Out of a Texas Night

by Phyliss Miranda

  “I don’t spend a lot of time around them, but what seems out of order? I can always find out from my sister,” Brody said.

  He glanced across the table. Avery’s eyebrows knitted together, and she gave him a questioning look. It was apparent that she didn’t realize his sister and brother-in-law owned the Ol’ Hickory Inn, but then she didn’t eat meat, so she probably had never even shown her face inside the cafe—not to mention the fact they’d moved their operation to Kasota Springs from Amarillo only a few years back.

  Brody knew he frowned at his thoughts but couldn’t help himself. He was digging as fast as he could through a pile of information that seemed insurmountable.

  But what about Deuce’s file about Tommy, if he’d had time to write up notes?

  There should have been handwritten information inside about Deuce interrogating Tommy Mitchell. Regular protocol would call for writing up such notes. Deuce surely had put in the fact that Tommy was related, although not by blood, to a member of the sheriff’s department. On the other hand, with what had gone on that night, it was certainly possible he had written up the notes but never made it to the file before he left to get some fresh air.

  Brody rubbed his chin and felt a breath-taking tightness in his chest. He stared at the ground and his thoughts froze in his brain. Lifting his head, he watched the highway traffic. His mind raced, searching for answers that would be acceptable to Avery.

  A thought finally seeped through: If that were the case, why hadn’t Chief Deputy Scott logged in the notes after the search had concluded and he went back to the office?

  Or maybe Danny had been too busy taking over and pounding his chest like Brody had just done trying to be Tarzan, making sure everyone knew the county was in good hands—his hands. Take care of minuscule things like case notes would not have been his priority.

  Vicky went on, “Are you listening, Brody?”

  “Oh yeah, I’m right with you.”

  “All in all I’ve been a believable Lot Lizard, but of course my price is too high or the timing inconvenient for the drivers. I make sure of that.” She laughed good-naturedly. “There’s one tractor-trailer that perplexes me, and the driver stays away from me like I’ve got the plague. He drives for what appears a legit company, ABC Smith and Jones out of California. Transports mostly food supplier products, along with some things from a furniture company coming out of Mexico. Everything has been checked out, but the driver always parks far away from the café, gets his order to go, and almost races back to his cab.”

  “No co-driver?” Brody asked. “And the officers in Laredo or any of the places the rig could be entering the US are very thorough at confiscating drugs coming out of Mexico.”

  “They are.” She bit on her lip. “The dude stands around, eats, and drinks his coffee. I’ve gone out to talk to him, but he brushes me away with a story about being married, although he doesn’t wear a ring. Nobody around seems to even know his name. He’s there generally on Thursday.” Vic took a deep breath, then continued, “Somewhere between twenty minutes after he eats, but sometimes over an hour, an unmarked white van parks on the other side of his trailer and the big rig driver pulls out a number of boxes with the same logo as on the side of the trailer from his load and transfers them to the van. At first I thought it was just a driver ripping off his company, but they never exchange any money that I could see. The driver of the white van seems to make an effort to stay in the shadows, out of sight.” She took a drink of water from a plastic bottle. “I have more in the car, if you’d like some?”

  Avery and Brody shook their heads and thanked her.

  The break gave Brody a chance to ask a couple of questions. “Vic, how about license plates? Are they always the same? And the Permanent Trailer ID?”

  “Always muddied up. Looks like the truck drove through a pasture full of bull....” She looked over at Avery and said, “Bull manure, or a wet cotton field.”

  “It’s okay to say bullshit. I’m from here and remember dancing to the ‘Cotton-Eyed Joe,’ one of the best line-dance songs ever written,” Avery said.

  All three laughed.

  Vicky took another swig of water. “I’m surprised the guys who patrol the interstate haven’t stopped him for the corroded plates, which makes me believe he messes them up before he stops at the Kasota Truck Stop and cleans them up before he gets back on I-40. When the van gets there, it seems that another person, not always the same, distracts me about being a Lot Lizard, wanting directions, or something that keeps me from getting a view of the license plate or which way the van goes. There are no owner signs or anything to connect the van to any business. He must drive some back route to the southeast or I’d see him. If I ever get where I could get a good view of the van’s plates, they are also messed up and I can never see enough of the driver to even tell you more than he’s Caucasian, relatively tall, and middle-aged, I’d say.”

