Key Witness

by Sandra Bolton

  It seemed impossible, but there on a rise a short distance from the opening stood his scruffy, beautiful three-legged pooch, wagging his tail and barking in excited recognition. Right behind Patch, scrambling up the rocks, came Emily. Abe broke into a huge grin and let out a whoop of joy.

  “It really is you. I can’t believe it. You look like shit, and I bet you smell like it, too. Bat shit all over your face,” she said, but her smile matched the radiance of his.

  “Goddamn, Emily,” Abe croaked. “What took you so long?” He heaved a huge sigh of relief. “How’d you find me, sweetheart?”

  “It’s a long story. But don’t be sweet-talking me right now. First things first—we need to get you out of there. Are you hurt?”

  “No, I’m okay, a few bruises and scratches. This is the only way out. Do you have a pickax or anything you can use to make the hole bigger?”

  “It so happens I think we do. Hold tight, I’m going back to get the rest of the group. We’re not that far from the road. Sally is with Paco and two of his pals, checking the mine, and Paco brought his truck. There’s a big toolbox in the bed.”

  “Wait. First I need to know, did anyone get hurt? Is Sally okay?”

  “Everyone is fine, Abe. I’ll tell you all about it after we get you out.”

  Emily disappeared from view, but Patch remained close, barking animatedly, as if encouraging his master to climb out of the hole. Alone with his dog, Abe let the tears stream down his face as he rubbed Patch’s head and marveled at the miracle that Emily and the others had managed to free themselves and find him.

  Ten minutes later Emily returned with Sally, Paco, and two of his buddies. The men carried a pickax, a sledgehammer, and a mattock. When they saw Abe’s head poking out of the opening in the rocks, they all let out a whoop.

  Paco hefted the pickax in the air. “Cuidado, hombre,” he said as Abe withdrew his head and Paco brought the pick down near the opening. After two hours’ work, the men pulled him free.

  Sally clapped her hands and ran to greet him when Abe emerged, but backed off when she got a whiff of guano. “I sure am glad to see you, but, phewee, you stink. I wanted to give you a big hug, but I think I’ll wait till you’ve had a bath.”

  Abe picked up his dog and held him close, grinning at everyone. “Not half as glad as I am to see you.” When they reached the Bronco he climbed in the backseat beside Emily. Exhausted, ragged, and filthy, he closed his eyes, leaned back, and exhaled a long sigh. “Okay, Em. How the hell did you find me?” Patch laid his head across Abe’s lap.

  “We knew you were going to the burned shack, so we came out here and looked in the mine. When we heard someone moaning, everyone thought it was you, but it turned out to be one of Corazón’s men, wounded but still alive. The rest of the gang was nowhere in sight. This guy, Chino, had been shot and left to die, so he didn’t hesitate to rat on Corazón. But we’ll get into that later. One of Paco’s pals dropped Chino off at the hospital in Bisbee.” Emily took a breath and scratched the dog’s ears. “Patch is actually the one who found you. We wanted to search the mine, but Patch kept barking outside of the entrance and running in this direction. I finally followed him, and you know the rest.”

  “I didn’t know my dog had jumped into the Bronco when we started out for Paco’s. But now I’m sure glad he did.”

  “He must have climbed into the back when we weren’t looking,” Sally broke in. “Then he laid low till we reached Paco’s. Once you two went inside, he jumped up in the front seat with me. Tricky little son of a gun.”

  Abe rubbed the dog’s head. “You saved my life, boy.”

  “You know what they say—what goes around comes around. You saved him once, and now he’s repaying the deed,” Emily said.

  Abe remained quiet. Sharon saved Patch. Maybe Sharon saved me as well.

  “What are you thinking?”

  “Nothing, just that . . . I wouldn’t be alive if you hadn’t followed Patch, Emily.”

  “Karma,” she said, her eyes shining like polished obsidian.

  No one spoke during the ride to Sally’s. Abe let his head drop onto his chest, and, within minutes, he began to snore.

