Bus Stop at the Last Chance (Loni Wagner Western Mystery Book 2)

by Sue Hardesty

  “Well, he thinks you're gosh golly swell yourself.”

  Liv gave a short shout for a laugh. “Bet those were his exact words, too.” The dimples in Loni's cheeks deepen as Liv smiled back. “Bet you don't work undercover much with those dimples. Too distinctive.”

  “No problem,” Loni said, dropping her grin. “I don't smile much. So what's the plan?”

  A crooked grin appeared on Liv's face as she sarcastically answered, “Find drugs?”

  “There is that,” Loni said thoughtfully. “Though I did think you might have already started.”

  “Not really.” Liv shrugged. “We have no idea. Drugs are all over the place, but nothing big like you're looking for. We’ve scoured this country looking for the Caliente source.”

  “Yeah, Tully did say the federales were undercover here and never found anything either. Not like we're looking for.”

  Liv nodded. “Only place we have left to check out is the Cabeza Prieta National Wildlife Preserve. We're headed there now.”

  Loni looked confused. “Why didn't we meet up there?”

  “We wanted to look once more across the Colorado River area before we head north.”

  A sudden bang against the bathroom wall jarred both of them. Liv opened the door and stepped out into a tall, skinny man wheeling a dolly toward the back door. “Sorry, bud.”

  Loni jumped back, ducking back behind the bathroom door. “Shit!” She whispered. “I know that driver. That's Dirk Flavo with the Thursday grocery delivery truck.”

  “What?”

  “The truck. It comes to Caliente on Thursdays,” Loni said impatiently.

  “So? If it's a delivery, how come they're loading on instead of off?”

  “Ask him!”

  Liv yelled at the guy as she peered out the back door. “Whatcha loading?”

  The driver slid the back door down and locked it before he answered. “Bad batch of flour.”

  “Looks like you’re about empty. Where's your next stop?”

  “Caliente.” Not looking around, Dirk climbed into the cab, started the truck, and turned north at a high speed.

  Liv stepped out the door waving and hollering to the back of the truck, “Have a good trip.”

  Hurrying outside behind Liv, Loni watched the truck disappear. It was covered with so much dust she couldn't tell the color for sure, but it looked black. Shrugging, Loni followed Liv back around to the bikes and watched her climb on a purple chopper.

  “Well? You coming?” Liv demanded. Loni winced at the loud noise when Liv gunned the engine on her bike.

  Loni nodded toward her own bike. “I don't know how to race this thing.”

  “We're done racing. Time to head toward the refuge.”

  The idea of getting back on the bike and traveling back across the Colorado basin did not appeal to Loni. “Think I'll just meet you there.”

  “Sorry? Meet us where?

  Loni thought a minute. “How about Tule Tank.”

  “I don't understand. I thought you were supposed to work with us.”

  “Well, the basin's full of salt cedar, and I'm allergic.”

  “That sounds like a lot of bull crap.”

  Loni shrugged. “That's my story and I'm sticking to it.”

  Liv snorted. “I take it you didn't care for your trip across the basin?”

  Loni rubbed her butt and grinned. “Nope.”

  “How you getting there?” Liv quizzed.

  “I'll call Tully. He can come get me and drop me at the Cabeza turnoff.”

  Liv released her kickstand. “Why didn't you ride with your Thursday Caliente truck? He could've taken your sorry ass all the way home.

  “Thought about it.”

  “Well, shit!” Liv spun silt all over Loni as she disappeared in a cloud of dust.

  CHAPTER 14

  LONI CRESTED A HILL and looked down into a desolate valley shaped like an oval platter. A sad-looking lopsided windmill missing several blades slowly turned in the hot breeze. Next to the windmill was a metal tank with a cement basin at one end for animals to water, and beyond it a barbed-wire fence stretched over to a roofless one-room adobe shack. Sparse greasewoods, barrel, and prickly pear cactus spread over the hills. It was the blue flag sticking a good twenty feet in the air that interested Loni. Clean water.

  At mid-afternoon Loni arrived at Tule Tank. She was ready for quiet after the incessant noise of the chopper. Leaving it in the shade of the shack, she walked over to the barrel and took off her helmet, filled it half full of water, and dumped it on her head.

