8 Sweet Payback

by Connie Shelton

  Upstairs, she put on the same jeans and work shirt she’d worn yesterday. Rummaging in her drawer for a pair of clean socks she touched the deputy’s badge Beau had given her once when she helped him with a case. At the time she’d suspected that the old piece of metal was hers more as a spoof, something to semi-officially give her access to evidence that she shouldn’t otherwise see. She didn’t actually work for his department.

  On the other hand . . . maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to have it with her now, as long as she had to drive through Sembramos a couple of times a day. She pinned it to the waistband of her jeans and let the shirttail cover it. Just in case.

  The April weather had taken another of its sudden turns, Sam discovered when she walked outside. Clouds scudded in from the west, driven by a brisk wind that whipped the tender buds on the apple tree by the barn. So typical of the Rocky Mountain climate—March winds, April showers, and May flowers, all at once, all competing. She buttoned her jacket and checked her truck and trailer for supplies.

  Since the big house had no landscaping or electricity, there really was no need for lawn mower, rakes or vacuum cleaner. She pulled brooms and her biggest mop and bucket from the trailer’s storage box, stashing them in the back of the truck. It would be far easier to maneuver the circular drive up there on the hill without the trailer. Taking a minute to consider the job, it occurred to her that without electricity up at that house, there would be no way to pump water from the well and that would mean taking water with her for mopping. She filled a couple of five-gallon buckets that had lids, checked the dogs’ water bowl while she had the hose uncoiled, then took a deep breath, climbed in the truck and headed out.

  Sembramos seemed quiet this morning. Sam gave a little wave to Deputy Rico when she passed his vehicle, parked in front of the patched-up taxidermy shop. He raised two fingers in acknowledgement. Otherwise, she saw what appeared to be a normal scattering of cars at the grocery store, the bank and in the school’s parking lot. She hoped Beau was right—things might settle down once the Starkey family had buried Jessie. She wondered if this little town had its own cemetery or if the service would take place in Taos.

  Beyond the town limits the highway was clear, not a single car passing Sam as she drove north. She spotted the white dome of the house from more than a mile away. Easier, now that she knew what she was looking for. She wondered about it—as she often did with these properties. Who had gone to the effort and expense to build such a place and then never move into it?

  She steered off the highway and her truck climbed the hill to the circle that led to the open courtyard and the massive front door. Her new key worked smoothly and she carried her brooms inside. The place seemed even larger today, with the prospect of having to manually sweep and mop all that tile. She’d decided to start with the kitchen when her phone rang. Delbert Crow.

  “What’s the progress on the LG property?” he asked, not bothering with a hello first.

  “The what?” Her push broom fell over, the wooden handle hitting tile with a loud clatter.

  “LG Properties. That’s how the ownership is listed. I hear it’s quite a place.”

  “You could say that.” She gave a quick description of what she’d found, including her estimate that she had nearly ten thousand square feet of dusty tile to clean. “What’s the story with it anyway? It’s new construction. No one’s ever lived here.”

  “Weird.” Papers rustled in the background. “It’s not a loan default. The land and property were paid for. It’s going to auction for back taxes.”

  “I wonder how long it’s been here, empty like this?”

  “No idea,” Delbert said. “My file just shows taxes in arrears for four years. So, that’s what I’m calling about—we need to push this thing. The auction is set for a week from tomorrow.” No appreciation for the extra effort, just a click as he hung up.

  Sam stared at the expanse of dirty floor in front of her, wondering as she started to work why she hadn’t been assigned the job earlier. A little more lead time would have been helpful. An image of her wooden jewelry box popped into her head. She hadn’t called upon its powers since their trip to Ireland, when she’d discovered that another box existed. Something about that—and the fact that she’d almost obtained the second one as well—had spooked her a little. Until she knew more about the powers of those things she wanted to be careful.

  She’d hardly finished that thought when her phone rang again. As if the woman had read her mind, it was Cora Abernathy. The hairs on her arms rose.

  “Ms. Sweet?” The elderly librarian’s voice sounded excited. “I think I’ve found some information for you, if you want to stop by later on.”

  Not the best time to drop everything and rush off in search of Bertha Martinez’s acquaintances, but Sam had set this ball in motion and the woman had gone to some work on her behalf. She explained about being tied up with the job and being away from Taos at the moment, but promised to get by the library within a day or so.

  Cora seemed a little disappointed that Sam wasn’t a block away and ready to rush over at that moment. She probably found herself becoming interested in the subjects she researched for her patrons and shared in their excitement when she was able to find what they needed. Sam made a mental note to take the lady a bakery treat when she went by to pick up the information.

  Thinking of the bakery reminded her that she hadn’t checked in with her crew since yesterday’s crazy-divorcée incident. A quick call assured her that things were running smoothly so far. The day was young, though, she reminded herself as she told Jen to call her if they hit a snag.

  She’d finished the kitchen floor and thought she might tackle the master suite upstairs—putting off the inevitable task of that massive great room—when her phone rang yet again. What did people do before cell phones? Came home to dozens of messages, as she recalled.

