Broken Lullaby

by Tracy, Pamela

  “Have you looked on the reservation for the twins?” Ruth asked.

  “Only if a pediatrician reported a new client with twins in the last couple of months.”

  “Sam wondered. He’s thinking about visiting some relatives, asking a few questions,” Ruth said.

  “Okay. Sounds good. I’m taking my shower, checking on Mary, then heading to Wickenburg and the ATV dealerships.”

  For the first time that morning, Ruth smiled. “Checking on Mary, huh?”

  “Yes,” Mitch said curtly. “You have a problem with that?”

  “No, I’d just think you’d be checking on your crime scene, checking on Alma, but checking on Mary…sounds like you have a personal interest.”

  “Well, I—”

  He looked sheepishly at the two people who seemed to know him all too well.

  “Oh, go get dressed,” Ruth teased. “You’ll look silly visiting the doctors in your pajamas.”

  Their laughter followed him down the hall and to the shower.

  They weren’t, however, laughing when he exited.

  “Mary called,” Ruth said.

  He should have gone home to shower, checked on her first, made sure—

  As if realizing his thoughts, Ruth held up a hand. “No, everything’s fine. But, you were right. There’s always something missed. Guess what we missed yesterday?”

  “What?”

  “Evidently it’s Justin who is missing something. What, we’re not sure. Seems Mary caught him tearing through his drawers, looking frantic.”

  “What was he looking for?” Mitch asked.

  “When she questioned him, he told her he was looking for a pair of socks.”

  “And?”

  “Mitch, eleven-year-old boys don’t frantically search for socks. Justin’s a poor liar. When Mary pressed him, he ran out of the house.”

  “Did you notice anything odd about his room yesterday?”

  “Sure I did. I noticed that Justin’s still living out of the boxes he packed in Florida. Everything looked all right. And whatever he’s missing, Justin didn’t even notice it until this morning.”

  So much for Justin and Mary sharing everything. It looked like Justin had a secret he needed to share with them all.

  Mary had jogged about half a mile down Prospector’s Way, looking right and left and still no sign of Justin. She never jogged after seven. It was too hot.

  Justin didn’t want to tell her what was missing. Okay, she could deal with that. He was almost a teenager. Soon he wouldn’t tell her anything.

  Still, what if the secret he was keeping had to do with that Raoul character breaking in? What if Raoul had targeted Justin, not Mary?

  Even in the heat, Mary’s blood ran cold.

  She took a drink of water, turned and looked back at the cabin. Rico and Alma were tiny figures on the porch, sitting in the rockers.

  She stopped, bent over, hands on her knees as she tried to catch her breath. It was too hot to run. Probably too hot to walk, but there was no way she intended to crawl.

  Been there, done that, didn’t get the T-shirt.

  In the distance an engine roared to life. She slowly straightened and then turned. A cloud of dust rose from the ATV that was taking off from Mitch’s house and heading off road across the desert. A prickle of suspicion tapped her on the shoulder.

  She should have headed up the road to Mitch’s instead of down the road to Carl’s.

  Mitch was at Eric’s, so it wasn’t him revving up that engine.

  The prickle turned into a full body slug of mother’s intuition.

  Before Mary could take off toward Mitch’s, the sound of a car’s motor overpowered the sound of the ATV. Mitch was slowly driving up Prospector’s Way.

  Mary ran toward Mitch’s car.

  He smiled when he saw her, slowed down, then frowned when he saw the expression on her face. She grabbed the passenger side door before he came to a stop, opened it and jumped in.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Head toward your place. I’m not sure what’s up, but that’s where Rico is heading.”

  Mitch didn’t waste time. Three minutes later, they were out of the car. Mitch checked his garage, and sure enough, his quad was gone. Justin knew where he kept the key. Mitch pulled out his cell phone, called the Broken Bones jail and then called George. He was closest; he had ATVs. The hunt was about to be begin.

  Mary looked down at her cabin. Alma stood alone on the porch. Rico ran through the desert shrubbery, unmindful of the heat that had stayed Mary, following the tracks left by Mitch’s ATV.

