Anacacho, An Allie Armington Mystery

by Louise Gaylord

  I must doze a little because I jerk awake at Jed’s shout. “Hey, people. Great news. We’re finally back in the good ol’ U. S. of A.”

  I never thought I’d be so glad to hear those words. I’ve been gone less than a week, but it seems like a century.

  Despite my euphoria, I whine, “How much longer?”

  Jed laughs. “Wow, that’s one right out of my little boy’s mouth.”

  What a shocker. I assumed Jed was single since he was in such a dangerous line of work. Besides he doesn’t look old enough to be married, much less have children.

  “How old is your son?”

  “Four. His baby sister turned two yesterday. I was hoping to be there to celebrate. Thank the Lord I have an understanding wife.”

  “She must worry.”

  “She’s used to it. Grew up in a law enforcement family. Her dad was a Texas Ranger.”

  I pause, wondering what to say next. “Was” could mean killed in the line of duty, dead, or retired—hopefully the latter.

  Jed saves me. “Cotton was supposed to be at the party. He’s my daughter’s godfather.”

  My heart flutters against my chest as the unasked flies forward. “So, is he married too?”

  He gives a wry chuckle. “If you want to call it that.”

  Not at all what I wanted to hear about the sheriff, but it makes his actions toward me, or lack thereof, more understandable.

  Jed breaks into my rationalizations. “Worst mistake he ever made. He met Julia Lee on a blind date when we were at Quantico. She couldn’t wait to let you know she was a direct descendent of Robert E. Lee and a real Virginia blue blood. She even tried to get Bill to drop Cotton and take her name. Said she just couldn’t feature herself being Julia Lee Cotton for the rest of her life. I thought that would tear it right then. But it didn’t. He thought it was funny.

  “They had only dated two weeks before they eloped. Her family was fit to be tied. Only daughter marrying some hick Texan instead of a FFV... sorry, First Family of Virginia. Hell, as far as I was concerned, outside of being one of the best-looking broads I’ve ever seen, she didn’t have one redeeming feature.” “Then he’s divorced?”

  “Almost five years. After a couple of months, she moved back to the plantation. He took it real bad. It was a long time before he got over that bitch.

  “When we were assigned to this project, it was like manna from heaven. He eats, sleeps, and breathes this job. Hasn’t looked at another woman since.”

  I want to say, “Oh, yes he has.” Instead a shiver shinnies up my spine as I conjure up Bill, his eyes marrying mine, his voice echoing in my ear, I know more about you than you can ever imagine.

  “Will the sheriff be meeting us?” I croak, congratulating my instincts. Knowing now there is definitely something brewing between Bill and me.

  Jed shakes his head. “I doubt it. No way to contact him. We’ll probably have to hoof it to the highway and hitch a ride into Uvalde.”

  Again I ask. “How much longer?”

  “About fifteen minutes... if we’re lucky.”

  I check my watch. Almost ten o’clock. I’m not at all happy about Jed’s “if we’re lucky.”

  After what seems like the Iron Age, Jed shouts, “I can see the Uvalde beacon; too bad we can’t land there.” “Why can’t we?”

  “This plane is listed as stolen property.” “But it belongs to Paul.”

  “Gibbs reported it stolen before we could get to him.”

  I turn my attentions to the sea of darkness below. “How will you find the Anacacho strip in the dark?”

  “There’s a mercury vapor light on the strip side of the hangar.

  Works on a photo-cell. Perfect guide to the runway. Don’t worry, I can land this plane blindfolded.”

  The drone of the motor deepens as we descend. Then, to my horror, the prop feathers and dies.

  Jed’s voice is dead calm. “Don’t worry, we’ll make it. Just sit tight until we meet the ground and come to a stop.”

  Behind me, Miguel and Adelena join in a Hail Mary.

  I send up a small prayer and brace myself.

  The air rushing past is the only other sound, but the Piper remains rock steady. Not one waggle. Like a feather, we float toward the bright light ahead.

  The wheels screech against pavement, but with no motor, the flaps give little resistance, and we roll on.

  “What if we hit something?”

  “Nothing to hit but a cow. Keep cool. There’s still plenty of runway left. I promise.”

