by Gale Borger
"He lies about fish too," floated up from the crowded diner.
Alejandro smiled and leaned forward. "To tell you the truth, I haven't been fishing in quite a while. I'm originally from Arizona. I'm just passing through on this trip. I told a friend I would pass a message on to the sheriff for him when I stopped here. Could you tell me where to find him?"
Sal looked over his shoulder at the clock. It was 7:40.
"J.J. usually stops in around eight unless he gets a call. Lately the bad guys have been keeping him pretty busy, so if he doesn't come in, I'll give you directions to the office."
Alejandro also looked at the clock. "Well, if you don't mind, I'll have another cup of coffee and wait."
"Be my guest, amigo. Stay as long as you like." Sal whistled the Chicago Bears Fight Song as he began the next order.
Alejandro sipped his coffee and listened to the friendly banter between Sal and Donna. Snippets of conversation reached him as the ebb and flow of people talking swirled around him. He suddenly sat up when he heard the name 'Carole', and then 'Graff'. He tried to concentrate on the voices behind him.
"…don't know what Buzz…Carole's body…coroner"
Oh my God. Body? Does that mean she is dead? Alejandro leaned in the direction of the conversation.
"…Not a teacher. He's…BI…out there."
"BI out there." What did that mean? That the FBI was involved, or did he hear that in a different conversation? Perhaps if he turned in his chair, he could see who was talking. He turned on his stool, sipping his coffee.
Sitting near him were two little old ladies having coffee and dessert.
"No, Joy, I'll get the check. I know you're tapped out. When Carole Graff up and died, she took the Broussard Family Fortune with her."
"Who knows if I'll need that missing money some day?"
Alejandro froze. Did Carole Graff steal money too? Maybe he should look in that bubble envelope before he turned it over to the sheriff. He listened some more.
"That money-grabbing hussy. How dare she make off with your life savings?"
"Gerry Miller, there is no need for sarcasm. If Carole had settled her debts in a timely manner, she wouldn't have died owing everyone money!"
"Joy, for the last time, she owed you a couple bucks for some cantaloupe, which, may I remind you, you volunteered to buy! It was not like Carole knew she was going to croak. She was murdered."
Ohhh, shit–murdered. Alejandro turned back toward the counter and tried to think. Now what was he to do? Should he go to the sheriff or not? Would they think he killed that lady and arrest him? He had to think. Alejandro reached into his pocket to shove some bills on the counter, but was saved from having to make the decision to contact the sheriff when Sal yelled across the diner.
"Morning, J.J. There's someone here wants to talk to you."
Alejandro sank back onto his stool as Sheriff Green walked through the now silent diner to the counter. J.J. sat on the stool next to Alejandro and winked at Amy when a full coffee cup appeared at his elbow.
He held out his hand to Alejandro, the crow's feet at the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiled. His open and friendly demeanor and casual greeting did much to put Alejandro at ease.
"J.J. Green. How'r ya doin'?"
"Alejandro Montoya. I'm fine, thank you."
"New Mexico?"
"Close. Arizona."
J.J. sighed. "Story of my life. Close but no cigar. I'm usually pretty good at accents, though. So, Alejandro Montoya, what brings you to our little burg?"
"Well, first, I am to bring you greetings from two police officers I met from Mundelein in Illinois."
"Ha! That would be Olsen and Ballard. I can imagine what kind of message those two sent. We all went through the academy together in Champaign a lifetime ago. Don't tell me; fish fry and doughnuts?" Alejandro nodded his head. "Figures, they have no imagination. So where did you run into those two flatfoots?"
"Well, Sheriff Green, to tell you that is to tell you my whole story. I believe you would not want it told in front of half the town." He leaned forward and lowered his voice. "I think it has to do with Mrs. Carole Graff."
J.J. eyed him for a full 15 seconds, then stood. "If you're ready then, let's go back to the office and we'll talk." Amy handed J.J. a Styrofoam container. J.J. sighed happily.
"Amy, you are a gift from God."
She giggled, "That's what I keep telling Sal. Maybe you should tell him too!"
"Hey, Sal! You got a keeper here," J.J. yelled across the diner as he paid for his breakfast.