  Justin was gone.

  Mitch finally hung up. “George Anderson’s on his way. He’ll meet us at your cabin.”

  That’s all she needed to hear. Mary raced down the path to her cabin with Mitch on her heels. Her tennis shoes hit the dirt—pound, pound, pound—and this time she didn’t notice the heat, the sweat or the sun that beat down on the top of her head. She was way too busy trying to figure out what Justin was doing, thinking. She hurried up the cabin’s front stairs. Alma waited there, pacing, her lips moving in such a way that Mary knew Alma was once again petitioning God.

  Whatever Justin was hiding, Mary thought, it was serious. Even with the adrenaline surging through her body, Mary managed to halt next to Alma. Looking in the girl’s eyes, Mary saw understanding.

  “Keep praying,” Mary urged. “I—we—need all the prayers we can get.”

  What on earth could Justin be hiding? And how long had he been hiding it? Could he have kept something from her for three years? Surely not! This was something new, within the last two weeks. She raced up the stairs and into Justin’s room, coming to a sudden stop with Mitch right behind her.

  The room looked the same: unmade bed, boxes that lined a path to the closet. His iPod lay on the top of the dresser. Mary walked over, picked it up, turned it on and put the earbuds in her ears. Rock music filled her head.

  Mitch dropped to his hands and knees to look under the bed. “Shoes,” he announced. Next he went to the closet. “Empty.” He circled the room while Mary opened every drawer. They were all empty. Finally, she went to the boxes and quickly started taking Justin’s clothes out. “Everything’s here. He packed by himself, but I was right there. He didn’t put anything extra in.”

  “Then whatever Raoul took had to be small. He didn’t have any of your possessions on him, which means either he didn’t take anything or he tossed it during his escape attempt.”

  “Rico walked the side of the cabin and the road this morning, twice,” Alma said. “He did not find anything.”

  Mitch clenched his fists and slowly turned in a full circle looking at the bareness of the eleven-year-old’s room. “Okay, tell me, what possessions are new since you’ve arrived here?”

  So far, Mary had purchased food, some pictures for the wall, the armoire…but all those were for her. For Justin, she’d…“We bought gold-mining stuff in Wickenburg two days ago.”

  “Where is it?”

  Mary shrugged. “When we got home, he unloaded the car and came up here.”

  “Do you see it?” Mitch asked. “Where could it be?”

  “It’s not here.” Before Mary could say anything else, Alma spoke up. “Justin showed it to me yesterday. He kept it in the closet.”

  The now-empty closet.

  “Mary, you—”

  Mary didn’t get to hear the rest of Mitch’s command. Outside, George Anderson arrived with three ATVs. He rode one, one of the ranch hands from yesterday rode one and Carl rode one. Mary went right for Carl.

  “Carl, what has Justin told you about the mining camp and the guy he met the other day?”

  Carl looked at his feet. Oh, Mary knew eleven-and twelve-year-olds. Carl wanted to say nothing, but because his father was standing next to him, he really couldn’t.

  “Son,” George Anderson urged.

  “We went up to the gold camp on the horses. It was neat, Dad. And the guy there gave Justin money.�
��

  “What?” Mary felt her knees weaken. “Why did he give Justin money?”

  “They seemed to know each other.”

  “His name,” Mitch encouraged.

  Carl looked around. It was the look of a kid wishing for escape. The only sympathy he saw was from Alma. Other than that, Carl had his father, Mitch, Mary and two ranch hands all crowding him, expecting an answer.

  “Carl,” Mitch said. “Justin is missing. He stole my ATV and went into the desert. We’re not sure he has water or how far he’s going.”

  “I went into the desert without enough water and nearly died,” Alma stated softly.

  Carl squirmed.

  “What was his name, son?” George Anderson asked in a no-nonsense voice but with a gentle hand on Carl’s shoulder.

  “Justin called him Kenny.”

  NINETEEN

  When Mitch checked on the possibility of a helicopter to help scan the area, it sounded like it might be doable. The name Kenny Santellis spurred action.

