by Larry Darter
An attractive blonde woman, about Wolfe’s age of thirty-five, with lots of curves all in the right places answered the door. “My word, aren’t you a tall drink of water,” the woman said with a flirty smile.
“Morning, ma’am,” Wolfe said, caught a little off guard by the woman’s looks and her unexpected greeting. “I’m Sheriff Wolfe. This is Deputy Alvarez.”
“Sorry,” the woman said with an easy grin. “I’m a little frazzled this morning. I’ve been out of town for a week and just got in from the El Paso airport this morning. Is this about the building permits? Darn it. My contractor said he got all the permits. I swear. Oh, please come in. Where are my manners? I didn’t mean to leave you standing on the porch. Come in.”
Wolfe and Alvarez stepped inside the house. The woman closed the door behind them and ushered them into what appeared to be a study.
“Let me find those darn permits,” the woman said. “I’m sure they are here somewhere in this mess on my desk.”
“Ma’am, we aren’t here about permits,” Wolfe said. “It’s something a little more serious.”
“We’re here investigating a murder,” Alvarez interjected. “We want to speak to the owner of the ranch, Ms.—?”
“Oh, I’m so sorry, I’m Elisabet, Elisabet Bell,” the woman said. “I own the Bar 7. My father passed away last year, and I moved back from Austin to take over. Now, you said a murder? Dear god. Here in the county?”
“We recovered two bodies on your property yesterday morning,” Wolfe said. “Were you aware of it?”
“Good Lord no,” Bell said. “I was in San Antonio on business the past week. I just arrived home a half-hour ago. Two bodies? Where?”
“We pulled them from the stock tank at your well down south near the border,” Wolfe said.
“Oh my God, that’s awful, Sheriff—that’s just awful,” Bell said. “What can I do to help?”
“I’d like to show you some photos to see if you recognize the victims,” Wolfe said. “Maybe they worked on the ranch, or maybe were part of the construction crew. I saw you have some new construction going on here.”
“Sure, anything I can do to help. Let me see them.”
Wolfe brought up the photo of Octavio Lopez on his mobile phone. After Bell studied it for several moments, he showed her the photo of Rudy Martinez. Suddenly, Bell seemed unsteady on her feet. She leaned into Wolfe. He put an arm around her waist to support her.
“Oh dear, I’m feeling as though I might faint,” Bell said. “Can you please help me out back to the deck? I think I need some fresh air.”
Wolfe helped Bell outside to the deck in back and eased her down onto a chair beside a round wooden table. He looked over at Alvarez. She cocked her head and rolled her eyes. Wolfe pulled out a chair and sat down facing Bell. Alvarez remained standing behind Bell’s chair, her arms crossed over her chest looking annoyed.
“You sure you’re okay, Ms. Bell?” Wolfe said.
“Yeah, I don’t know what happened,” she said. “Maybe I’m tired from the traveling, and those photographs. Oh, my.”
“Did you recognize either of the men?”
“No, but I mean they may have worked for the construction company,” Bell said. “My contractor takes care of all that. I have no contact with the construction workers. And, I’ve been away for a week. All I know is they aren’t ranch hands here.”
“I see.”
“Should I be frightened, Sheriff?” Bell said. “My ranch hands don’t live on the ranch. At four they all go home. I’m divorced, so I don’t have a man around for protection. I’m here all alone after four in the afternoon.”
Bell ran the fingers of both hands through her shoulder-length blond hair, then shook her hair from side to side.
“I guess we need to talk with your contractor then to see if they worked on his crew,” Wolfe said. “What company is doing the work?”
“Blair Construction, out of Kimble,” Bell said. “Randy Blair, the owner, is my contractor.”
“Okay, we believe at least one man worked for Blair Construction,” Wolfe said.
“Really? Well, Randy should be here anytime. You could ask him about it when he arrives.”
“Sure,” Wolfe said. “But, after we talk with him you might want to have him send his crew home for the day until we get this cleared up.”