  Beau asked how things were going, said he was checking to be sure no one had bothered her in town or up at the property. He asked if she would want to meet him in town for lunch in thirty minutes. She begged off, describing the amount of labor ahead of her. She’d tossed two granola bars into her pack this morning. That would have to suffice for a few more hours.

  She did take a moment to ask how things were going in Sembramos.

  “At the moment, all is quiet. The Starkey clan seems pretty subdued. I saw a bunch of them milling around the house this morning, some actually wearing suits. The funeral service is in Taos at two o’clock. Then burial in the Sembramos cemetery. After that, I imagine the drinking will start and that’s when I expect we’ll see what the real mood is.”

  “I don’t envy you.”

  “Well, if you can, finish up and get through town before it gets too late—”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  Among the choices—going through the old case file on Angela Cayne, stopping at the newspaper office to follow up on that story, visiting Cora Abernathy to find out what the librarian had to offer, or sweeping and mopping floors—Sam would have chosen nearly anything except the one she was stuck with at the moment. Tomorrow, she would call upon the box for help.

  She stepped up her pace and had finished the master suite by noon. Taking a break for granola bars and water, she convinced herself that was enough lunch and then tackled the main room. She’d mopped about half of it when she ran out of clean water. Checking the time, she decided Beau was right. It was four o’clock and she should get going. She collected her empty buckets and left the other tools behind. Her lower back and shoulders were screaming and tomorrow loomed as another very long day.

  This time, driving through Sembramos she followed Beau’s directive and went straight through without a pause. Once again, she saw Rico’s patrol car at the side of the road, and this time there were almost no other people in sight. Maybe the whole town was on alert for trouble from the Starkeys. Maybe the Rodarte sympathizers were somewhere else, brewing up trouble of their own. Sam only knew she didn’t h
ave the energy for any of it.

  She arrived at home, accepted kisses from both dogs, and went straight for the shower and the ibuprofen. She now felt clean and achy. She picked up her jewelry box from the bathroom vanity and held it for a long moment. When the wooden surface began to glow and Sam felt the warmth travel up her arms she set it down, aches and pains only a dull twinge now. She almost had the energy to drive into Taos and check with the librarian, but it was late and the woman would have gone home. There would be another day for that.

  She wandered downstairs, slightly at loose ends until Beau came home. If he was able to break away anytime soon. She picked up her phone and speed-dialed his.

  “So far, so good,” he said when she asked about the situation. “Starkeys just got back to their house from the cemetery. Joe got a little loud when he saw my cruiser on their street. I’m waiting on Withers and Rayburn to come out and give me a break. I should be home by seven.”

  She said she would have dinner ready. A peek into the fridge and pantry narrowed the choices to leftover pizza or canned soup. She really needed to get to the store. The pizza didn’t look appealing so she opened the soup and added a little extra seasoning to it; biscuit mix could be dressed up a little to go with it and she could make it seem like a real meal. Fortunately, Beau was pretty easy to please in the food department.

  Unfortunately, he called at six-thirty to say that there was no way he would get home for awhile. Someone had set the Starkey house on fire.

  Chapter 11

  Beau came dragging in around eleven. Soot clung to his uniform and outlined the wrinkles near his eyes.

  “Lee Rodarte and four of his cousins rode through town on their motorcycles, very noisy and visible, and naturally they had words with several Starkey supporters,” he said as he hung his jacket on the rack near the door. “The fire broke out shortly after, although no one saw who threw the beer bottle full of gas through a back window.”

  “Oh my gosh, Beau. Was it bad?”

  “Everyone got out okay but half the house is in ruins. Helen and Joe had to move in with Bobby, Joe’s brother. I give that about two days before everyone starts bickering.”

  “Two whole days?” She wiped at the black smudges on his face.

  “The squabbling among the Starkeys is the least of my worries. I couldn’t believe Lee came back and started trouble. I thought Sophie had him convinced to stay away until things cooled off.” Beau started up the stairs and Sam followed.

  “Did you get anything to eat?” She offered the remains of the chicken noodle soup and biscuits.

  “The guy who owns the café sent his wife over with burritos for us. I had the whole department out by this time. For the night I’ve got State Police from Taos. This gets much worse I’ll have to call them up from Espanola and Vegas too. At least for the moment I think all the Starkeys are sleeping it off over at Bobby’s place.” He peeled off his smoky clothes and tossed them into the laundry basket, then stepped into the shower.

  One whiff and Sam knew she couldn’t sleep in the room with the dirty uniform. She carried the basket down to the laundry room.

  On the end table by the couch, Beau’s cell phone rang. The readout said it was Rico so Sam answered it.

  “When he gets out of the shower, tell him we didn’t have any luck apprehending Lee Rodarte or any of his group. The bikes cleared out. If the sheriff wants to release me to go back to Taos, I can search for them there.”

  Sam passed the message along as Beau toweled himself off.

