by CB McKenzie
Might do, Chief, said the lawyer. She’s got a good lawyer.
* * *
The next morning Rodeo arose even earlier than usual, took a sink bath and dressed in his hiking clothes. He packed his camping gear and the dog’s food and medications into the truck, but he left all his guns in the safe. He cleaned his house thoroughly, made a pot of strong cowboy coffee, then sat at his kitchen table and composed the note to Ronald Rocha.
Rodeo printed in block letters: CARLOS MONJANO, TOHONO O’ODHAM POLICE DEPARTMENT, TUCSON, ARIZONA, BIOLOGICAL FATHER OF FARRAH KATHERINE ROCHA, THOUGHT SAMUEL KILLED FARRAH IN A HIT-AND-RUN SO HE SHOT SAMUEL OFF STARR PASS ROAD BRIDGE IN A DRIVE-BY. Rodeo folded the note into his shirt pocket, filled a blanket-sided canteen with tap water and then sat on the concrete steps of his house until false dawn, when he started walking to La Entrada.
* * *
Rodeo’s cell phone buzzed in his shirt pocket as he was on his way to pick up his dog at Tucson Famous Pets and Aquarium Design Center. TPDS showed as the caller.
Mr. Garnet, this is Jethro Haynes.
What can I do for you, Detective Haynes?
Border Patrol took Carlos Monjano into custody about four a.m. today while he was attempting a crossing north to south. We think Monjano was on his way to Chihuahua, where apparently he has relatives who are involved with the Federation Drug Cartel. Just thought you’d like to know that.
Why would that interest me?
88CRIME got an anonymous tip which indicated that Carlos Monjano was the person who shot Samuel Rocha in a drive-by and I know you were investigating Samuel Rocha’s death.
Did Monjano confess to shooting Samuel Rocha?
No. But he had his gun with him. Fired a few shots and one hit a Border Patrol. Not smart. We probably wouldn’t have had anything on him substantial, just the tip off the hotline, but since he shot a cop we got him in custody for as long as we like and we can sweat him. And of course if we can find a slug in the riverbed then we have his gun and if they match up we’ll probably have him for the death of Samuel Rocha as well.
Hard for a man to get rid of his guns, said Rodeo. And hard not to use them when he has them. That’s the trouble with guns, idn’t it?
I don’t see any trouble with guns, said the police detective.
Anything else, Detective Haynes?
I’ve taken over the investigation of Samuel Rocha’s death and have got a new CSI team coming in from Phoenix, said the TPD detective. And they think that with new intelligence and a computer model they can better project the slug flight after they reconstruct the drive-by scene on the Starr Pass Road bridge, so I’m putting men in the Santa Cruz riverbed with metal detectors.
What about the car Monjano might have been using for the drive-by?
The tipster directed us to a garage in Bisbee, so I’ve got people over there combing a green 1967 Impala and we have an eyewitness now who will testify under oath, a young mechanic named Jesse Storm, that Monjano did at least drive the car out of the garage on the day Samuel Rocha was shot. In fact, when we retracked on Detective Overman’s original investigation into the death of Samuel Rocha we found quite a few gaps.
Clint’s been under terrible pressure these last several years, said Rodeo. Go easy on him.
Not to criticize a fellow police officer, said Haynes. But a man has to do his job or quit it. Simple as that, Mr. Garnet. The detective did not wait for comment on his statement. I just cannot work out how Carlos Monjano was certain that Samuel Rocha killed the little girl in a hit-and-run.
I’m not sure Monjano was certain that Samuel did kill Farrah, said Rodeo. But I think he was going to make someone responsible for the death of his biological child and Samuel was the best bet for having been responsible for that hit-and-run. I guess when he thought someone was on to him and he ran for Mexico when he got flushed that proves he killed Samuel enough for me.
But do you think Samuel Rocha did run over and kill his own sister?
Rodeo did not answer that question. I just followed the leads, Mr. Haynes, he said. I found a man who saw a lowrider car in the vicinity of the Starr Pass Road bridge around the time of Sam’s death. I found that car in Bisbee at an auto body shop that had also probably repaired damage to the car Sam Rocha often drove, front end damage of the sort that would occur if the car had run into or over something or someone. Shortly after little Farrah’s death, her brother Samuel starts attending sweat lodge, probably because he felt guilty about something and needed his spirit cleansed. What would you assume?