  “Wasting water. Shame!”

  Loni jumped and swung around, finding herself facing a huge man with a long, bushy, flaming red beard. She hoped that was a smile on his face. His eyes crinkled before he let out a roaring laugh. Red hair as thick as a pelt curled out and about his shirtless bib overalls.

  “Shit, dude! You scared me.” Loni's heart pounded.

  “Meant to.” He flung back. “Hate to see water wasted out here.”

  “You belong to Humane Border group?”

  The man slowly shook his head. “What's that?”

  “People who placed these water barrels and those poles with that blue flag on top.” Loni pointed.

  “Yeah? I wondered where the drinking water came from. They got a club for backpackers?”

  “No. They’re the good guys trying to keep people crossing the Mexican border alive. Especially undocumented workers.”

  The man stared at the flag. “I wondered. Many of these around?”

  “Over a hundred last I heard. The project's got people leaving water and food along regular routes the undocumented take.” Loni frowned. “Sometimes ranchers fed up with travelers trashing their property, empty the barrels or move the flag.” She gave a short laugh. “On the other side, the ranchers trying to help have to be careful and not get caught. I heard one rancher got arrested for putting water out.”

  “Never know who the good guys are, huh?” Red gave Loni a hard look. “Even more of a reason to not waste water.” He pointed at a tall tank next to the windmill. “Tank’s empty but the windmill’s working. Sort of. There's some water in a basin over there to pour on your head.”

  “I don't think so,” Loni defended herself. “There's a body in it.”

  The skin Loni could see around the man's eyes turned pale. “Come on.” He said in a half laugh. “You're kidding.”

  “Nope. Met the man who found him. Said he was floating in the water blown up like a balloon so he left him to it.”

  “Eeuuu. eeuuu, sick, sick, sick!” The big man shivered. “I took a bath in it!”

  Loni had to laugh to see such a bear of a man use feminine words. “So. You camping here?”

  “Not anymore.”

  “You alone?” Loni asked.

  “Aren't we all?”

  Loni snorted. “I mean is anyone with you?”

  “Why? You going to beat me up and rob me?”

  Loni grinned. “I'm really beginning to like you.”

  Reaching over to shake Loni's hand, his eyes crinkled again. “All the girls tell me that. Call me Red.”

  “Why?”

  “You must be color blind.”

  Laughing, Loni shook his hand. “I'm Loni.”

  “So, Loni, how'd a woman alone get out here on a cycle and not get knocked in the head a time or two?”

  “Rode up washes at night?”

  “That's stupid. You think nobody in the middle of the night could hear you on that thing?” Not waiting for an answer, Red continued. “Lucky you got a full moon or you'd be dumped on your ass out there. Can't see shit without it.” He looked her bike over. “Sand bike, huh? You part of those racers across the border?”

  “Was. Heading for home now. I'm taking a shortcut.”

  Crossing his arms, Red stared at Loni a few seconds. “You running drugs?”

  “No.” Loni grinned. “Search me if you want.” Loni turned around to get a drink. She filled up the cup
she found hanging on the side of the water barrel and turned back to Red. “I got my clothes folded up neat in my saddle bags so don't mess them up.”

  “Nah. You really racing or are you a cop?”

  Loni shrugged. “Cops stay away from the flags. They don't want people to die either.”

  “Our cops? Arizona cops? You serious?” Red shook his head. “I spent a few days over at the Charlie Bell tank,” Red pointed off to the north. “Watched border patrollers take an axe to the spigot. Left the flag.”

  “I know, Red, but have faith. Some of them care.”

  “I don't want to get in a fight with you, but where the hell you been lately? Our crazy politicians reward cops for kicking immigrants around like a pile of horse shit.”

  “That good?”

  “Not reason enough for you?

  Loni laughed a short burst and crossed her arms, leaning against the tank. “My granddad says we never really grow up. Most of us just learn how to hide our sickness in public." Studying the big man, Loni had to ask. “You got a reason for being out here?

