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

by Sue Hardesty

  Loni hadn't moved from the kitchen table when Lola knocked on the door. The cup of coffee in front of her had turned cold. She struggled up to let Lola in. Coco was her usual ecstatic self to see Lola.

  “Pour yourself some coffee,” Loni said. “I'll be right back.” Giving her hair a good, quick wash in the shower, she collected scissors, comb, and towel. Returning, she wrapped the towel around her shoulders and sat down.

  “You're serious.” It wasn't a question, and Loni didn't answer. “How much do you want me to cut?”

  “It's supposed to be above the shoulders. But I can't braid it that short, so cut it off my neck. It's too hot.”

  “I'm not sure about this.”

  “Didn't you say you cut everybody's hair in your neighborhood?”

  “Yes, but...”

  “Butts are to sit on. Just do it, please.” Shiichoo came in and sat down to watch. They were both near tears.

  “Shiichoo, if you're going to sit there and cry, I'm going to cut it the way I did in high school.”

  “No, you won't. Lola won't do that.”

  “I got two hands and a mirror.”

  Lola stared at Loni. “What'd you do?”

  “Crew cut.”

  “You're kidding!”

  Shiichoo added, “She also streaked it with that god-awful spray paint. Usually rainbow colors.”

  “You were out in high school?” Lola said in amazement.

  Loni was too exhausted to give her grandmother a hard time about swearing. “I was a two-spirit and proud of it.” No one said anything for several minutes, and Loni listened to the snicking of the scissors as the black hair fell in long batches around her feet. Shiichoo gathered it and gently put it in a large plastic Ziploc bag.

  “Make somebody a good wig.” She sounded weepy.

  “Sure,” answered Lola. “There's a place that makes wigs up for cancer patients. You can send it there.”

  Lola snipped around her ears. “Tell me something. Why didn't any of us see how bad Chief really was? I thought he was just a sick old man.”

  “Bahb knew. He said Chief had the soft wet eyes of pure evil.”

  “I'm sorry?”

  “Soft wet eyes. Did you not notice?”

  “No. Why didn't you tell me?”

  “Bahb says —”

  “Wait a minute. Is this another one of your granddad's truisms?”

  “Doesn't make them wrong!” Loni said defensively.

  “I know. Just want to know what I'm hearing here. Go on.”

  “He says no matter what evil a person does, the only way to get somebody to believe it is, is to say he killed a cat.”

  “Works for me.” Lola handed Loni a hand-mirror.

  “Wow! I look like k.d. lang with a crooked nose.”

  Lola reached out and lifted Loni's chin with a finger and studied her.

  “Your forehead's broader, your chin is rounder. And she doesn't have dimples.” Lola shook her head. “Nah. You look more like Geronimo.” She laughed as she ducked away from Loni.

  “Does Geronimo have dimples, Shiichoo?”

  “I don't really know. Never met him since he died a good twenty years before I was born. Don't think I ever saw a picture of him smiling. Maybe.”

  “Were you related?” Loni asked.

  “Probably. We were both Chiricahua Apaches from the high country. I was born on the San Carlos Reservation.”

  “I remember that, now. Do you know how Geronimo died?”

  “Fell off a horse, I think. Got pneumonia. He's buried at Fort Sill, Oklahoma.” Shiichoo frowned. “Guess Usen got tired of taking care of him.”

  “Usen?”

  “Apache high God of the Bedonkohe religion.”

  “I could use Usen right now.” Loni fell silent. Torn by her sorrow over Willie's death, Loni fought her tears.

  Shiichoo took the towel from her shoulders, and Loni heard the screeching of the screen door. She knew Shiichoo was shaking her hair in the yard for the birds to build soft nests. She made herself think of the small brown sparrow's push, pull, and tug as the nest grew in her mind.

  Lola sat down and took Loni's hand. “I'd like to stay for the funeral. Is that okay?”

  Loni leaned over and hugged her. “Thanks.”

  “People are coming,” Shiichoo said as she came back in. “Time to get food ready.”

  “I'd like to help,” Lola said.

  “Of course you can,” Loni answered, working on a cheerful voice. “Why'd you think I asked you over?”