“Absolutely,” Bell said. “But, Sheriff, could you do that for me?”
Bell leaned forward and put a hand on Wolfe’s knee. In the process she gave Wolfe an eyeful of her impressive cleavage.
“I just don’t think I feel up to it right now,” Bell said.
Wolfe glanced up at Alvarez who was rolling her eyes again. Then he looked back at Bell.
“Don’t worry, ma’am,” Wolfe said. “Glad to take care of it for you.”
“Thank you so much,” Bell said removing her hand and leaning back in her chair. “I suppose I just need a little rest. This has all been such a shock.”
“We’ll walk around to the front and wait for Mr. Blair,” Wolfe said. “Then you can get some rest.”
Wolfe and Alvarez walked around the house to the front. They sat down on the edge of the front porch to wait for Blair.
Alvarez sighed loudly.
“What?” Wolfe said. “Is there a problem?”
“You do realize she was flirting with you, right?” Alvarez said.
“She almost fainted.”
“It’s a classic move by women who like playing the helpless female,” Alvarez said.
“I think you are making more of it than there was,” Wolfe said.
“First she almost faints, then she makes a point of telling you she is divorced and all alone,” Alvarez said. “And, she put her hand on your knee. She was flirting all right.”
Wolfe stared at the ground and said nothing.
“I’m just saying,” Alvarez said. “She is cute and about your age. Maybe you should ask her out.”
“Just drop it, Olivia,” Wolfe said. “She wasn’t flirting.”
“Whatever,” Alvarez said. “You should go for it. It’s not like you seem to be interested in anyone else at the moment.”
“Drop it,” Wolfe said.
A red pickup truck with toolboxes and ladders pulled up in front of the house. “Blair Construction” was painted on the side. A stocky man who looked to be in his forties got out. He had short red hair, and a full beard. He was wearing tan coveralls.
“Mr. Blair?” Wolfe said.
“Yes, I’m Randy Blair,” the man said.
“I’m Sheriff Wolfe, and this is Deputy Alvarez,” Wolfe said.
“Morning, Sheriff. What can I do for you?”
“We recovered two bodies on the ranch yesterday morning,” Wolfe said. “I have a couple of photos I need you to look at to see if you recognize the men.”
“Okay,” Blair said.
Wolfe showed him the photo of Lopez first. Blair said he didn’t know him. Then Wolfe showed him the photo of Martinez.
“Yes, that’s Rudy Martinez,” Blair said. “He used to work for me.”
“Used to?”
“Yes, I had to let him go,” Blair said. “I hated to because he was a good framer. But, Rudy got in the habit of not showing up for work. I don’t know what got into him. He acted like he didn’t need the job. I warned him the first two times. The third time he didn’t show up, I let him go and hired a replacement. You can’t run a business having people you can’t depend on to show up for work.”
Wolfe nodded. “Under the circumstances, I will ask you to send your crew home for the day while we try to piece this thing together,” he said.
“I don’t have a problem with it,” Blair said. “But, I must check with Ms. Bell. It would be her decision to make.”
“We’ve already talked with Ms. Bell,” Wolfe said. “She’s in agreement. She isn’t feeling well at the moment and asked me to let you know.”
“All right, good enough then,” Blair said. “I’ll send the b
oys to another job we’ve got going when they get here. They should be here in the next ten minutes.”
“I appreciate it,” Wolfe said.
“Was Rudy one of the men you found dead, Sheriff?” Blair said. “What happened?”
“Rudy Martinez was one of the victims,” Wolfe said. “But, it’s an active investigation. I can’t say more than that.”
“I understand,” Blair said.
Wolfe shook hands with Blair then he and Alvarez got in the Tahoe for the drive back to town. Wolfe noticed Alvarez wasn’t her usual chatty self.
“Anything wrong?” Wolfe said.
“Wrong?” Alvarez said. “What could possibly be wrong?”