  That took Mitch to the next problem. Three ATVs. One, of course, was for him—never mind how the one-hundred-degree-plus temperature would feel on his head wound. The second quad would go to George Anderson. He knew the layout of the land, and though Eric was on his way, it was still an hour’s drive. Mary was already circling the third ATV with a look of ownership. Every step she took shouted anger, fear and the need to do something.

  “You ever ridden one?” Mitch asked her.

  “No.”

  “I need you to stay here then, listen for the phone, tell the cops who are on their way everything you know.”

  “Ma’am,” George said. “It’s going to be hot, dirty and maybe dangerous out there. When we find Justin, we want to bring him back to a mother who can take care of him—not one who needs to be taken care of.”

  “If you don’t take me, I will follow on foot. I am going after my son.”

  “Ma’am,” this time it was Michael Rains, the ranch hand Mitch liked, the one who had helped him yesterday. “I know this land and I’m armed. We’ll get your boy back.”

  “You’ll have to tie me up, then, because I will follow on foot.”

  “But,” George started to say.

  “No buts. I know my brother—you don’t. If it is my brother Kenny and something is going on, believe me, I’m the one who needs to talk to him.”

  Mitch felt the first stirrings of doubt. While he had not studied Kenny’s history in a long time, there were a few things that he remembered. Kenny, the youngest, had always been considered a loose cannon, excitable, easily distracted.

  His arrest and prison records indicated he had a temper, but got over things quickly. He was rumored to be the risk taker in the family. He also had the best sense of humor. One of Mitch’s peers said arresting Kenny when he was in a good mood was like a comedy club routine and arresting Kenny while he was in a bad mood was like arresting Mike Tyson in the middle of a fight that wasn’t going his way.

  What mood was Kenny in today?

  “I’m going,” Mary said again.

  “Okay,” Mitch said. “You can come to the gold camp with us, but get off the quad. We’ll go in my car. First, run in the house and get a picture of Justin. One of Kenny, too, if you have it.”

  Mary ran. She took the front steps two at a time, breezed past Alma and disappeared. Good. Mitch wasn’t quite ready to leave yet. From the corner of his eye, he saw Rico heading back to the cabin. He also watched as Carl nervously bit his lip. The boy was pressed against his father and trying to act tough.

  Mitch recognized it as an act.

  “Carl,” Mitch said, “Do you have any idea what Justin was hiding from his mother? What was taken from his bedroom yesterday?”

  Carl looked at his dad.

  George nodded.

  “Justin had a cell phone that Kenny had given him.”

  Mary chose that moment to exit the cabin. “What?” She stumbled on the stairs. “When? Last week when they met up and Kenny showed him how to pan for gold? How many times have they met?”

  Carl backed away, and Mitch whispered, “Down girl.”

  “I—”

  “—need to let the boy speak.”

  “I’m sorry, Mrs. Graham. I’m not supposed to tell, and Kenny seemed like such a nice guy. He let me shake one of his pans and said I found a good amount of black sand.”

  “Did Kenny give Justin the cell phone that day?” Mitch asked.

  “No, Justin said he’d had it for a couple of years. He was supposed to call Kenny if there was ever trouble.”

  “Oh, my,” Mary whispered.

  “It’s okay, Mrs. Graham. Justin said he hardly ever had to use it. He only called his uncle every time you moved and every time he missed his dad.”

  Her voice was so low, Mitch almost didn’t hear her mutter, “Well, that explains why Justin didn’t talk to me about Eddie. He didn’t need to. He had Kenny.”

  Mitch got on the phone and called the Broken Bones jail. Raoul was still cooling his heels in one of their cells and the two cell phones they’d taken from him yesterday were still bagged. Mitch had the deputy look at both phones’ history. The first cell phone was a prepaid. No help there. The second cell phone, though, proved more helpful. There was no history of calls coming in. And every call out was to the same number.

  Mitch wrote down the number and dialed.

  No answer.

  “Rico,” Mitch called as the young officer finally made it to the porch. “You up to heading out again?”