Sal looked up and grinned. "Don't I know it! See you J.J.. Come again, Alejandro. Go Bears!"
"GO BEARS," half the diner responded as they exited.
Alejandro was still shaking his head in wonder over his experience in the little diner when he reached his truck. By mutual consent, Alejandro followed J.J. to his office. Once there, he retrieved the bubble wrap envelope and his courage, and walked into J.J.'s office.
J.J. was on the phone, but signaled for Alejandro to have a seat. Alejandro looked around the spartan office and heard J.J. say, "Okay, Buzz, we'll see you in a minute."
Alejandro lifted his brows in question. "Buzz?"
"Buzz Miller, do you know her?"
"I heard a lady by the name of Gerry argue with her friend in the diner and the name Buzz was mentioned in conjunction with Carole Graff. Listening to those ladies is how I came to think Carole Graff might be dead. Is she?"
J.J. looked at the younger man across from him. He sat on the edge of his chair, clutching an envelope in his hand. His wide eyes and frightened demeanor told J.J. there were no nefarious reasons for his questions. If Alejandro Montoya was involved in this mess, it was on the periphery or as a pawn; he'd stake his job on it.
"Okay, Alejandro, let's take this from the top. Before we get further into this, I need to tell you that I am going to record our interview. This is a criminal investigation, and I need to keep my facts straight." He picked up the small recorder and spoke into it.
"November Four, Two Thousand Seven, Nine Eleven A.M. James J. Green, Sheriff. In regard to the homicide investigation of Carol Graff, interview with Montoya, Alejandro, Male, Hispanic D.O.B…" He looked at Alejandro.
"Eleven, Eleven, Seventy Four."
J.J. continued. "November 11, 1974. Mr. Montoya, what is your stake in this? How did you become acquainted with Carole Graff?"
Alejandro looked at the envelope in his hand and slowly pushed it across the desk toward J.J. He picked it up and looked at the address. He raised an eyebrow and gave Alejandro an assessing look.
"You see, Sheriff Green, I am a horse trainer for Eduardo Martinez from the Mexican state of Coahuila. I brought five mares up from Mexico to the Appaloosa World Championships in Dallas/Fort Worth last Tuesday."
Alejandro had recounted his story from the time they left the ranchero until the point where he unloaded the mares and Dr. Huerta disappeared, when there was a knock on the door.
Before J.J. could say, "Come in," a huge ginning bear bounded through the door, straight to J.J.'s lap, followed by an ugly little bulldog, a middle aged woman with glasses and flyaway graying hair (that would be me), another, younger woman, pretty, dark blonde and looking angry, a man about the same age, nice suit, looked wealthy, wearing a tense expression, and the little old lady named Gerry he'd seen] in the diner.
* * *
J.J. flipped off the recorder and calmly said, "Hey, Buzz, what's with the circus?"
I grinned. "Circus? You got that right. Complete with dancing bears," I pointed to Wes, who was spinning and grinning, "and fire breathers!" I pointed to Mag, who was still pissed.
Mom piped up, "Don't forget the clowns." She laughed as she pointed to the three deputies who poked their heads through the door. Moe, Larry, and Curly gave her injured looks and backed out, closing the door again. With everyone talking at once, it was hard to hear anyone.
J.J. yelled his favorite line from Cool Hand Luke. "What
we have here, Buzz, is a failure to communicate!" He straightened from his desk and tried to look stern and official.
"Buzz, I asked you to come down here because you're heading up this investigation. What I didn't ask for, no offense Miz Miller, was your mom, and your sister. Dr. Connor…I assume you are here at Buzz's request, though I'll be damned if I know why."
He held his hands out, palms down. "Now I don't want anyone taking offense, but–" Everyone promptly began talking at once. Alejandro looked scared. Wesley walked up and shook doggy slime on him. Alejandro looked as if he was waiting for us to come to blows, or for the sheriff to start shooting. The other deputies should have heard the noise and come barreling in, but they wisely stayed away.
Hands flying, dogs barking, people shouting to be heard over the others. Alejandro looked overwhelmed and ready to bolt out the door. I figured a little order was needed. I put my index fingers to my lips and let out an ear-splitting whistle, compliments of one of my dad's important childhood lessons.