  I relax, peer out the window, then petrify. Driving slowly alongside the Piper is the dark, grim specter of a Suburban.

  Chapter 34

  I TAP JED ON THE SHOULDER, then lean close to his ear. “Company to our right.”

  He peers into the darkness. “Damn. We’re bone dry and at the mercy of whoever’s behind that wheel.” He cranes again. “What bothers me is, Suburbans are the druggies’ vehicle of choice.”

  As the plane squeaks to a stop, the Suburban, headlights still dark, continues in a slow arcing turn, then halts about ninety feet in front of the Piper.

  Jed twists to face me and says, “Okay, this is what I see. My automatic’s loaded and I have a couple of boxes of ammo under the seat. But if I fire first, we’ll all be dead the next minute. Canvas isn’t much protection against bullets.”

  From the back Miguel offers, “Why don’t we men get out first? See who it is. Maybe they’ll think it’s just the two of us.” “I’m sure they’ve spotted a woman in here with me. Since you two are so far back in the plane, I’d lay good odds they don’t know about you. The best bet is for Allie to get out with me.”

  “You take charge of the automatic and the ammo, Miguel.” He pauses. “You can shoot, can’t you?”

  “Since I was ten years old, Señor.”

  “That’s good enough for me. At least you’ll get a few shots off if you have to.”

  Jed lets his shoulder holster slip down his arm, then leans forward. “Try to stay in the same position you’re in now, everybody. Allie, without making too many moves, drag the holster along the floor beside you until Adelena can reach it. Next, slide the ammo boxes along. I’ll try to distract them by going through check-out and shut-down motions.”

  Miguel says, “I have the automatic and the bullets, Señor Jed. Ready when you are.”

  Jed opens the door flaps, then locks the top flap in place. “Good luck everybody. Keep a cool head.”

  He steps onto the tarmac, then helps me down to stand beside him to face whatever comes next. For a few endless seconds it’s just the two of us, ruffled by a gentle breeze from the south, with the noise of the Suburban’s idling engine the only sound.

  I let out a sigh of relief. “So far so good. At least they haven’t turned on their headlights.”

  The roar of the Suburban engine, accompanied by the glare of hi-beams, catapults us into action.

  Jed yells, “Head for the tail. I’ll take the other side. Grab on to me there.”

  We make the tail, throw ourselves across the rear fuselage, and lock arms, just as the Suburban, engine screaming, headlights blinding, rams.

  The next moments are slow-motion as the nose collapses inward with a sickening, crick-snap-crunch, then the plane gives a sluggish shudder and groans resistance as its tires begin to reluctantly roll in reverse beneath the weight of the heavy car. As Piper Cub and Suburban pick up momentum, Jed and I are shoved backward down the tarmac toward the hangar, our rag-doll-feet bouncing crazily in front of us. To let go means death beneath the Suburban’s wheels—to hang on means only a few minutes more of life. I steel myself for what I pray will be a painless exit.

  Brakes screech, jamming my body into a contorted jackknife. Jed loosens his grip and murmurs, “Hit the ground, roll to your side and remain motionless. It’s our only chance.”

  I do as he says.

  Whoever is inside, revs the engine to peak rpm, sending a rush of heat over me. There’s nothing
to do but lie there and wait.

  After what seems an eternity, gears grind as the Suburban slams into reverse. Two more revs and the dark menace roars into the night, leaving the wounded plane in the glow of the mercury vapor light.

  Jed finally offers a hoarse, “Hot damn. It worked. But I can’t figure why they stopped. A few more feet and we would’ve been history.”

  “Maybe they were worried about damaging their engine.” “Could be. You okay?”

  “I guess.” I roll to a sitting position, then try to stand, but my knees fail and I hit the ground.

  Jed steps toward me and I croak, “I’m fine. Better check Miguel and Adelena.”

  He ducks beneath the wing, and after a few grunts punctuated by expletives, heads for the hangar and comes back with a crowbar and flashlight.

  “I’m going to try and pry the seat forward. Hold the light so I can see what I’m doing.”

  I stagger toward him and grab the flashlight. “Are they all right?”