“Well, you haven’t said a word since we left the ranch,” Wolfe said.
Alvarez glared at him for a moment, but said nothing. She turned and stared out the passenger window. Wolfe was sure she was angry about something. He knew he didn’t understand much about women, but he understood enough to know when a woman was upset about something, and wasn’t ready to talk about it. They drove the rest of the way to the sheriff’s department in silence.
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A swarthy, muscular Hispanic man of about thirty walked into the motel lobby. He was wearing a black nylon track suit with athletic shoes and carried a small gym bag and a long rectangular plastic case. He stopped at the desk and took off his dark tinted aviator-style sunglasses revealing eyes so dark they looked almost black. The female clerk hung up the phone and smiled.
“Did you have a reservation, sir?”
“No,” the man said in accented English.
“That’s all right, I’m sure we have a room available. We have a special if you’re staying by the week.”
“I’m not sure how long I’ll be in town,” the man said. “Let’s take it day to day.”
“All right, sir,” the clerk said. “Then our best rate is seventy-two dollars a night.”
“That’s fine.”
“Will you be putting that on a credit card?”
“No, cash.”
“All right, all I need is an identification card and we’ll get you registered,” the clerk said.
The man laid a Mexico driver’s license on the counter. The clerk picked it up and typed on the keypad in front of the computer.
“Ya’ll getting any rain down your way?” she said.
“Which way would that be?”
“Well, from the license I assumed you’re up from Mexico,” the woman said. She made a copy of the license on the photo copier below the counter then handed it back to the man.
“What business is it of yours where I’m from?” the man said.
“I meant nothing by it,” the woman said, feeling uncomfortable now at the man’s demeanor. “I was only passing the time of day.”
“How much do I owe you?” the man said.
“That will be seventy-six dollars and seventy-eight cents with the tax, Mr.Gutierrez.”
The man peeled a one hundred-dollar bill off a bundle of folded currency and laid in on the counter. The woman opened the register and counted back his change. The man picked it up and put it into his front pocket.
“Will there be anything else?” the clerk said.
“I don’t know,” the man said. “Will there?”
“Is there something wrong?”
“With what?”
“With anything.”
“Is there something wrong with anything?” the man said. “Is that what you’re asking me?”
“Will there be anything else?” the clerk said nervously.
“You asked me that already,” the man said. He put his sunglasses back on. “No, there will be nothing else.”
He picked up the bag and the case then turned and left the lobby with the key card.
4.4
Wolfe walked into the deputies’ office and said, “My DEA contact in Dallas called with intel on Octavio Lopez. He definitely worked for the Mexican Cartel. His job was recruiting distributors and pushing fentanyl and precursor chemicals north across the border to supply them.”
“Guess that shoots down the theory the cartel was behind the murders,” Riggs said. “Why would they kill one of their own guys?”
“Maybe Rudy and Octavio double-crossed the cartel somehow,” Carpenter said. “Maybe they cheated them out of money or stole product.”
“Or maybe it wasn’t the work of the cartel,” Alvarez said. “The killer could be someone we still don’t know about yet.”
“We need to find out who Rudy’s partner was,” Wolfe said. “He might be the missing piece of the puzzle.”
“You think his partner might be the killer, Sheriff?” Riggs said.
Wolfe said, “Right now I think we have two good possibilities for a suspect. Rudy’s partner and El Fantasma.”
“Who’s El Fantasma?” Elisabet Bell said.
Wolfe turned in surprise to look at Bell standing in the doorway.
“Ms. Bell,” Wolfe said. “Can we help you?”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Bell said. “I’m sorry I interrupted. It’s just, um, Wendell, one of my ranch hands told me something this morning I thought you might want to know about. I wrote down some notes so I wouldn’t forget anything.”
Bell reached into her purse and pulled out a slip of paper.
“Wend—,” Bell began but stopped when she dropped the paper which fluttered to the floor. “Oh, shoot,” she said.
Wolfe bent over and picked up the paper. He handed it back to Bell.