There was a pause on the TPD end of the line. Rodeo waited.
Sometimes things work out unexpectedly well, don’t they, Mr. Garnet?
Not so’s I’ve ever noticed, Mr. Haynes.
* * *
He’s been whining for you since before daylight, Summer Skye said. She smiled. He knew you were coming. He knows something is up.
This old dog loves to travel, said Rodeo. He can smell it when we are about the hit the road and we are about to hit the road right now.
Rodeo had the dog in his arms and the dog was licking the man’s bruised face without cease.
The vet hung her skinny arms over the sidewall of Rodeo’s pickup. She did not even ask about Rodeo’s face.
How is he, Doc? Rodeo asked.
His flesh wound will heal up fine, she said. And he seems to be recovered from the shock. She paused. But eventually, if you want him to live much longer he’ll need some real professional help.
Rodeo nodded.
I just never have the money, he said.
Well, he’s a happy dog, said Summer Skye. That’s the important thing. She drummed her fingers on a tent bag in the bed of the truck. Where are you two going with all this camping stuff?
Rodeo loaded the dog into his familiar depression on the shotgun seat and as excited as the dog was to begin with from seeing his master, once back home on the bench seat he was asleep in seconds. Rodeo slammed the door shut and walked around to his side, got in the truck and spoke through the open window. Summer moved away from the truck.
We’re running some errands around town, he said. Tying up a loose end over on the Res and then out to the Foothills to deliver a package and try and make some real money. Maybe enough to pay for some canine chemo. He started the truck. And then we are going to El Paso to deliver an old letter if we can find out who to deliver it to. Rodeo looked through the cracked and dirty front windscreen. And then I think we’re headed to Far West Texas, maybe Hudspeth County or up into the Panhandle, maybe out to where the big windmill farms grow.
You got family over there?
Maybe I do, Rodeo said. I’m not too sure anymore. He held out his hand and Summer Skye shook it hard and let it go quick.
Thanks, Doc, Rodeo said. I appreciate you a lot.
Just stay safe, Summer Skye said. I’m sending out positive vibrations for you two.
Rodeo smiled and nodded as the vet backed away from his truck and lifted her hand. Rodeo and his dog headed to the Res.
* * *
Rodeo left the dog sleeping in the truck and let himself in through the gate of Katherine Rocha’s place, knocking on her screen door hard enough to make it rattle. The old woman took some time to answer but eventually she opened the wood door and peered out through her Mexican screen door and then unlocked it. Rodeo passed inside and followed her as she went straight to the kitchen where she poured four fingers of Christian Brothers Brandy into a tumbler and took a spasmodic gulp. She turned her soured face at Rodeo, who had followed her silently.
Did you bring me my money back you stole?
Rodeo shook his head but said nothing.
I heard they arrested Carlos Monjano for killing the kid so I guess you didn’t amount to much did you? said Katherine Rocha.
Rodeo stared at the woman as sweat began to form on his brow. Katherine Rocha’s hand shook liquor onto the floor. She stared down at the sweet brandy stain on her linoleum.
How did you hear thi
s about Carlos Monjano? Rodeo asked.
I heard it, the old woman said. My ears still work, don’t they.
The police did not say anything like that about Officer Carlos Monjano, said Rodeo. They didn’t say this Tribe cop, Monjano, had killed your grandson. You might have heard on the News that Carlos Monjano has been arrested but I know for a fact that you did not hear from the News why Farrah’s biological father has been arrested.
The jelly jar shattered on the floor as the old woman wobbled against the sink.
I think you ought to have a seat, Mrs. Rocha.
I can stand on my own two feet in my own kitchen without some half-breed telling me what to do, the old woman said. Her voice was brittle and frail but still mean.
Rodeo pulled out a kitchen chair and waited. The old woman sat down hard and kneaded her eyeball sockets with swollen knuckles. Rodeo backed away to the doorjamb and leaned slightly there to keep his knees from shaking. He wiped his face with his hand.