  28

  Following a long, hot soak in the tub, Abe succumbed to Sally’s insistence that she examine his wounds. Finally satisfied he wasn’t suffering from anything a hot meal and rest couldn’t cure, she left him sitting in the living room and went in the kitchen to “put together some breakfast fixings.” Abe patted the sofa cushion and beckoned Emily to sit beside him.

  Emily snuggled up close. “You do smell much nicer.” She also had showered and emanated a clean scent he had come to associate with her—that of rain falling on mountain sage.

  “Now don’t you try sweet-talking me. I want to hear how everything came down at Dick’s after I left with Corazón.” He draped his arm around her and nuzzled her damp hair.

  “I tried, we all tried, wiggling free from the duct tape, or looking for something sharp to rub up against that might cut through, but we couldn’t move, and we couldn’t talk.”

  Abe nodded, picturing the sight of everyone hog-tied and helpless.

  “Then, sometime after midnight, the blond woke up.”

  “The floozy that came with DiMarco. I forgot about her. She must have passed out in the booth.”

  “Right. She didn’t have a clue as to what had been going on. She heard banging noises coming from behind the bar and staggered over to see who was making all the commotion. She was still pretty drunk.”

  “And probably looking for more champagne.”

  Emily smiled, but seemed sympathetic when she described the girl. “DiMarco picked her up in Las Vegas and promised her a good time if she came along for the ride. She’s just a lost girl trying to make it in a tough world, so she obliged. Didn’t really have any attachment to DiMarco or the Mafia.”

  Nothing stirred in the silent stillness left by the previous night’s winds, and midmorning sun flooded the room. The dust storm had rearranged the landscape and settled on the surfaces of Sally’s household, giving everything a muted look. “So, what did she do when she saw you?”

  “First she screamed. Then she looked back and forth from me to DiMarco, her eyes round as saucers. He grunted and squirmed, trying to get her attention, his face purple with rage, but in the end she came over and pulled the tape off my mouth.” Emily tentatively touched her lips. “It hurt like hell, but I started talking fast, telling her she did the right thing, that the men she came with were gangsters, they had tried to kill us, and that she should get as far away from them as possible.”

  “She believed you?”

  “Of course. Once my hands were free, the girl and I, her name is Desiree, cut Sally and Paco and his buddies loose. Then I grabbed DiMarco’s keys from Vito’s pocket, gave them to Desiree, and told her to take off, go somewhere besides Vegas, then ditch the car. I took a few big bills from DiMarco’s wallet to sweeten her getaway and advised her to lay low, get a new line of business, and never mention to anyone what happened.”

  Abe chuckled, and Emily started giggling. Pretty soon they were both laughing, whether from exhaustion, giddiness, relief, or the unlikely turn of events—it didn’t matter. Cathartic laughter filled the room.

  Sally appeared at the kitchen door with the coffeepot in hand. “What’s going on in here that’s so durn funny?”

  “Who would have thought”—Abe gasped for breath—“that we would be saved by a scruffy little three-legged mutt and a bleached-blond floozy in a tight red dress and six-inch heels?”

  “Huh.” Sally shrugged. “Well, why not? It’s another one of life’s little mysteries. You know, that gal would have made a good nurse, if she hadn’t taken up that other trade. Her heart’s in the right place.” She dismissed them with a shake of her head, as if the unexpected in life should be expected. “Who wants bacon and biscuits and coffee? You better come and get it while it’s hot.”

  No one could mistake Sally’s heart,
Abe thought, while he slathered butter and honey on his sixth biscuit. His hunger satisfied, he wanted to hear the rest of Emily’s account. “What did you do with DiMarco and Benavutti?” he asked between bites and slurps of coffee.

  “Paco and his boys made sure their knots were tight, then they took off for the burned shack. I called Bisbee Police and identified myself. I said I was working undercover on a case involving Vicente DiMarco and Vito Benavutti. I added that while making an arrest, Rico Corazón and some of his Mexican Mafia biker gang came into Dick’s, robbed the place, and left everyone bound and gagged—that I managed to escape and went after Corazón.”