  “Yep. Wildlife photographer. Camped over the hill that way. Early morning I sit on that hill and wait for animals to come to water.”

  “Interesting.” Hanging the cup back, Loni looked around and nodded. “Any human traffic?”

  “Only a teenager with maybe a ten-year old boy. Filled their canteens. When they saw me they ran. You might catch up with them.”

  Loni looked around. “Pretty much as I remember it. You see signs of anybody living in that shack?”

  “Not since I been here. Lotta trash around, but not people.”

  Loni wandered over to the shack and picked up an empty tortilla plastic bag from the food packaging debris strewn around. “I think you just missed some hikers. Probably undocumented workers. Stayed a few days from the mess.”

  Red looked around. “Think they'll be back?”

  “Not unless they're mules. If that's so, they'll head back in a few days.”

  Red thought about that for a minute. “Oh, well. It was nice while it lasted. Want some coffee before I pack up and go?”

  “Sure.” Loni followed Red around a small hill. Hidden in a grove of mesquite trees was a pickup, its red color turned into washed-out rust. Staring at hanging rags in a tree above the pickup, Loni groaned, “Oh, god. A rape tree!” She pedaled backward, reaching for her gun until she realized the sun had faded and yellowed the tattered underwear.

  “What rape tree?” Red's eyes darted around looking for a place to run.

  “Up there in the tree, Red. Look at that underwear hanging there. Coyotes smuggling women into the U.S. often rob and rape them,” she sputtered. “They hang the underwear in a tree for trophies and dump the women to die in the desert.”

  “Can't the women climb up there and get it back?”

  “You ever tried to climb a mesquite tree?” Loni asked, scornfully.

  “Oh, god.” said Red. “I didn't know. I figured they were flags of some short showing the trail. I never imagined. Please. I'm sorry.” Red jumped onto the hood of the pickup and tried pulling the half-ratted underwear from the mesquite tree.

  “Leave it, Red. Those mesquite thorns are gonna cut you to pieces.”

  Loni watched him climb off his pickup shaking his head. “How could anyone do that?”

  Loni had no answer for him. “You know you picked a main trafficking route for undocumented immigrants and drug runners to do your picture-taking. It's really dangerous along here.”

  “I'm beginning to feel like I'm in the middle of a war.” Red shook his head and grinned. “Funny thing, though. This war on drugs is really a big joke, and border security is the other joke.”

  “You need to be careful anyway, Red. Look out for smugglers. Especially look out for the self-appointed sickos our politicians turn loose. If you see a body, don't go near it. That's how they ambush you. Maybe they won’t kill you, but by the time they strip you of everything and leave you to die, you'll wish they had.”

  “You know, when I drove up here I came through what looked like an auto graveyard. Had to stop and take photos there. There was everything abandoned there.” Red grinned. “I even saw a car with Arizona license plates that read SMUGLR. I really shouldn't trust anyone out here, huh?”

  “Not on this border. My granddad always said violence never resolved who’s right. Only who's left."

  Red left her a fresh thermos of coffee, and Loni had settled in with her ready-to-eat meal before she heard the sound of bikes.

  The three motorcycles circling Loni threw dirt in her face and on her food before they turned off the noise makers. “You expecting company?” Loni's sardonic grin stayed on her face through the antics. “Made enough noise to bring the second coming.”

  “Nope.” Bobby at cross-legged beside Loni and grabbed the thermos. “Just left a nasty scene.”

  Alarmed, Loni blurted. “Was it Red?”

  “You talking about that hairy red monster in that beat-up pickup?” Bobby giggled between each word.

  Shaking her head at Bobby, Loni had to grin back. “Don't make fun. That's his coffee you're drinking.”

  “He went by us so fast I thought he was going to flip that thing,” Liv quizzed Loni. “What'd you do to him anyway?”

  “Wasn't me.” Loni nodded at the rape tree.

  “Oh, shit.” Liv rubbed her face. “Does it never end?”

  “She's still stressing about the scene we left at the border.”

  Alarmed, Loni watched tears form in Liv's eyes. “What happened?”

  Trying to wipe the tears away, Liv shoved her kickstand down and climbed off. “I suppose the bathroom's out there somewhere.”