What I couldn’t figure out was why you hired me in the first place, Rodeo said.
I told you why. I wanted you to do some work, to find who killed the boy. But you failed at that didn’t you.
Rodeo continued as if the woman had not spoken.
You obviously didn’t care about Samuel. You thought your grandson was a piece of trash. And I’m not sure anybody cared about the kid but one man.
You don’t know anything! You’re an idiot. Just like your mother. And no account. Just like your father.
You know Ronald Rocha, Mrs. Rocha?
He’s crazy! She spat the word. That man is Corruption!
I wouldn’t argue with you on either count about that estimation, said Rodeo. He waited a few seconds before continuing. But Ronald did love Samuel. And he still does. He grieves for the boy when no one else does.
You don’t know anything … The old woman’s voice was now very weak.
And Ronald, more than anything in the world, wants to know who is responsible for Samuel’s death, said Rodeo.
You know who! The old woman practically yelled this. You found out, didn’t you? She was his child and so Carlos did it out of revenge! It’s over. The police just got Carlos Monjano. No thanks to you.
No, Mrs. Rocha. Rodeo spoke quietly. The police have in custody the man who shot Samuel and caused his death. Though you’d have no way to know that but unless you just guessed it.
The old woman said nothing.
But Carlos Monjano, Farrah’s biological father, is not the one most responsible for Samuel Rocha’s death. You are.
The woman sat still like a stone. Rodeo waited, but Katherine Rocha did not move, seemed scarcely to breathe. He continued.
You and Samuel had an arrangement, Mrs. Rocha. Your grandson was supposed to pick you up from the Casino after you had spent the afternoon playing slots and getting drunk. He would walk all the way out there and then drive you home.
He was worthless. She whispered this as if she did not want to be heard.
You called Samuel that late afternoon or early evening in May, May the third, but he didn’t answer. He was at a party and he didn’t answer your call. He stayed at the party and there are plenty of witnesses to that. Maybe you waited but then you got impatient. You should have just called a taxi or gotten a ride from someone else but you were too cheap to do that and I doubt you have a friend in the world. So you just drove yourself home that night, even drunk as you were.
The woman sat, stared at her hands on the table.
You ran over Farrah, Rodeo said. You didn’t mean to of course but you did. She was probably walking the couple of blocks to your house, her abuela’s house where she knew she would be doted on because she was the favored child. Maybe her parents were drunk at home or out partying and not paying any attention to her. Neighbors said the kids play outside in this neighborhood at night, in the dark. Or maybe for some reason you just turned left on Mark Street toward your son’s house instead of turning right toward your own house. You were drunk and confused. And Farrah was playing in the street as she often did and you hit her with your car.
The old woman remained frozen.
And you knew you did this, Mrs. Rocha, said Rodeo. You knew you had run over her as soon as you did it, didn’t you? But you didn’t want to take responsibility for that so you didn’t even stop. You just drove back to your house. Nobody much in that neighborhood notices anything anyway and you know that. And you tried to forget it, what you’d done. Because somehow in your mind it wasn’t your fault, was it? It was not your fault because nothing bad that’s ever happened to you in your whole life has ever been your fault.
The woman said nothing.
I don’t know how you hid the car from the police. I don’t know why they didn’t question you more thoroughly, said Rodeo. The man in charge of the investigation was just not doing his job properly. That detective from Tucson Police assigned to Farrah’s death was just not doing his job. And you’re just an old woman no one would suspect. So you got away with it.
Rodeo waited, but his scenario earned no reaction from the old woman at all.
The next day you told Samuel to drive your car somewhere, not in Tucson, and get it fixed, maybe even before the police had arrived. You didn’t tell him what had happened, you just sent him on this errand for you. Samuel knew of a shop in Bisbee maybe because Carlos Monjano had talked about this place to Samuel’s father, Alonzo, or someone local around here. Or maybe it was just bad luck for Samuel to wind up at C-23 Auto Body where Carlos Monjano was known to frequent.
The old woman still did not move.