  Believing he’d have his answers to the question he and Vicky had been working on, Brody felt frustrated and had no idea where to turn, but it’d hail volcanic rocks in the Panhandle before he’d admit it to anyone but himself.

  “Vic, if you think of anything else, you have my number, and the only other person in this county who knows who you are is Avery, so you can contact her through the department if I’m not available. Thanks for coming and I’ll make sure the boss lady here gets your contact information.” He hugged Vicky, and she extended her hand to Avery.

  Avery stepped forward and gave Vicky a hug. “I look forward to working with you.”

  “Me, too.” Vicky waved. She scurried to her car, looked around her, got in, and drove back to the west, likely Amarillo.

  “Let’s get out of here.” Brody noticed Avery shivering, and he removed his cowboy-cut jacket and put it over her shoulders. He couldn’t turn down the opportunity to keep his arms around her longer than he should.

  Part of his confidential informant’s report fell into place like a good line dance. Other parts unsettled Brody to the point of frustration and added more questions than answers.

  When they got near the car, Avery tossed him the keys. “You drive. I think the realization of what I’ve gotten myself into just hit me. We may be a small town, but there is a lot to digest when it comes to crime.” She tightened his jacket around her. “And I thought Houston was bad.”

  “I know you’re tired, so just close your eyes and we’ll be at your folks’ house in no time.” Brody didn’t have a chance to open the passenger door for her.

  “No. I have things to work on.” She pulled the seat belt on and laid her head on the neck rest.

  He couldn’t be certain if she was fighting sleep or trying to figure out the same things he had on his mind.... Like how in the world did she not know about Tommy.

  “Just drop me off at the office. I have some things we discovered today that are really bothering me. I know I won’t sleep thinking about them. You can leave my car in the drive and drop the keys in the mailbox, unless there’s a light on in the kitchen; then you can give them to Jennie.”

  “Need some help? I’ve got probably a lot of the same questions,” Brody asked.

  “Sure. How about changing cars first?”

  Brody wasn’t certain her “sure” was a positive “sure, I need your help” or “sure, I’m fixin’ to kick your ass from the Panhandle to the Gulf of Mexico and back for not telling me that Tommy is a relative”—but then how could she have read the whole file and not known it? He’d been working under the assumption she knew about his family connections from the official file, although neither of them had mentioned it.

  He’d even made sure his unofficial investigation information was left in Scott’s desk to cover himself, in the event Mesa or Granny Johnson decided to file charges on Tommy for trespassing. Brody had even gone to the extent of mailing a copy to himself for protection.

  The trip back to
the Humphrey house gave Brody time to give more thought to a few specific pieces of intel Vicky had given them. Add on the information he and Avery learned at the Jacks Bluff, and they now had more loose ends than a weaver without a loom.

  Right now one of his biggest questions lay heavy on Brody’s mind. Why in the blue blazes would a semi-truck coming out of Laredo on the Mexican border going to Dallas not use I-35 North directly to Dallas, or even if the driver had other stops, why bypass I-10 and I-20 and go out of his way to run on I-40?

  The coffee wasn’t that good at the Kasota Truck Stop!

  Chapter 18

  Beneath a full Strawberry Moon of June, Brody drove into the back parking lot of the courthouse. He didn’t slow down enough going through the street’s gutter, and Avery came fully alert.

  “Wow.” She straightened upright. “Did our street department lift the curb while we were gone?

  They shared a deep jovial laugh and got out of the car.

  Brody rang the night bell to the rear entrance of the sheriff’s department.

  Thelma Crawford unlatched the door and greeted them. “I didn’t anticipate seeing you all back tonight. It’s so quiet I can even hear the gnats hit on the windows.”