  Lola slapped her across the back of the head as she passed by to help Shiichoo.

  * * *

  The motley crew trickled into the glow of the waxing moon hanging low in the sky. Flickering candles lit the way to the old ranch graveyard. Four of Willie's friends lowered his sitting body into his final resting place, facing him south. They placed his pottery ollos of pinole and water beside him. Loni and Bahb helped them shovel dirt until Willie was covered for his journey. Silently, she wished Willie and Paint a fast ride to their happy hunting grounds.

  In minutes, it was over and everyone quietly drifted into the night. Loni knew it was the way Willie would have wanted it.

  CHAPTER 25

  AT THE RANCH Loni wandered between the cemetery, Roanie, Stonewall, and Paint's grave. The sun hung directly above her, boiling her skin, but she didn't care. Shiichoo grabbed her between wanderings and dabbed aloe vera on her face, neck, and hands as she made her drink large cans of warm water. “Believe in the magic, child. It will help.”

  Loni remembered Bahb's voice every time something bad happened. “When you walk hard road and stay true to yourself, it make magic that get you through.”

  She turned to Shiichoo. “I'm trying, but right now that road's too hard."

  Shiichoo gave Loni a long hug and left her alone to return to the house.

  Hugging herself, Loni shook her head and wandered on throughout the day, standing at the graves, talking to Roanie and Stonewall while she hung onto their necks and cried.

  It was late afternoon when Daniel got out of his pickup and walked over to her. Without a word he held her in a long hug and rocked her until Loni stopped crying. Backing up a step, Daniel stared around. “Don't know when I was out here last.” Pointing at a small, square picket-fenced-in area, he asked, “What's that?”

  “Graveyard.”

  “Oh, yeah, I remember. My grandparents are there.”

  “Our grandparents. And great grandparents,” Loni reminded Daniel. “And my mom. And now Willie. All our family history right there.”

  “What history?” Daniel pulled Loni back to the shade of a mesquite tree. “You're so full of crap,” Daniel said scornfully. “They were out there way before you were born. You don't know anything about them.”

  “Sure I do, Daniel.” Loni pointed to the old adobe ranch house. “Our grandmother lived in that house when she was little, just like me. Grew up in the same room I did.” Turning around, Loni pointed to the barn. “She rode her milk cow into that barn at milking time, just like me. Her cow had a calf she named McGiny that followed her around like a dog. I had a white face calf I called Whitey who lost her mama so she followed me around. I see her dog, Waffles, running right beside Jack as they chased chickens with us around that same windmill.”

  Loni nodded toward the mud and wood slat hut squatting by the graveyard. “I can see our grandmother dragging a blanket behind her to spend the night in that sandwich house, just like I did.” She turned to face Daniel again. “Who they were, is who we are. You should reread those notes and letters I gave you and ask your folks for every story they know and write it down for your kids before you can't.” Loni sighed. “What incredible people they were, Daniel.”

  “I never heard you talk like that about your dad.”

  Loni snorted. “Only thing he left behind was me.”

  “You're so full of shit.”

  Daniel turned back to stare at the old graveyard. “That recent dig. I
sn't it too big for Willie?”

  “We buried Willie with his horse and my old border collie.”

  “You mean old Jack?” Daniel asked.

  Loni swiped at another tear. “Bahb had to put him down last week. Said he knew Jack waited for Willie and Paint. He said a man was happiest with both his horse and a dog to travel to the happy hunting ground.”

  “How come Jack's not waiting for your granddad?”

  “I asked him that. I said we don't have any more dogs around here for him to travel with. What was he going to do?”

  Loni thought about the small smile that appeared on his beautiful brown face as he looked at her with warm brown eyes. Looking up at Daniel, she grinned. “He said 'Guess I take old mangy barn cat you let loose in the house.'”

  “Well, guess that's not so weird.” James snorted a short laugh. “Fredric Baur, the guy that invented the Pringles potato chip can? Died in 2008 and they buried his ashes in one.”

  “One what?”

  “Pringle can.”

  “Oh!” Loni was silent a minute. “I heard of someone born in a toilet. When she died, her family buried her ashes in it.”