  “You gave them your name? Isn’t that going to get you in hot water?”

  Emily laughed. “I gave them a false name and said I worked with Zuni Nation Police. We’re always in hot water with the Zuni, anyway. Before I hung up, I told them I left a microrecorder on the bar with a taped confession of the Tintown murder and explosion.”

  Abe chewed on that. “That lie about the false name is going to catch up with you, Em.”

  “By the time they get through a big runaround from the Zuni and figure out who I really am, Corazón will be behind bars and this case wrapped up. They won’t have any reason to bother with me.”

  Sally seemed anxious to relate her part in the story, and broke into the conversation. “I heard Patch raising hell at the back door. So, soon as I got loose, I let him in.” She sliced open a biscuit and filled it with bacon. “He started sniffing all over the place, looking for some trace of you.”

  “And then he found me. I always knew this little fella was smart, but . . .” Abe reached down to where Patch lay curled at his feet and stroked his head. “Don’t worry, boy, we won’t be separated again.” The warm bath and full stomach compounded his sleepiness. He fought the desire to close his eyes, and covered his mouth to hide a yawn.

  When Sally caught him in the act, she ordered him back on the sofa. “We’ve been up all night and everyone could use some rest,” she said, bossy and taking charge. Abe gladly obliged.

  Abe awoke to the sound of women’s voices. The lingering remnants of a disturbing but forgotten dream left him disoriented and dry mouthed. He licked his lips. Purple shadows graced the walls where there had been bright sunshine. Had he really slept the entire day? He stretched his arms, felt the soreness in his muscles, the stiffness in his back. His body ached, but he was alive, and looking down he saw that Patch had not left his side. He closed his eyes and tried to listen to the conversation taking place in the kitchen. Emily was speaking in an earnest way to Sally, as if trying to convince her of something.

  “I’ve been thinking about it all day. I have to go. I need to see my brother first, then I’m heading back to headquarters, tell them what I found out and see if they will let me continue working on the case. You and Abe are staying behind, Sally. There’s no need for you two to be involved in this any longer.”

  “It’s my life,” Sally protested. “I can durn sure decide if I want to be involved or not.”

  “Not anymore, Sally. I want to get Corazón and bring him in, but it has to be done within the law if it’s going to stick. I’ve been going rogue, acting on emotion, but I know there are procedures that need to be followed. I’m going to nail that bastard and make sure he spends the rest of his life in jail. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate everything you’ve done, but it’s time I started using my brain.”

  Abe sat up, tried to clear his head, not sure he heard correctly, and if Emily would really leave without him.

  “There’s a note in here explaining things to Abe. You two split the ten thousand dollars we took off DiMarco. Tell Abe to head on out to California. That taped confession I got from Corazón should clear Abe’s name. Maybe the Staties will focus their investigation on the real killer now. Good-bye, Sally. Hágoóneé. Whenever I pass through this way again, I’ll come out and see you.”

  Abe thought he must have been dreaming, then he heard footsteps, the closing of a door. This can’t be happening, he thought. I have to stop her. “Emily,” he yelled, as he jumped to his feet and rushed into the kitchen. He opened the door and called out again as he ran down the driveway. “Emily, wait.” But it was too late. The Bronco roared down the dirt road leaving nothing for his words to fall on but a cloud of dust. He felt confused, desolate, angry. As he turned toward the house, he saw Sally standing in the doorway. She held out a manila envelope and met his eyes, her face screwed into a dejected frown.

  “She didn’t want our help anymore,” Sally said, handing the envelope to Abe. “She left the money, and a letter for you.”

  29

  Abe stepped onto the porch and reached for the envelope. He felt stunned, betrayed, after what they had been through together. She had saved his life—he had saved hers. Why would she leave without a word? He took the envelope from Sally and looked inside. It was bulky, fat with hundred-dollar bills, but he ignored them and reached for the slip of yellow notebook paper, the sheet folded sloppily as if she had hurriedly crammed it in before changing her mind. The brief, scribbled message offered little. He read in silence, his back turned to Sally who still lingered in the doorway as if she, too, awaited more explanation.