  “Nah. Not tonight. I wouldn’t send Rico after them alone anyway—too dangerous. We’ll let things cool off overnight, get whatever evidence we can collect from the fire, and I’ll pursue this in the morning.”

  “Beau?” She made him meet her gaze. “I don’t like it, you being in the middle of this.”

  “Darlin’, it’s going to be fine. I can take care of myself. We can’t just sit back and let anarchy take over.”

  For every lawman killed in the line of duty, she would bet most of them had uttered those words. She crawled into bed and held him very close.

  * * *

  Beau followed Sam’s red truck the next morning, from their driveway all the way through to the northern end of Sembramos. He didn’t like the look of the town. Windows were broken in more than one shop, and signs of a small fire showed at the gas station. His body tensed as he surveyed the damage. He needed to get Sam away from here and then call a meeting of his men. He dialed Sam’s phone and cautioned her again to lock herself into the house where she would be cleaning most of the day.

  “Call me when you get ready to leave. Depending on the situation, I can have an escort bring you back through and get you home safely.”

  She started to say she would be fine, but he wished he’d taken some time to familiarize her with one of his pistols and insist that she carry it. It was something they should address soon. He watched the red truck until she went around a bend in the road, then he U-turned and found Rico’s cruiser parked by the bank.

  “Some things going on here that I didn’t hear about?” he asked, approaching his deputy but keeping an eye on everything around him.

  “Sheriff, sorry. Every time I stopped to call you something else happened. We were getting calls from dispatch all night. Broken window over here, next thing it’s a B&E over there. It felt like we were stomping out fires all night.”

  “Literally. I saw the one by the gas station.”

  “Luckily, the volunteer fire department had just come from the Starkey place early this morning. We don’t know if the gas station fire was accidental or on purpose. A lady was filling her tank and then started screaming. Station attendant got right on it and kept it small. FD came along and checked it out. The woman could have been so nervous that she messed up. We don’t really know.”

  “We have anyone under arrest for this?” He nodded toward broken shop windows across the street.

  “No one. Every time something happened we’d rush over, but whoever did it would be gone. It’s almost like they were purposely running us around.”

  “Any major incidents?”

  “Mostly little stuff. And I’m not sure we know all of it yet, boss. Calls were still coming in an hour ago, someone waking up to find a car vandalized or lawn furniture all broken up.”

  Seemed like everyone in town had taken a side in this mess and was now causing grief for the others.

  “I’m calling in some help,” Beau said. “You guys need to go home and get some rest.”

  Rico looked relieved at the suggestion.

  “Hang around another few minutes,” Beau said. He keyed his radio and put in a call to the state police in Taos. The chief agreed to send enough men for a day shift to relieve Beau’s deputies. Once that was arranged, Beau told Rico he could leave.

  He watched the deputy drive away, then Beau made a slow cruise through town. Two other deputies reported the same kind of news Rico had given. After speaking with each man he released him to go home, told him to get some sleep and plan to be back by dark. If the violence escalated he would call in the National Guard.

  Belatedly, Beau decided he should coordinate all this with the town bigwigs. He couldn’t recall ever having met the mayor or town councilors. He checked the county telephone directory and found the number for the town hall. A cautious female voice answered. As soon as Beau explained who he was, the call went right to the mayor. Within a minute, Beau had directions and an appointment.

  “I just can’t believe this is happening in our town,” said the short woman with the pageboy haircut and lipstick that was a tad too bright. She’d introduced herself as Consuelo Brown and ushered Beau into a room off the lobby of the so-called town hall.

  The entire facility occupied one section of a small strip shopping center, next to the ice cream parlor. Beau couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen it on his other passes through town, but that’s how small it was. The governing offices consisted of a lobby with a desk, where peopl
e probably came to pay their water bill or get a permit for something, and the office where he now sat with the mayor. Across the room, a table with four chairs crowded around it probably served as the town council’s meeting space.

  When he mentioned the state of lawlessness that had prevailed overnight, Ms. Brown became flustered. “I got elected here, Sheriff, because nobody else ran for the office. Really, the most complicated thing I’ve done in months is to give a speech at a boy’s Eagle Scout induction. I have no idea how to handle this, and two of my three councilors are out of town right now.”

  He recapped what Rico and the other deputies had told him, ending by telling her about calling in the state police. Her hands fluttered above the surface of her desk and he swore her lip trembled a little more with each thing he revealed.

  “I suggest that we call a town meeting,” he said. “See if we can’t calm things down. If that doesn’t work, I’ll have to call in the National Guard to keep order.”

  Her lip was definitely trembling now.

  “I’ll do the talking if you’d like,” he said. “Now, how shall we get the word out about the meeting? Where and when would you suggest we hold it?”

  With something definite to think about, Ms. Brown settled down a little. “Well, there’s the automated telephone system we use to advise when we have weather closures for school. Every family with a child in school gets called. When the trouble started last night we used it to cancel school for today. We could telephone about the meeting and word our message to suggest that they tell their neighbors. We would pretty well reach everyone that way.”

  “Good. That’s an excellent plan.”