  Howard grinned. “There's a million acres, girly. Help yourself.”

  “Smart ass.” Slapping Howard across the back of the head, Liv hurried down the wash that snaked by the windmill.

  “So, Howard. Talk to me.”

  “You know those catapults that fling things through the air?”

  Reaching out a hand to interrupt Howard, Bobby insisted, “I keep telling you, that thing's a trebuchet, not a catapult!”

  “And who the fuck cares?” Howard shot back.

  “Call it a slingshot,” Loni suggested. “Tell me.”

  Howard looked down and toed the dirt with one foot. “It was up against a border fence on a flatbed towed by a big beat-up Mack cab. The sling was a big sucker made from wood. Looked like the federales caught them tossing bales of marijuana across the fence.” Howard swallowed hard. “Guess they decided it would be great sport to trade the bales for the smugglers so they were strapping smugglers into that contraption and flinging them over the fence. That was after they shot the smugglers on the American side of the fence who were catching the bales.”

  Bobby continued the description. “Liv went ballistic and rode into them firing into the air, threatening to shoot the lot of them. She made them untie the smuggler in the sling and put him in their car along with the two who were left. Still waving her gun in the air, she followed them for a mile, making sure they drove back toward town.”

  “What'd they do with the bodies?”

  “Nothing. They would have left them for the coyotes and cougars to drag the carcasses back to their lairs. Liv made us bury them. She used the sling shot for a bonfire. Then we had to go more than twenty miles to find a barbed wire fence to cut so we could circle back.”

  “Yeah,” Bobby continued in his high stressed out voice. “Good thing part of our border has barbed-wire instead of those big ass-jerk fences. We'd never got back to bury them.” He shook his head. “I just got back from a tour in Afghanistan, and I'm beginning to feel right at home.” He reached over and gave the thermos top to Howard who gulped the last of the hot coffee down.

  “He already worked for the FBI before he went in so they gave him back his job,” Howard explained as he returned the lid to Loni.

  Bobby’s laugh sounded like a small barking dog. “Never said I wa
s smart.”

  “So that's why you’re late!” Loni said, ignoring Bobby’s retort. “I got to ask. How'd they camouflage that big a trebuchet?”

  “Easy. They built it to look like a cotton trailer. Opened the back and pulled off the canvas top.”

  Liv walked back into camp and looked around at the group. Then she stared down at Loni. “Who's cooking?”

  Loni laughed. “I just ate. Sorry. Was I supposed to wait for you?”

  “Hell, yes.” Liv looked around. “We've got packets of jerky and energy bars, but we could sure use something else.”

  Loni shrugged. “I've got a few more MRE's.”

  “Oh, god no,” Bobby groaned. “I had all of those I could stomach in Afghanistan. Please say you have something else.”

  “I could toast some prickly pear pads for you. They taste kind of like green beans.”

  “What pears?” Liv asked as she stopped in the fire circle looking around.

  “That cactus right over there.” Loni pointed to a clump a few yards away. Large glove-sized oval-shaped flat pads grew out of each other, stacking one on top of the other. Sharp yellow clustered needles covered the dark green pads.

  Sore from sitting on the rocky ground, Loni stretched and stiffly walked over to a mesquite tree where she pulled a dead club-like limb along with two long smaller limbs. She shaved off the thorns with her knife and used them to knock the greenest pads off the prickly pear plant. After she sharpened one end of the smaller limbs for a skewer, she stuck the four pads onto the stick and then did the same with the other stick. Handing one to each of the men, she said, “Hold these over the fire until you singe all of the needles off. Pulling those suckers out of your mouth isn't fun. And be careful that you don’t burn yourself!”

  Loni handed Liv the knife. “Grab my GI Joe plate over there to cut them up and fry them in.”

  “Got any salt?”

  Loni snickered. “Lick it off my arm.”

  Liv grinned. “You wish!” Waiting for the needles to burn off, Liv looked around her in the growing dusk. “Any other plant out there to eat?”

  “During the spring and most of the summer the beans off the trees are edible. Not great, but edible.”