by Sue Hardesty
The Bus Stop at the Last Chance
By
Sue Hardesty
Published by TRP Cookbooks, LLC
The Bus Stop at the Last Chance
Lesbian Fiction: Western Mystery/Romance
Copyright © 2014 by Sue Hardesty
All rights reserved
ISBN: 978-0-9792701-5-4
ISBN: 0-9792701-5-4
Publisher: TRP Cookbooks, LLC,
an Imprint of Teal Ribbon Publications, LLC
Cover Design: Sue Hardesty
[email protected]
Copyright
This work is copyrighted and is licensed only for use by the original purchaser and can be copied to the original purchaser’s electronic device and its memory card for your personal use. Modifying or making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, without limit, including by email, CD, DVD, memory cards, file transfer, paper printout or any other method, constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions.
Dedicated to my spouse, Nel for the amazing life she has given me.
Disclaimer
What is that old saw? Fact is stranger than fiction? I do say this is a work of fiction. Mostly. Names and places are the product of my imagination or are used fictitiously, mostly, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. However, with the exception of the plot line, characters, and some of the places, the stories are based in fact and actually happened to the people I know. They are about life on the Arizona Southwestern desert and, hopefully, they illustrate the difficulty of just surviving in such a harsh and cruel environment. It is what it is, the desert at its best and worst. This book is my talking stick, each desert story a cut on a cactus rib because I was always told that, unless you understand your past, you cannot find your way in the present. And if you know your way in the present, the future will take care of itself. Mostly.
Acknowledgments
To Roxanne Jones, who first published my writings. You are sorely missed. To my best bud Lee Lynch, whose kind nudging inspired me to finish these books. To my dear friend Taylor West who suffered through vetting every page. And most of all, to my editor and wonderful forever partner Nel Ward, who decided I didn’t have enough to do and insisted I write something! Here is the result. Peace.
The Bus Stop at the Last Chance
A Loni Wagner Western Mystery, II
CHAPTER 1
LONI WAGNER LEANED against the side of her police car parked in the shade of an old, tired, salt-bleeding Tamarac tree. As much as she hated the salt eating the paint off her car, she hated the heat more. Both front doors to the police car stood open. Loni hoped the slight breeze would cut the heat for Coco. Her brown standard poodle sat erectly on the car seat, watching anything that moved. The temperature in early October had cooled down several degrees since summer, but the blistering Arizona desert sun still remained relentless.
Tilting her head away from Coco's hot breath panting in her ear, Loni stared up Highway 85 toward Tucson, waiting for the prison bus on its way south. After a short stop to drop off Lola Sanchez's brother Manny in Caliente, the bus would continue on, taking drug runners back to the federales in Sonoita, Mexico. A fleeting look to Loni’s right revealed Lola pacing back and forth under a sign that read “Caliente Bus Stop,” as she impatiently waited for Manny. Below, another sign read “Last Chance Saloon.” Loni knew Lola was over-the-top furious with her because she refused a ride to the bus stop. She also told Loni to forget about their Saturday night date.
Attempting to avoid Lola's fiery temper, Loni stared at the saloon sign, shaking her head at the absurdity of a bus station in a saloon. The original bus stop had been flattened during last summer's freak tornado, but she still couldn't figure out who managed to relocate the stop to the saloon. Dropping in earlier to grab a Coke, she watched customers enjoying their beers. Some might have been waiting for the noon bus that came in an hour after the prison transport. She hoped they would be sober enough to get on the bus.
Loni sneaked another glance at Lola's pacing, worried about having to haul Manny off the bus and throw his sorry ass in jail. Lola’s dark red hair bounced on her shoulders and her grass-green eyes shot fire every time she turned in Loni’s direction. Loni knew she loved her baby brother beyond reason.
Watching Lola’s silky green sundress swirling around her legs made Loni squirm, but she knew better than to stare. With her famous Irish and Mexican temper, and Lola appeared to be in no mood for Loni’s gaze of appreciation. Sighing, Loni took off her Western straw hat and swiped the sweat from her broad forehead onto the sleeve of her shirt as she wondered how long Bobby was willing to cover Lola's dispatch job at the station. She checked her wristwatch once again before she stared up Highway 85. Five more minutes, she thought. I’ll start worrying in five more minutes.
A dot in the distant shimmering heat mirage slowly grew into a rectangle on the quiet stretch of state highway. Loni waited for the rectangle to slow down but it kept moving. Must be a truck, she decided until she watched the bus blow by her, hauling ass. Staring in disbelief, she didn’t snap out of her trance until it had almost disappeared in the distance. Loni shook herself into motion and slammed the door on Coco’s nose. Spinning the car around to follow the bus, she burned rubber as she flew by an angrier Lola fanning away her dust. Loni left her behind as she screamed after the errant bus. Grabbing her mike, she yelled at Bobby for backup as she repeated, “Find Clive. Tell Carl.” Loni was so frantic that she kept dropping her mike.
“Shut up a minute,” Bobby bellowed back at her. “I can’t call them ‘til you shut the fuck up and tell me what's going on.”
“The bus didn't stop!”
“What do you mean the bus didn't stop?”