  “That’s the kind of night we wish we could have all of the time, but unfortunately, that isn’t the way it works,” Brody said. He placed his hand lightly in the middle of Avery’s back, as any gentleman would.

  The interim sheriff added, “Thelma, since Raylynn will come on duty as dispatcher shortly, why don’t you go on home?”

  “No. I’m fine, plus I need the hours.”

  “You’ll get paid for your whole shift,” Avery assured her. “Plus we plan on working for quite a while, and if a call comes in before Raylynn arrives, we can take it. There’s really no problem, so please go home.”

  Brody interceded, “That way we can raid your goody boxes.” He smiled at her. “You have no idea how much we appreciate you getting snacks for the department.”

  Thelma returned the smile. “Collecting coupons is one of my hobbies, and I’m glad to get us some snacks.” She picked up her purse and thanked them before she exited through the back door with Brody by her side.

  Preparing himself to face his boss, Brody walked back in and followed the scent of fresh coffee grounds to Avery’s office.

  He stood at the door watching Avery put grounds in the filter to start coffee. Her hotpot steamed, no doubt in preparation for her tea. Guess she anticipated he’d stick around long enough to drink a whole carafe of coffee.

  Looking up, she quietly said, “I’m gonna add an extra scoop since it’s so late. We need the caffeine.” She added more coffee and pushed start before turning to him. “Okay, we promised no lies. So, I’ll admit, I lost track because I was thinking about everything that went on today.”

  “Thanks. Now I have to ask, Sheriff Humphrey, do I sit down so we can talk or lean over to make it easier for you to kick my ass?”

  When she didn’t respond immediately, Brody took his badge from his inside pocket and removed his service revolver from the holster. He put them in the middle of her desk, where she had butcher paper with colored sticky notes all over it.

  “I guess I have my answer,” he said before he turned toward her door.

  “Although I like the kick in the ass idea, we have work to do, so until I fill in the gaps and make sure the case isn’t compromised, please don’t pull that stunt about taking off your gun and badge. That’s only done in movies and on television. I have a lot of questions. The least important right now is Tommy Mitchell, although you should have told me from the start he was part of your family. At the moment, you are the only person in this department that I totally trust.”

  Brody found the muscles in his neck and arms turning rigid, and his posture stiffened, while a heavy sensation hit his stomach. He knew this was not the end of the subject, but he had to think through his fuzzy thoughts and keep his mind on whatever kind of weird drawing or map of events she had on the table.

  Before she changed her mind, he quickly put his Glock in his holster and his badge back where it belonged.

  She spoke first. “I should have asked more questions, and I presume that you figured I knew your family or at least the information was in the case notes.” Avery looked up at him with confidence that he’d not seen before. She touched her fingers together, forming a steeple, and flexed them. “Am I wrong or are the notes?”

  “Both.” He half sat and half stood, learning on the edge of her desk. “I presumed the information was in the file, and since you were born and raised here, I figured someone—especially Danny Scott—would have told you that Tommy was related to me. I would have advised you, if I’d known you didn’t have all the facts.”

  “That’s why I trust you, Brody. Either I wasn’t given all of the notes, or the evidence file isn’t complete, which is a huge problem. And it would have had to have been before anybody knew I got the job.” She looked up at him, obviously waiting on his response.

  “Definitely left out. Scott brought Tommy in after picking him up near where Deuce was eventually located. This was after the call from the Jacks Bluff that someone was seen in the veterinarian’s treatment area,” Brody added.

  “That’s in the notes, but between that information and the search for Deuce is totally blank, as if it had never existed.” Avery pointed to a blank area on the timeline.

  Avery continued, “You know what...we’ve had more information and misinformation dumped on us today than probably what the garbage men left at the landfill. So, how about we fix our drinks, talk a while and then head for home? Begin all over again tomorrow. Whatcha think?” Avery lifted herself out of her chair, stepped over to the coffee pot, and poured him a hefty mug of the hot liquid. “No sugar, as I recall.”

  “That’s right, and going home sounds good to me. My mind is fuzzy.” He accepted the cup. “Where’s your tea?”