“Thank you,” Bell beamed. “Anyway, Wendell—Wendell saw something odd on the south range the other day. He told me he saw someone towing an old camping trailer across the property. Is that important?”
Bell offered the slip of paper to Wolfe. He took it.
“We are interested in finding a camping trailer that’s connected with the case,” Wolfe said.
“Oh, good,” Bell said with a smile. “Maybe I’ve helped you then.”
“You didn’t have to drive all the way into town, Ms. Bell,” Wolfe said. “Next time call and someone will come out to the ranch to speak with you.”
“Well, I also have something else for you,” Bell said smiling widely.
“Uh, okay,” Wolfe said uneasily. He glanced around the room. Riggs and Alvarez turned away as if they suddenly fascinated with looking at the paint on the wall. Carpenter stood staring at him with his arms crossed, an amused smile on his lips.
Bell leaned in closer to Wolfe and whispered, “Do you have like an office where we could have a little more privacy?”
“Uh, yeah,” Wolfe said pointing toward the doorway. “It’s, uh, down the hallway there.”
Wolfe escorted Bell to his office. He pointed to the doorway when they got there.
“It’s just, right in there,” he said.
“Oh, okay,” Bell said proceeding Wolfe into his office. She looked around the room. “Well, look at this. It’s—well, it’s minimalist but—um, functional.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Bell turned to face Wolfe and said, “I didn’t want to do this back there in front of them.”
“Oh, okay, yeah,” Wolfe said with an embarrassed chuckle. Looking out he saw his three deputies all standing in the hallway outside their office looking back at him. Wolfe reached out and closed his door quietly.
“I recognized that guy in there from his posters,” Bell said. “He’s the one running against you for sheriff.”
“Uh, yeah, Chase,” Wolfe said.
“Anyway, I was very impressed with the way you handled things yesterday,” Bell said reaching into her purse and pulling out a checkbook. “So, I want to give you a check, a contribution for your campaign.”
Bell filled in a check.
“Ah, that’s unnecessary, Ms. Bell,” Wolfe said. “It’s—”
“Call me Liz,” Bell said continuing to write. “I swear. I don’t know what my mother was thinking when she named me Elisabet. All my teachers in school thought my n
ame was Elisabeth, and that I kept leaving the ‘h’ off the end. So, I prefer Liz.”
Bell ripped the check out of the book and handed it to Wolfe. “Take it, I insist,” she said smiling.
Wolfe nodded and took the check. “Thank you, Liz.”
“Anyway, maybe we could, uh, get together one night for a drink or dinner,” Bell said.
Wolfe smiled and nodded uncomfortably. Bell dropped the checkbook back into her purse then looked up at Wolfe with another big smile.
“I like to stay informed about the issues,” she said.
“Off course,” Wolfe said grinning foolishly.
“Well—guess I’ll let you get back to your work, Sheriff,” Bell said turning toward the door.
Wolfe reached out quickly and opened the door for her. She smiled up at him and went out. As they passed the doorway to the deputies’ office, they noticed the deputies all huddled together just inside it looking out at them.
Bell smiled at them. “Bye now,” she said to them with a little wave.
“Bye,” the three grinning deputies said in unison.
After seeing Bell to the door in the lobby, Wolfe returned to the deputies’ office.
“Who was that, Owen?” Carpenter said. “She’s a good-looking woman.”
“Owen’s new girlfriend,” Alvarez said testily.
“Olivia, I asked you to drop it,” Wolfe said. “She’s just a registered voter, Chase. That’s all.”
“Well now,” Carpenter said with a sly grin. “If you aren’t interested in dating her, maybe you could introduce us.”
“I don’t think you’re Liz’s type, Chase,” Wolfe said.
“Oh, it’s Liz now is it?” Alvarez said with a thin smile. She sat down on her chair, then stood right back up. She grabbed Carpenter’s hat off her desk and flung it at him. Then she stomped out of the office.
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