Loni dropped the mike again in exasperation as she worked to keep control of the shuddering car. Taking a deep breath, she grabbed it again and shouted, "Bobby! What part of ‘bus didn’t stop’ don't you goddamn understand?”
"Okay, I got it! Where are you?"
"Traveling south on 85 just past the last of the houses." Loni dropped her mike again, clutched the steering wheel, and picked up speed. The bus was nowhere to be seen. She left the outskirts of town and flew by the few weathered houses still surviving on the desert flat. As she reached the small hills peppered with the withered cactus and plants from the record-breaking summer heat, Bobby finally got back to her.
“Can’t find Carl yet, James is on a job and isn't answering his phone, and I only found one highway patrolman. Clive's on his way but he can’t get there for awhile cause he’s patrolling up north. I just got off the phone to Tucson. Bus was full of drug dealers they were taken' down to a Mexican prison, part of a gang out of Sonoita. They must have taken over the bus. Tucson said they’d send a helicopter. You copy?”
Loni reached for the mike again, gripping the steering wheel with her other hand to control the violent shimmying. “Get me any help you can,” she hollered. "Lola back yet?"
"Yeah. She just stomped in."
"Tell her to try not to worry." Loni let up on the gas pedal to get more control over the car. As she rounded a steep hill, she spotted a dust trail off to the southwest. She slowed down and turned off onto the dirt road, searching for tire marks. Letting out a big sigh of relief, she spotted the wide tire tracks.
“Hope we’re not wrong,” she said to Coco who cocked her head at her as if to say,
“What’s this WE shit?” Loni sped down the washboard dirt road, coughing from the dust sifting in every minute crack in the car. Coco sneezed, and Loni sympathized between the teeth-jarring potholes. Topping a hill, she caught a glimpse of a gray slash in the tan dust below her. Loni stopped to get the Bluetooth headset out of her cubby hole. She wrapped it around her ear before she got out of her car.
Taking off her sunglasses, she scanned the road as it dropped down into a large, wide wash with the sliver of gray behind a grove of lacy-leaved mesquite trees on the wash bank. “Wow, Coco, look at that!” Loni spoke out loud to the dog. “Think they got stuck in the wash? Or trying to hide in the trees? Reminds me of that desert broomtail horse I had as a kid who thought he was hiding behind a tree, peeking at me from one side as its big ass stuck out the other.” Coco huffed as she listened to something far away.
Loni started to voice-dial Bobby when something popped into the car beside her arm. Diving onto the hot graveled earth, she crawled around to the other side of her car and hid behind it, calling Coco to follow her. “Damn, Bobby. They’re shooting at me.”
“Well, shoot back!”
“I can’t. What if I hit Lola’s brother?”
“Do it anyway,” Bobby fired back at her.
“Tell you what. If I kill her brother, I'll tell her you told me to.”
“But Lola’s the forgiving kind, isn’t she?”
“Not about her sweet baby brother. Where is she anyway?”
“On the phone still trying to get you some help.”
Loni lifted her head just as the windshield glass shattered, spiking shards into her hand. She tried to aim through the open side window. “Damn it, Bobby. They just shot at me again and it hurts!”
“Well then, duck.”
“How far away is that helicopter, anyway?”
“Don’t think it’s in the air yet.”
“I can’t wait that long. I think they’re trying to keep me down so they can get behind me. I gotta move now.” A bullet whizzed by, popping the Bluetooth out of her ear and kicking her head sideways. Loni felt blood run down the side of her neck, and she reached up, trying to stanch the blood. The nick in her ear had a bleeder that wouldn't stop. She backed around the car, still holding onto her ear, and called Coco. The small cactus on the hot, rock-strewn earth made her duck-walk to avoid them until another bullet whizzed by and sent her flat to the ground. The flying bullets made to crawl on her elbows and belly to move higher into the rocky outcrop on top of the hill.
The windows in her car continued to shatter, and Loni cringed, realizing that this was her third demolished car in five months. Carl was going to kill her. Muttering, she slid over hot rocks and sharp needles before she pulled herself into a pile of rocks. Even the thought of getting shot couldn’t keep her from worrying about Carl. The thought that this was the first car she had wrecked since Carl became chief of police and her boss made her half smile. Maybe the other two wouldn't count. Several bullets over her head brought Loni back to the present.
The helicopter blades whirring overhead made Loni sigh in relief. It came in low and passed over her, hovering over her car. She started to stand and wave just as gunfire pierced her car, exploding it into a fireball. What the hell? The helicopter continued on before it dropped down beside the wash. Five men ran to the open door and climbed in as the copter began to lift. Back in the air, it banked to the south toward Mexico and flew low into the horizon.
Loni collapsed and grabbed Coco into a tight hug as she tried to understand what had just happened. She looked down in amazement at the gun still in her hand and holstered it. There’s hadn’t been time to fire even one shot. Jesus Christ. Carl will never believe this one. Coco yelped and tried to wiggle away from Loni's adrenalin-tight hold. Loni wondered if Lola’s brother was one of the five on the helicopter. It was times like this she dearly wished she still had her shoulder mike from her highway patrol days.