  “Miguel’s okay. Adelena’s out.”

  Jed works for a good five minutes before the seat begins to inch forward and Adelena’s hesitant moan turns into a shrill wail.

  I hear my own scream. “My God, can’t you see she’s caught under there?”

  Jed’s reply is a calm contrast. “Let’s not panic the subject, okay? Focus the light down here.”

  I get his message, compose myself, then move the light down to reveal an even worse situation than I imagined. Adelena’s right thigh is exposed beneath ripped denim. It’s badly contused and angled in an unnatural position.

  Jed’s terse, “We need help bad,” says it all. “Is there a phone in the hangar?”

  “No.”

  “The closest house is the Dardens’.”

  He shakes his head. “Dardens? Don’t know ’em.” “Well, I do. But I don’t know the area very well.”

  Jed leans into the cockpit. “We’re going to get water, Miguel. Be right back. Okay?” He motions me to follow him.

  When we enter the hangar, Jed says, “Did you see that thigh? It’s a compound fracture at best. No telling what’s with the other leg, or what internal injuries she might have sustained from the seat being jammed into her.”

  He heads for a water cooler that stands beneath a long shelf, pulls down a small Thermos, fills it, and hands it to me. “Not much in the way of help, but at least we’ve got something to give them.”

  He extracts four plastic cups from a dispenser, grabs a small stack of cloths from the shelf, then places them in my arms. “Do the best you can for them. I’ll be back.”

  “But you don’t know where to go.” “Don’t worry, I was a Boy Scout.”

  “Just a minute here. I’ve known the Dardens for years, and I have a general idea which way their house is. I’m the one who should go.”

  “Man, are you a pain. Okay, okay. Don’t guess anything much could get you but a rattler or a coyote.”

  “I’ll be back as soon as I get help.”

  We part at the hangar entrance, Jed heading toward the badly damaged plane and I toward what I pray is the Dardens’ house.

  Once I adjust to the darkness, I see a road to the right and remember Reena saying there was a back road between the airstrip and Anacacho that ran past the Dardens’ barn.

  Minutes later, I stand at the back steps of the Dardens’ house, clasping my ribs and gasping for breath. The light in the kitchen is almost blinding after my long haul in the darkness.

  Del’s voice trails from the living room. “And get us a couple of beers will ya, honey?”

  At the sound of Susie’s quick step, I’m about to open the screen door, longing to reconnect with my old friend, then hesitate when she enters the kitchen. Susie is not happy.

  I back quickly into the shadows and watch her yank open the refrigerator door, snatch two longnecks from the shelf and slam them on the counter. She stands a moment, hands on hips, takes several deep breaths, then shakes her head.

  Del’s entreaty is honey-coated. “What’s taking you so long, Suze? Don’t leave us in the desert dying of thirst.”

  “Hold your horses, I’m on my way.” She flips off the two bottle caps, plants a smile on her face and, taking a bottle in each hand, hurries toward the living room.

  I sidle down the back steps, make my way along a side path to the front of the house and have one foot on the steps when I see it. Parked next to Del’s truck is a dark Suburban.

  Chapter 35

  I FREEZE, thankful I haven’t given myself away. Another ten steps and I stand in front of the ruptured grill. Whoever tried to kill us is in that house.

  The grim realization that Del might also be in on this mess adds to my dilemma. He tried to warn me away from the hideaway, not once but twice. There was no doubt he meant business. Why didn’t I remember that until now?

  I scuttle to the side porch and slide into the bushes. The living room windows are cracked to let in the south breeze and I can make out some of the conversation.

  Susie is saying, “Got to get these boys to bed. Nice to meet you, sir.”

  A deep, courtly voice resonates, “And you, too, ma’am.” Needles sting my scalp as my stomach gives a sickened wrench. I know that voice. Ray Gibbs.

  “Please,” Susie says. “Don’t get up. Enjoy your beer. Goodnight.”

  Her steps fade, then a distant door slams. “Mighty pretty wife you have, Darden.”

  “Thank you, sir. I’m proud to call her mine.” There’s a wariness in Del’s voice. “Now, what can I do for you?”