"Yo, everyone–knock it off!"
Even the dogs shut up.
"J.J., to answer your questions, Mag is working on the case with me and she should be in on everything. Turns out our friend Dr. Connor isn't just a plant biologist at the university. His day job is working for the FBI." Jaws dropped, and heads turned in his direction.
"Mom saw us when she and Joy came out of the diner and followed us over. She wouldn't take no for an answer, so I thought maybe you could threaten her with obstruction, disorderly conduct, or something. Wes and Hilary are just a bonus."
Wesley licked J.J.'s hand and placed his head on his arm, gazing up adoringly at him. J.J. sighed, rubbing his ears.
"If you will all excuse me for a moment?" He eyeballed Ian and said, "You, Mr. FBI-Let's-Not-Tell-the-Local-Sheriff-I'm-in-Town, follow me.
"You," pointing to Alejandro, "Stay put. You," pointing at Mom, "Go home or I'll call Bill to come get you."
He jerked a thumb in my direction. "Buzz, you're with me. Mag, meet Alejandro. Alejandro, meet Mag. Stay here–both of you."
With that he stomped out of the room. Clenching his jaw, Ian followed. I shrugged my shoulders at Mag and in sign language said, 'later'. All that angry testosterone was pretty intimidating and I trailed far behind both of them.
18
J.J. had a full head of steam going. He bulldozed his way past dispatch down the hall to the break room. One look cleared everyone out, and J.J. slammed the door. He calmly crossed the room and poured himself a cup of coffee. He plunked himself down in a plastic chair, put his feet up on the table, and crossed his arms over his belly. He narrowed his eyes and sent an evil look toward Ian.
"So who are you really and what are you doing down here?"
Ian strolled over to the coffee pot and picked up a Styrofoam cup. He filled it and turned, hoisting himself up onto the counter. He set the coffee down next to him and leaned forward, folding his hands between his legs. I stood there looking stupid.
"J.J.," I began. He immediately held up his hand.
"Buzz, if you please, first things first. Let me get this out of the way, and don't start making excuses. I'll deal with you next."
I slid into a chair like a whipped pup and waited for Ian to start.
"Sheriff Green, I'm Ian Connor. I am a forensic botanist for the FBI, Milwaukee Field Office. I do occasional work for the State Crime Lab and for the university. A friend of mine over at the crime lab called me to ask for help, but since this might be connected to another case the FBI is involved in, I had orders to remain undercover until I found out who the players were down here, and if this case could possibly be connected to the other."
J.J. looked at him for a long moment. "Why didn't you use our local lab at the morgue if you needed a lab? Why run off with the evidence to Keokuk or wherever you took it?"
"I had to use the Milwaukee labs because they had the software I needed. I have a couple of findings I know you'll be interested in hearing about.
"Sheriff Green, I am not one of those asshole Fed guys who comes onto a scene and throws his weight around. I want to–no, I need–to work with you and your people on this. We're meeting at Mag's house for an update after we're through here."
J.J gave me an 'I don't get it' look, so I jumped into the conversation.
"Yeah, J.J. We're grilling out and we have everything from salads to desserts. We can all get fat and solve a crime together."
J.J. winced. "As long as your mother made the brownies and Mag didn't cook at all." Ian held his stomach and made gakking noises.
"It's Chez Buzz all the way–well, Wesley helped a little, but you can hardly tell."
J.J. straightened up and headed for the door. "Okay. I'm in. Right now let's go see if your sister performed her Mag-ic on our star witness, or if she drove him over the edge." He turned to me and grabbed the front of my shirt. He jerked me forward and got in my face. "Don't think I've forgotten about your stunt from the other night. We still have a date to talk about it. I'll call you–then I'll yell at you." He let me go and stalked away.
I saluted him with my middle finger. "O-Tay Mr. Sherwiff. I'll be waiting by the phone until you call. Pant, pant."
"I heard that, Smartass," he said, as he barreled into his office and slammed the door.
We followed him in, Mom was gone, and Mag had already begun the interview. She stopped Alejandro and turned off the recorder. She looked up and smiled.