Letting go of the squirming dog, Loni stood and shook her head in awe. She forced herself out of the safety of the rocks and circled the burning car. Turning toward the bus, she ran in a zig-zag pattern, afraid to stop until she reached the protection of the trees. Nothing moved. She listened for sounds, anything, but all she heard was Coco’s panting. “Coco,” she signaled the dog. “Hunt.” No way did she want to get ambushed while they waited for the helicopter from Tucson.
The bus had been run off the road into deep sand. She circled around to the back of it, crouched, and slowly moved to the open door. The driver, slumped in his seat, stared at her with filmed eyes. She knew he was dead. Another cop lay unmoving against the door to the unlocked cage behind the driver, blood surrounding the large hole in the back of his head. Behind him a man with his face covered with blood groaned struggled to sit up.
“Manny?”
The man looked up. “God, Loni.” He slumped in relief. “Never thought I’d say this, but I’m glad to see you.”
Loni grabbed a first-aid kit from under the dash and stepped over the dead cop sprawled in the doorway. She dabbed around a bleeding slash across Manny’s forehead with the tail of her shirt before she wrapped gauze around his head like a sweat headband. “Let’s get you out of here,” he told him as she pulled him to his feet. Manny leaned on her as they climbed out of the bus.
Loni left Manny leaning against a bus tire in the shade and moved back through the bus door. As she reached for the radio, she realized it had been shot into oblivion. She climbed back out, settling against a mesquite tree across from Manny. Unrolling more gauze, she took a couple of swipes around her own head and wrapped her ear, hoping to stop the dripping. “Shit, Manny. What’d you do this time?”
“Wasn’t my fault,” Manny leaned into his knees, hands holding his head.
“Never is,” Loni bit back sarcastically. “Just tell me what happened?”
“Well, it wasn’t,” Manny insisted. “I was just having a few beers in this bar waiting for my girlfriend to show up, minding my own business.”
“And?”
“Then her husband Jacob came in and started fussing at me like an old woman, walking back and forth behind me, saying, ‘Who was that sonofabitch that ran off with my wife, Manny. You remember who that was?’” Manny groaned, holding his head. “He kept at it, repeating over and over, 'Come on, Manny. Who was that asshole who ran off with my wife?' Well, I got off my stool to leave peaceable when he grabbed my arm and said, ‘Oh, yeah. I remember now! It was you!’ Then he slugged me and I fell into the side of Sam’s bottle cabinet. Bottles poured down like a waterfall. Everyone of them broke.”
Manny’s expression darkened. “Not a bottle left. Thought for a minute Sam was going to shoot me while Jacob pounded on me, but he threatened to shoot Jacob if he didn't stop, and then he threatened to sue me. Lucky for me he threw me out instead.”
“What were you doing in Tucson?”
“Just told you. Went down to see my girlfriend, is all. I didn’t know Sam really sued me for damages and had me arrested until a Tucson cop showed up at Della’s door.”
“She Jacob’s wife?” Loni asked in a stern voice.
“So?”
“Right. So, what happened on the bus?”
“I'm not sure. I tried to sleep. You know how noisy jails are? Next thing I know I'm holding my head looking at a dead guard and driver.”
Loni had no response. She briefly closed her eyes in exhaustion before she stiffly climbed onto her feet. Hoping to find a cell phone in somebody’s pocket, she went back to the bus. There was one in the driver’s pocket. Mentally apologizing to the dead man, she fished it out and went back outside to call the station.
Lola answered, and Loni panicked. “Lola? Can you...”
Lola interrupted before Loni got out another word. “How's Manny!” she screamed in Loni's ear.
“He's good, Lola. All he has is a small cut over an eye. Can you...”
“Cut! How big?” Lola interrupted again.
“I just told you,
small, Lola.”
“Let me talk to him,” Lola demanded.
“Just a minute.”
“Now!” Lola’s voice was so loud that Loni had to hold the phone away from her ear.
Loni raised her voice. “Listen to me, Lola. We have two dead cops, and you need to send the coroner out here now. And get the crime scene guys from Tucson out here. And it would be good if you sent somebody out to get us.”
Lola went silent several seconds. “Two?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, god.” Lola was quiet a few more seconds. “Wait a minute. Why should I send someone out to get you? What's wrong with your car?” Lola accused. “What'd you do this time?”
Loni rubbed the bumps from breaks on her nose. “You don't want to know.”
“Just don't tell me you wrecked another one?”
“I didn't wreck it!” Loni insisted. “Somebody blew up.”
The silence was deafening before Lola continued. “God, Loni. Wasn't it three last summer?”
“No, it was only two, damn it! How come everybody keeps saying that! And I didn't wreck this one.”
“Okay.” Lola's curiosity must have gotten the better of her. “What really happened to it?”
“I told you. A helicopter blew it to smithereens. By now it's pretty well burned to the ground.”
“So what'd you do? Start World War Three?” Lola sighed. “Clive's on his way. Let me talk to Manny now.”
Loni handed Manny the phone. “Your sister.” She leaned her head back until she heard a siren screaming in the distance. She stood and brushed the sand off her Levis before she walked up the road to wait beside the still burning car.