  “Not a thing. I’m just grateful I saw your lights. I didn’t know where else to go. Sure do appreciate your hospitality.”

  He saw their lights from the road? No way. Something’s definitely fishy. The ensuing silence seems like forever. I wonder if Del is thinking the same thing.

  Finally silky-tongue says, “I was just wondering, did you happen to hear a small plane fly overhead within the last hour?”

  After another long pause, Del answers. “Can’t say I did.”

  “I’m sure you know, there’s been some concern about drug trafficking through the Anacacho.”

  Del’s head pops into view. I see the puzzlement on his face and slump with relief. “I’ve heard something about it. I used to foreman that property.”

  “You don’t say?”

  “I haven’t been over there for more than a year.”

  “Glad to hear that. It’s become a dangerous place to be since Carpenter was killed. If I were you I’d steer clear of the airstrip.” Another pause. “Just a friendly piece of advice.”

  “And I thank you for it, sir, but as I said before, I haven’t been on that property for over a year and I don’t intend to start now.” There’s a creaking sound of someone rising from a chair and Ray Gibbs fills the rest of the window. “I’m mighty glad to hear you say that.”

  I watch him turn toward the front door, then disappear from view.

  The screen door squeaks, then heavy feet hit the porch and pause. “Thank you for the beer. Hit the spot. Good evening.”

  I count Gibbs’s six steps down the front stoop to the path, then ten more to the Suburban. The door opens and shuts, the motor rolls over, then tires crunch gravel as the vehicle moves down the lane.

  I wait until the taillights disappear, then make the steps two at a time to see a dazed Del standing at the open door. “Hi.”

  He startles back, face paling. “Whoa there. Allie, is that you? Are you all right? We heard you were over in Laredo on a case and got kidnapped.”

  “I guess you could say that. How did you hear?”

  Del pushes open the screen door. “Deputy came by. Said you were in a taxi on the way to the airport and the driver was killed. Asked if we’d heard from you. We didn’t know what to think.”

  Only Gibbs would know the details. No one else could have associated the dead taxi driver with me. I slide past Del into the living room.

  “Listen, Del, I’m in desperate ne
ed of help. I was in that plane I heard Gibbs ask you about. That bastard tried to kill us. Actually, he thinks he did.”

  The shock on Del’s face is a true comfort.

  “I heard him warn you away from the Anacacho strip, but I don’t think he’ll go back there since he thinks we’re dead.” “Dead?”

  “There are four of us. One badly hurt. Can you help me get her to the nearest hospital?”

  “But, Gibbs said not to go out there.”

  “Please, Del. Don’t waste any more time. The woman may be dying.”

  That seems to get his attention. “I’ll tell Susie.”

  He starts for a door to one side of the living room, but I clamp a hand on his shoulder. “The less she knows about this, the better. Okay?”

  He nods and calls out. “Hey, Suze? I’m taking the truck out to the barn. Back in a minute.”

  Her cheery, “Take your time, we’re having baths,” filters through the boys’ screams and splashes.

  Del and I ride in silence to the barn, but when he turns right toward the airstrip, he barrages me with questions. “How do you know that man?”

  I shoot back, “How do you know him?”

  “I don’t. I mean I didn’t until about a few minutes ago. But it’s obvious you do.”

  “Unfortunately. Gibbs is Paul’s lawyer. Lives in Laredo.”

  “Is Paul’s lawyer? But Paul’s dead. Allie, are you sure you’re okay?”

  “I’m telling you, Paul’s not dead. At least I hope and pray he’s not. He was alive a few hours ago. I’ll tell you everything once we get Adelena to the hospital.”

  “Adelena? You mean Paul’s Adelena? But she and Miguel have been missing for over a year.”

  In minutes the headlight beams bounce along the back side of the hangar, then Del turns onto the tarmac. The eerie glow from the vapor light outlines the ruptured Piper until the truck lights blaze it into gleaming yellow. Beneath the wing I see Jed, standing in a pool of blood, leaning into the cockpit.

  Del lets out a low, “Jeez.”

  I throw open the door tossing an order over my shoulder, “Pull as close as you can to the plane. We need your headlights—” then leap from the truck before it’s fully stopped.