"Great timing, folks. Alejandro needs a bathroom break and I'm thirsty. Grab a seat and we'll get right back at it."
She gestured to J.J.'s office as she whisked out the door like she'd been interviewing subjects all her life. J.J. turned to me and pointed at the door.
"Okay, who is that, and what has she done with your sister?"
I was still staring after Mag, somewhat bewildered. "I don't know, J.J., but something sure is different. Hey, Ian, didn't we lose the old Mag somewhere back at the drug lab?"
J.J. loomed over me. "Are you telling me that Mag was at the Graff's place with you? Are you out of your frigging mind? She could have been killed, Buzz; then where would you be?"
He whirled on Ian. "And you! You're supposed to be a professional! Where in that fancy FBI handbook does it say it's okay to take a Biology teacher on a shootout with some very bad men?" He threw up his hands and stalked toward his desk. He collapsed in his chair and rubbed his hand back and forth across his brow. "Wait. Hold on a minute. We'll deal with this later. I need Montoya's story right now."
He glared at me. "I'll just add this to my list of grievances for tomorrow's pow-wow."
He crossed his arms and spun his chair so he faced the window. One could almost see the green smoke coming out of his ears. Ian stood and made as if he were going to confront him. I grabbed his arm, shook my head and mouthed, 'later'. We all turned at the sound of the door knob rattling.
Mag reentered the room, oblivious to the tirade that had just occurred. Alejandro followed behind her, and took his seat. Mag picked up the recorder, hesitated. She looked at the recorder and then held it out to J.J. "I'm sorry, J.J. I didn't want to butt in, but Alejandro wanted to tell his story. I thought I would record it so he didn't have to repeat it again."
J.J. held up his hands. "No, Mag, that's just fine. You started, you finish. You talk Alejandro through it and we'll see if I have to have him explain further. I'll be right here if you get stuck."
Mag shrugged her shoulders and grinned sheepishly. She turned on the recorder and set it on the table near Alejandro. She took a deep breath.
"Mr. Montoya, your last statement before we took a break was," she consulted the paper in front of her, 'And then I ran out of the tack room and saw blood all over the stall'.
Alejandro looked at her with tears in his eyes. She put a calming hand on his arm and said, "Take your time, Alejandro. This must be very painful for you."
He nodded and drew in a shaky breath. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.
"Yes, I ran out of the tack room and saw my Princesa thrashing in the stall, screaming in agony."
He continued his grisly tale. For the next two hours, we sat transfixed by the gruesome and shocking events that eventually led him to Sal's diner and the meeting with J.J. His voice died with the last of his narrative. His look touched each of us as the silence in the room lingered.
Ian was the first to comment. "Wow. Drugs inside the mares. Does that not beat all?"
I was beside myself. "Those rotten, no good rat-bastards! Can you imagine what would happen to those poor horses if one of those bricks came open…OH MY GOD!"
They all stared at me. One by one it hit each of them. Alejandro sat for a second with a stricken look on his face. He jumped up out of his chair and shouted as he streaked toward the door, "I need my cell phone! Oh my God! I have to call Texas!" He ran to his truck and ripped the cell phone out of its charger. He frantically searched his address book and punched Donny Ray's number. He reached the voice mailbox, and near hysteria, left a message. "Donny Ray, Montoya here. Check that sample for drugs. Illegal drugs! I know that is what killed the mare, and that is why they stole the body before you could autopsy! Call me as soon as you can, and be careful. If they find out you know, I think they will come for you." He also read J.J.'s number off the business card he had taken from the lobby. He flipped the phone shut and slumped against the truck door.
J.J. put an arm around his shoulders and steered him back to his office. He sat silently in the chair and stared straight ahead. We were all silent, trying to put it all into perspective.
J.J.'s voice was like cannon fire in the stillness of the room. "Well, that about wraps it up for now, folks. It's getting on toward afternoon and we should call it quits for today. Alejandro, what kind of plans did you have for the next few days?"
Alejandro started and looked thoughtful. "Actually, I was hoping to stay around a while. I had thoughts of looking for a new job if I liked it here, and I do. I certainly cannot go home."