  Dripping sweat, red in the face and holding onto his side, Rico couldn’t get enough voice back to answer out loud so he nodded. Alma ran for water.

  Mitch turned to George. “The tracks lead out into the desert, but I’m thinking Justin headed for the gold camp. Mary and I will head there in my car. You take the quads, follow the tracks. Let’s make sure Justin didn’t wreck or get sidetracked. Rico will go with you. I’ll keep in touch and join you if necessary.”

  George continued to be a man of few words. He simply nodded at Mitch before calling his wife to come get Carl and Alma.

  Mitch checked to see what Alma was doing. Praying. No doubt she was thanking God that Mitch was on the case. One thing for sure, his final case was his most unusual, most civilian-involving and most humanizing.

  Without saying anything else, George hopped on his quad and led the way. Michael and Rico followed while Mitch and Mary hopped in his car.

  Glancing at his passenger, Mitch noted that she was pressing her right foot to the ground. Too bad the invisible gas pedal wasn’t working. “Mary,” he started, trying to choose his words very carefully. Yesterday, he’d mentioned Patrick Wagner for shock value and had been disappointed. Today, he wasn’t going for shock value. Today, he wanted to see Mary and her son reunited. “Is there any chance that Kenny and Roberto Herrara have crossed paths?”

  She stopped tapping her fingers on the door handle. The foot pushing the invisible pedal stilled. “You said that Roberto Herrara’s been committing crimes in this area awhile. Well, so has Kenny.”

  He nodded, not a bit surprised, then hesitated, wondering if maybe he should call and ask Eric these questions. But Mary was right here, she’d hear his end of the conversation. Plus, every moment counted. He forged ahead. “Is there any chance Kenny would order a prison hit on Eddie?”

  Her mouth opened. No words came out.

  What had happened those months ago when Eddie was in prison? She and Justin had just settled in Florida. Justin seemed happy. She’d immersed herself in homeschooling and making a home. She’d been a bit frustrated, yes. She was a thirtysomething woman who didn’t dare apply for a decent job, open a bank account or even use a charge card because she didn’t want to leave a paper trail.

  “What are you thinking?” Mitch asked.

  “That’s usually my line,” Mary quipped, then started to cry. “I’m thinking that yes, I have the kind of little brother who would order a hit on Justin’s father
. I’m thinking there’s probably no way that Roberto and Kenny could have missed each other. I’m thinking my little brother Kenny is also the type of man who would give Justin a cell phone and tell him to call for emergencies. And I’m thinking Justin is probably heading for Kenny now.”

  “Why would Kenny order a hit on Eddie all those years after you and he separated?”

  “We’ll have to ask him when we see him.” Mary stared out the window at the Bradshaw mountains at the base of Rich Hill, where the gold camp was located. The little town of Tucker was everything a living ghost town should be, complete with an opera house. Justin would not remember, but Mary had taken him here when he was just a year old. There was a little store, and the gold camp had flavor Mary had wanted to explore.

  Justin had eaten dirt and scraped his knee.

  Mitch parked and then came around to let Mary out. She would have already been out if it weren’t for a sudden desire to drag her feet.

  Kenny may be thirty now, but he was still her kid brother. Though if he was involved with Roberto Herrara, he deserved everything coming to him, but she still didn’t want to be the one to hand him the noose.

  It was just ten, not early by gold panner’s standards. They’d probably been out at first light, air vacs in hand, pans to the ready and a thirst for riches. The office’s door was closed. Air-conditioning was a necessity nowadays even for those who considered themselves roughing it. Mitch pushed open the door and Mary followed him in.

  The man behind the desk appeared ageless and if dressed differently could be mistaken for Santa Claus. His hands were gnarled, but his eyes danced, especially when they lit on Mary. “You wanting to rent a space? You picked the right time. No one comes in August.”

  “We don’t need a space. We’re looking for some people. Mary, show him the pictures.”

  From her purse, Mary first took out Justin’s picture. The office manager shook his head. “I know all the kids and most of their friends. He’s not been around here that I’ve seen.”