  “You're shitting me!”

  Loni got the giggles with James at his choice of words. “Nope.”

  “What'd they do then?” James giggled with her. “Holler 'Don't flush the toilet.'”

  “I don't know. Maybe they put the toilet in a casket and buried it.” Loni continued a sad smile with Daniel as they walked back to the barn. Loni grabbed Daniel’s arm and pulled him into the barn, stopping at Daniel's last car rebuild when he was in high school. “You ever going to finish this job?” she teased him.

  “Oh my god,” Daniel walked around the old 1948 Ford pickup. The axles on blocks, it was so beat up and rusted that it no longer had any color. Daniel touched it gently. “Oh my god,” he repeated. “I was thinking about this old pickup the other day, wondering whatever happened to it.”

  Watching him, Loni laughed. “As I recall, that's about the time you graduated and moved your loyalty to airplanes.”

  “I did.” Daniel walked Loni out of the barn back to his pickup. “Tell Bob I'll be back soon to get it.” Daniel leaned his forehead against Loni's as he gave her one last hug. “Hang in there, cuz. I need you around.” He climbed in his pickup and started the motor. Backing out he leaned out of the window. “Around here teasing you is my best entertainment!”

  “It always was, you shit!”

  “Better now, right?” Daniel always had the last word.

  C HAPTER 26

  THE NEXT MORNING Loni got to work just in time to hear Junior ranting at Bobby.

  “Don't blame Bobby.” Loni's anger spiked as she walked up behind them.

  Junior whirled, the veins in his neck pulsing as his face flushed red. “You stupid squaw,” he raged at her. “This isn't your case. I'm turning him loose.”

  “You do, and I'll arrest you for interference.”

  “You're fired!” he yelled, spittle hitting her in the face.

  “Junior,” Loni yelled back. “I don't work for you,” She took a kerchief out of her pocket and wiped off the spittle.

  He raised his arm, his hand in a fist but before he struck Loni, Bobby grabbed Junior's arm. “You don't want to do that, Junior,” he said gently as he pulled Junior into the evidence room and shut the door. It was a long time before the two came out, and Junior did not meet her eyes as he left the building.

  “What did you say to him, Bobby?”

  “Let it go, Loni.” Patting her on the shoulder, Bobby nodded to Lola and followed Junior out the door.

  The day passed in mindless movements as Loni filled in long delayed paper work in an attempt to clean her desk. People left her alone. Ready to go home, Loni got a call that made her day. “Hey Lola,” Loni said hanging up. “That was Harry Beal, the Tucson detective? He said two of the Mexican mafia who had escaped with Manny were arrested and returned to Tucson. Once Manny testifies, they'll send him home on the regular bus. Said it'd probably take about five more days.”

  “Thank you.” Lola came around her counter and gave Loni a long hug. Loni was embarrassed, but she wasn’t about to pull away. “Maybe we can have that talk now?” Lola asked. “Dinner tomorrow?”

  Loni vigorously nodded and dashed out the door. She hesitated at the bottom of the station steps, thinking about waiting for Lola, but she promised to spend the night at the ranch. It was her turn to cook supper, and she had no idea what she was going to fix. Filling her lungs with a deep breath, Loni felt the cool breeze that came with November. She took another deep breath and caught a whiff of those wonderful beignets baking across the street. Bahb loved beignets for breakfast. And maybe a pie for tonight.

  A dark truck drove around to the back of the bakery. Dark green reflected off the side. It was so dark the green was hard to see, but it was green. Damn! All this time I thought that truck was black! Does Woodland Green look black? She walked around the back to the loading dock where the truck was backed with its loading door open and saw Dirk load racks of bread loaves on the truck. “Hey Dirk. Where you heading with all that bread?”

  “Delivering to a distributor in Phoenix. How come you want to know?” Dirk grunted as he shoved in another box. Avoiding eye contact, he grabbed his dolly and headed back through the large open loading dock door for another stack of bread boxes.

  Loni followed him in and looked around. “They can't make their own bread in Phoenix?”

  “Not like this. It's Tommy's special cactus bread. No one else has the recipe.” Dirk’s voice took on a menacing tone. “Would you get out of my way? I'm workin’ here.”

