else, he’ll want to protect his quarterback. If he doesn’t answer the phone, drive over to the stadium. He’s probably watching game film in the field house.”
“Never a dull moment with you.”
She was more concerned than she was letting on. She leaned over the console and kissed me. I took advantage of the move to slip off my ankle holster and slide my .38 pistol under the seat. My .45 was in the console, and I didn’t want either to end up in a police storage locker.
“Okay, Fischer. Let’s go,” Les barked.
I got out of my pickup and glanced at the dozen lookie-loos slowing down to stare at the convict.
“Hands on the hood.” Crowley took a step back, keeping his hand on his pistol.
“You’re gonna cuff me, Les? What the fuck’s wrong with you?”
“Look, Nick. I know you, and I knew your family. But this is my job.”
I put my hands on the hood and looked through the windshield at Kelly. She had a smile on her face. At least she was enjoying herself. I probably should have kept my mouth shut, but just because you’ve known someone for a long time doesn’t make them a good person. He was an asshole in high school, and age hadn’t change him.
“Do you give blowjobs to all the city council members or just Mike Bauer?”
Crowley snickered under his breath.
“You’re such a nice guy, Nick,” Les said.
Officer Crowley slipped on a pair of blue plastic gloves. He was nervous and started to pat me down a little harder than necessary.
“There’s a bandage on my chest. It’s a bullet wound, and it’s sore as hell. If you cause me any pain, I will kick your ass,” I said.
Crowley eased off on the pressure, found my pocketknife in my back pocket and tossed it on the hood.
“He’s clean,” Crowley said.
I put my hands behind my back and let him slip the handcuffs on. He opened the rear door of the cruiser and guided me into the back seat.
I’d been to the local police station many times as a kid when my dad was still alive. The last four years of his life he had been the county sheriff. I used to stop by the station on my way home from football practice. He had even locked me in a holding cell once just to show me what it was like. The closest I’d ever come to actually getting arrested was the summer after he was murdered. Rocky and I thought it’d be fun to tie one of his uncle’s rodeo bulls to the front door of the courthouse. It was Les’s father who had kept me out of trouble and made me work all summer to pay for the new door.
When Zeller pulled into the station parking lot, Rocky was already there, leaning against his pickup.
“Lester, have you lost your marbles?” Rocky shouted.
Les pulled his bulky frame out of the cruiser. “Rocky, you stay out of this. I’m takin’ Nick inside. You can talk to him later if you want.”
Crowley hustled around to open the back door.
“We need to talk, Les,” Rocky said.
Second Chances Page 13