You have lots of cash on hand so you gave Samuel some cash and told him to clean the car up and get the damage to your car repaired, even if it was slight, and then to destroy the receipt once the work was done. But Samuel knew what had really happened. It wouldn’t take a genius to figure that out just by the circumstances and your nervousness about the deal. So he didn’t destroy the receipt. I don’t know why he kept it. Maybe he would use it against you later for blackmail or maybe he was going to give it to the police or maybe it was just a memento. Maybe he just forgot about it. But for whatever reason he kept it and that receipt was the clue that led me to Carlos Monjano. Rodeo wiped his face. Samuel probably died with that receipt in his pocket. And he had not told anyone about what had happened. But I’m sure he had figured out who was responsible for his sister’s death. You.
The old woman shook her head.
His half sister, she said. She was just his half sister. The old woman’s voice was scarcely audible.
Rodeo waited but Katherine Rocha said no more.
Your hit-and-run was not discovered but Carlos Monjano started snooping around, looking for the person who had killed his biological child, Farrah. He told me he knew you and he was always around you and Alonzo’s family, taking Farrah to Little Miss Pageants, playing his godfather role. So in passing one day you might have even hinted to him that it was Samuel who was driving around in your car that night, that Samuel might have been driving over that night to see his parents a few blocks from your own house. That’s what you did, isn’t it?
The woman did not deny or confirm anything.
So Carlos Monjano killed Samuel because he thought that Samuel had run over Farrah. Monjano shot Samuel in a drive-by just based on this idea that you put in his brain and without any real evidence. Rodeo closed and opened his eyes slowly, but the old woman remained still as a statue in front of him.
I don’t know what your motivations in all this are, Mrs. Rocha, Rodeo said. Maybe you did this because you knew Carlos Monjano and knew how mean he was and knew he was seeking revenge, so once Carlos Monjano had put the blame on Samuel then you felt somehow like you would be in the clear for what you’d done. The cops didn’t care about the hit-and-run, the cops didn’t care about the drive-by. So once Carlos Monjano was satisfied he had identified his child’s killer then you were safe. You probably didn’t think he would kill Samuel but I’m not sure you c
ared that much.
The old woman began to rub her knotted and mottled hands together as if she were washing them.
But it’s been gnawing at you, hadn’t it, Mrs. Rocha? The guilt has gotten to you, hasn’t it?
The woman bowed her head.
Or else you just couldn’t rest easy thinking someone would find out what you did? asked Rodeo. And that’s why you hired me. Just to put your mind completely at rest. Because if a private investigator could not connect you to your granddaughter’s hit-and-run then you were really home free. You just had to know if you were ever going to be a suspect. It was gnawing at you that you might be. Not knowing was driving you crazy.
The old woman’s breathing became labored.
Or else you really did want someone to know about what you did, Rodeo said. You wanted at least one person in the world to know what you did. You couldn’t tell anyone else because you had no one else—no priest, no friend or family to confess to. So you hired me to be your confessor.
You’re stupid, the old woman said. You are just guessing at things you don’t know about.
That may be, Mrs. Rocha. But I figured out your crime and I think Samuel had figured it out too and whether you felt guilt or not, he did. He was racked with guilt about his little sister’s death, Rodeo said. Maybe he was guilty because he didn’t come to pick you up when you were drunk at the Casino. Or maybe he was guilty because he knew what had happened but couldn’t or wouldn’t tell anybody. Maybe he was just a guilty kid in general. I didn’t know Samuel. But the boy kept your secret, Mrs. Rocha. I don’t know why Samuel didn’t rat you out, but he didn’t. He died with your secret.
I didn’t do anything, the old woman said.
Carlos Monjano killed the wrong person, Rodeo said. He should have killed you, Mrs. Rocha.
You’re stupid trash. The old woman’s voice was weak but she looked directly at Rodeo until he looked away. And a thief. Just like your mother.
Rodeo pushed himself away from the wall. I came here today to let you know that your deeds are coming back on you, Mrs. Rocha. Because now Samuel’s only friend in the world, Ronald Rocha, knows your part in this, in Samuel’s killing. And you know Ronald Rocha, so you know how he is. Rodeo’s legs began to shake slightly. Ronald Rocha means to avenge his Sammy’s death and kill the person most responsible for that boy’s death, said Rodeo. And that person is you, Mrs. Rocha.