  “Sorry.” Stepping back, Loni let him by. “I'm going to have to buy a loaf sometime,” she said to Dirk's back. “You got any left in the bakery?”

  “Why don't you try the front door and find out.” Dirk’s ratty lank hair flew around his face as he shoved the last of the bread into the truck, slammed the rolling door down, and locked it. Without another word, he stomped by Loni and went inside, pulling down the loading dock door. She walked back to the front of the truck. It was a GMC with a dented fender just below the headlight. A streak of blue paint transfer was imbedded in the dent. Hoping nobody could see her, Loni casually scraped a bit into one of her small envelopes.

  Disappointed that Lola had already gone home, Loni dropped her envelope off with Harris Harris, the evening dispatcher, and headed for the ranch. It was dark when she finally turned onto the dirt road to the ranch. Her motor running and headlights on, she unlatched the gate and strung the tangled stick and barbed wire gate along the edge of the road. She walked back to the truck, reached up for the steering wheel, and pulled herself back into the seat. Slamming the door shut, she drove onto the other side, got out and dragged the gate back, latched it, and climbed back into her truck again. “I swear I'm gonna put in a cattle guard,” Loni muttered to herself the same way she did every time since she was a kid and able to open and close that damned gate.

  Close to midnight Loni's cell phone chirped Lola's ring. “You asleep?”

  “Why? You want to talk now?”

  “Know a better time?”

  “With you anytime is good. Is everything okay?”

  Loni heard a deep sigh. “I wanted you to know I told my family how I felt about you.”

  “And?” Loni sat up in bed, carefully listening.

  Lola sounded subdued. “Two brothers aren't speaking to me, one is threatening to kill you, my dad sort of wandered off, and my mother is in the kitchen crying.”

  “That went well. What now?”

  Lola quietly answered, “I don't know.”

  Loni listened to Lola's breathing before she heard a gentle hang up. Curling around her phone, Loni finally went back to sleep.

  CHAPTER 27

  THE RESULTS ON THE PAINT CHIPS finally came back from the Phoenix lab. It was a match to the motorcycle. “Yes!” Loni shouted as she grabbed the fax from Lola and rushed into
Carl's office. “Here it is, Carl. Proof that this was the truck that ran that biker off the road.”

  With a big grin, Carl jumped into action. “Have Lola take this fax to the judge and get a warrant.” Carl handed the fax back. I'm gonna call Tully and tell him what we got.”

  “Listen, Carl. Can you leave Junior out of this bust?”

  Carl nodded. “Seems he has his own case anyway. He's out doing god knows what.”

  "You ever gonna tell me why we ended up with Junior? It's gotta be a damn good reason."

  Carl sat back and studied Loni a few seconds. "Same ol' same ol’, Loni. It's not what you know, it’s who you know that gets you by in this world.”

  "I know. Uncle Herm preached that at us often enough."

  "In Junior's case it’s way too true." Carl ran a hand through his thinning sandy hair. "Seems he shot his girlfriend so he had to get out of the state or go to prison."

  "Well shit! Did she survive?"

  "She did. Apparently Junior's self-defense plea fell through when she gained consciousness. I understand the first thing Junior said when he heard she was talking was how sorry he was he used a six-shooter on her. Said he should have known it would take a canon to kill the bitch.”

  Loni had to laugh. “That’s our Junior. But that still doesn’t explain why we got him.”

  Chagrined, Carl ducked his head. “Like I said, Loni, it’s who you know. Junior’s dad knew a senator from Texas who knew a senator from Arizona who knew the mayor who knew me.”

  “Got it, Carl.” Loni groaned as she shook her head on her way out the door.

  Four of them hid around the bakery, waiting for the Thursday truck to arrive. Tully hunkered down on the roof of the hotel across the alley from the back of the bakery. James ducked down in a pickup with dark tinted windows parked in front of the Western clothing store next door to the bakery. Hoping nobody came along and dumped garbage on them, Carl and Loni huddled in the square empty trash bin beside the loading dock door. Every sound made Loni jump.

  Carl reached over and steadied her hand. “Careful with that gun before you shoot somebody.”