  “Right here.” She sat back down and put her cup on the desk. “Orange and Spice Decaf Herbal Tea.”

  Raylynn lightly knocked on the door and stuck her head in. “I’m here. Thelma called and said she was leaving a tad early, so since I was ready I came on in. You need anything?”

  “Thanks, Raylynn, I appreciate you, but I think we’re in good shape.”

  “Fresh coffee is made,” Avery said. “Thanks but I brought something from home.” She closed the door.

  Brody took a big swig of coffee, and he thought its strength was about to knock him over. He swallowed then said, “That’ll sure put lead in my pencil.” He felt his face turning red, and it wasn’t from the heat of the coffee either. He should have never said anything as uncouth to his boss.

  “Well, then you’ll be prepared to write a letter tonight.” She smiled at him and raised a questioning yet quizzical eyebrow.

  Quickly, Brody changed the subject to avoid any further embarrassment. “Let’s get out of here. It’s been a long day for both of us.”

  “Frankly, I have to agree with you. I didn’t realize exactly how tired I was until I sat down and sorta relaxed.” She walked to the counter and turned off the coffee pot. Picking up her purse with a silver Star of Texas on the side, she asked, “Ready?”

  “Just about.” Out of courtesy, he took another swallow of coffee. “And to help you out from now on, I’ll make the coffee.”

  Only moments later, Brody pulled into the Humphreys’ driveway and turned off the engine. “Wake up, you sleepyhead, you’re home.”

  Without a response, he gently touched her arm and unbuckled her seatbelt. Avery leaned into his shoulder and rested her head. He shook her again with no reaction, so he gingerly lifted her head back on the neck rest and got out. “You can go into a deep sleep faster than anyone I know,” he whispered.

  Avery woke long enough to get out of the car with his help and mumble an apology.


  The backdoor leading to the mudroom was open, so he held her tighter around the waist. She laid her head on his shoulder and he helped her up the stairs.

  The screen door flew open and a woman came rushing out. Although she wasn’t much over five feet tall, she slipped her arm around the other side of Avery’s waist.

  “I’ve never known Dannie to drink. Not even in her college days,” the woman said then continued, “I’m Jennie, the family housemaid. You’re Deputy VanZant, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I’d shake your hand, but Avery is kinda in the way,” he replied to the attractive, middle-aged woman.

  “Thank you for taking care of her. Is she sick?” Jennie used her right hand and lifted Avery’s chin. “She looks exhausted. I knew this job wouldn’t be good for her. I just knew it, after everything she has been through.” They left the kitchen and headed toward the staircase. “Her room is upstairs, second on the right. I just knew it was too much, after....”

  “Ma’am, she isn’t sick or even had anything to drink. I don’t know what time she got up, but she was in the office when I got there and it’s really late. We’ve had a long, hard day. After her swearing-in, we immediately began working on cases then drove over and saw Deuce, so she’s been on her feet for hours. She’s exhausted is all.”

  “And, she was up early and said she was going into the office and get ready for her swearing-in. And, even for her, it was early-thirty,” Jennie said.

  They entered a bedroom of white lace and embroidery just like he had imagined after she described her mother’s disappointment. Her words “a room fitting for a cute little debutante in a tutu” came back to him.

  Jennie and Brody got Avery to the bed and he held her upright while the maid removed his jacket from Avery and pulled back the covers.

  “Thank you so much, Deputy Van—”

  “Please call me Brody.”

  As they laid Avery on the bed the strangest thoughts came to Brody. Something he hadn’t thought about for years—Cinderella and how many times he’d read it to Winnie in order to get her to sleep, particular after they lost their father to a drunk driver while he was on duty as a Texas Ranger. Then their mother took to her room, too sick to take care of her four-year-old daughter and twelve-year-old son. But those were memories he tried to push to the back of his mind. If it hadn’t been for his father’s death in the line of duty, and football, he would have probably never bonded with Deuce Cowan, who had lost his Denton County sheriff father in the same manner.