  Abe,

  I’m sorry, but this is the way it has to be. I have to leave before the cops come, and so do you, but in the opposite direction. Continue your journey—see the ocean like you planned. I’ve caused both you and Sally too much trouble, and now I need to get back to legitimate police work. What we had . . . well, it was good. I can only say sorry again, for everything. Take your half of the money and leave. Your job is done, your record clean.

  Emily

  It felt like a slap in the face. Abe crumbled the note into a tight ball and tossed it on the ground. When he turned to face Sally, he couldn’t hide his anger. He handed the envelope back to her. “Keep the damn money, Sally. I don’t want it.”

  “Abe . . .” Sally began, but he cut her short.

  “I mean it. You earned it. I’ll get my gear together. Patch and I will clear out.” He stomped into the house, then swung around and came back out to face Sally again. “Do you have someplace you can go for a while? Before the cops come sniffing around asking questions? I don’t think Paco will give us away, but just in case. There’s no reason for you to get involved.”

  Before she could answer, he reentered the house and gathered his few belongings.

  Sally stood at the door, blocking his exit, arms crossed over her chest.

  “I don’t get it. Why would that hardheaded Indian gal take off like that? And why did she leave us all this money? I don’t need it, neither. Got everything I want right here. You earned it.” She held out the envelope. Abe shook his head. “I’m not moving till you take it.” She didn’t budge until he took the envelope from her and stuffed it in his backpack. A wistful look softened her features. “You know, I liked that spunky gal, and you two made a mighty handsome couple.”

  Abe put his arms around the old nurse, holding her bony body in a tight embrace. “Forget it, Sally. Some things aren’t meant to be. Who knows? Maybe I’ll pass back through here someday. Right now, there’s an ocean I need to find.” He kissed her lightly on the forehead. “Thanks for everything.” Before he drove away he turned and waved good-bye to Sally’s wooden figure.

  Abe wanted to see Will before he left, even though a swing through Phoenix took him out of his way. He followed the two-lane highway to the small town of Benson where he topped off his gas tank at a Texaco station. His anger had drained away, leaving in its place the same cold emptiness and desolation he had been living with since Sharon’s death. He reached into his pocket to pay the old man behind the counter, relieved that Sally had forced the money on him. Otherwise, he would have been left with nothing but a few dollars and change. You’re too stubborn—too much pride, Freeman, he lamented. He would have to find a job and pay Sally back after he reached California. And how long would he stay there? And where would h
e go when that didn’t work for him? Abe didn’t have an answer.

  “How much farther to Phoenix?” Abe asked the attendant.

  “’Bout a hunnerd sixty miles due west.” The grisly old-timer counted out change from a twenty. “Jest stay on I-10 and head straight through Tucson on to Phoenix. You got family there, mister?”

  “Nah, passing through. Give me a pack of Camels, filtered, while you’re at it.” He quit smoking years ago, but the idea appealed to him now—might help him relax. “That’ll be it,” he said, accepting change and cigarettes from the old man’s grease-stained hand.

  The sun dropped in the western sky, setting the streaked clouds ablaze and highlighting the strange red-rock formations lining the highway. Abe sped on, chain smoking, unmoved by the spectacular scenery.

  On the outskirts of Phoenix he found a place he could pull off the highway. The city spread ahead of him, an aberration of identical houses and strip malls sucking the life out of the thirsty desert. The endless urban sprawl depressed Abe. He left the rest stop and eased into heavy traffic. “Who could live here, Patch?” Then he thought of Will, held hostage in a hospital room somewhere in this unwelcoming city, and pulled into a convenience store to ask directions to the Phoenix Burn Center.

  After several wrong turns and dead ends, Abe located the hospital. He parked the truck close to the main entrance and entered the lobby. A large semicircular desk with a sign stating “Information” sat in the center of the room. Abe stood in line behind an elderly couple talking to the receptionist and waited for the pair to leave.

  “Yes, what can I do for you?” The attractive young woman behind the desk looked up and caught his eye.