Murder, Sonoran Style

by Kathy McIntosh

  Of course that’s not what happened. She reported to her husband that Gabe had accosted her in the hallway outside his office, dragged her inside, and assaulted her. She’d—barely—been able to repel his unwanted advances.

  Madrone stopped him there. “She was lying. Most women would need martial arts training to successfully stop a man your size.”

  “No one listened to me. Then her husband barreled into my office and pummeled me until I hit back. Unfortunately he fell and hit his head against my bookcase and was knocked out. Claimed I’d attacked him. In my office? For what reason?”

  “Jealousy. You obviously didn’t have the looks or the bucks to attract someone like his wife.”

  “Were you there?” He sent her a rueful smile and continued. “Anyway, the school administration believed the big donor instead of the untenured professor and it was ‘adiós, Gabe and sign this non-disclosure form on your way out.’” He let out a huge breath. “And that’s how I ended up here.”

  “Is that a bad thing? Wish you were still teaching?”

  “If things work out and I’m not arrested for murder, I believe I’ll love guiding. Instead of shaping young minds, I’ll be educating—and likely learning from—elders.”

  “Things will work out.” She shoved the menu his way. “Eat. Sleuthing takes strength.”

  Gabe ordered something that would arrive fast and asked Madrone, “We okay? Am I forgiven for not telling you before?”

  She tilted her head from one side to the other. “Maybe forgiven. I wish you’d trusted me more. That non-disclosure was meant for media, for people who could gain from the information. You should have realized that.”

  “I should have, actually did suspect that was the truth. But the dean threatened to blackball me from teaching anywhere else if I shared it. And,” he added after a long pause, “I was embarrassed. Never should have hit that guy.” He gulped some water. “How did you find out?”

  “After the sheriff’s people ransacked Tripp’s house, he said I ought to find out from you about your troubles in Durango. I couldn’t let on I’d heard him tell Lorraine the same thing and hadn’t believed it. Had to act like it was new information. That was hard. Makes forgiving you take longer. No more lies, please. Or omissions.”

  “Got it. No more lies between us.” He extended his hand for hers to shake but instead saw her pale.

  “What is it? I want to earn your trust, Madrone.” He kept his hand extended, foolish as it looked.

  Madrone chewed at her lip. “You are. Thank you.” She shook his hand.

  Something still wasn’t right between them, but he let it go and finished his meal. He’d made progress regaining her trust and they needed to get back to Jesse.

  CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN: Jesse Spills Some

  W hen Gabe and Madrone got back to the sheriff’s substation, Sheriff Idle was chatting with the deputy manning the counter. He greeted the two of them with a broad smile. “You’ve already built some loyalty in your troops, Gabe. Good work.”

  “He lied for me?”

  “Nope. Decided to tell the truth, far as I could tell. Thing is, he didn’t kill your pal Poulsen.”

  Gabe bristled. “Not my pal, like I told you.”

  Madrone laid a hand on Gabe’s arm. “Nobody’s pal. The man had a slimy side, sheriff.”

  “So it seems. Lots of people had it in for him.”

  “So what happened with Jesse?” she asked.

  “Not my story to tell. Ask him.”

  They looked toward the hall.

  “Already gone. I expect you can catch him back at Chasen’s place. He mentioned Ben wasn’t happy about loaning out his truck.”

  * * * *

  Back at Tripp’s, they found Heather and Ben in the kitchen fixing dinner.

  “Get ready for an eclectic dinner,” Heather announced. “I’m teaching Ben how to make calabacitas and he’s teaching me how to make Cowboy Beans, quick-style. Frances is going to make soda bread. If you’re lucky, we’ll get someone to make a salad.”

  “Hey, I’m not making it. I count that as lucky,” Madrone said. “Is Jesse back yet?”

  “Yeah, and my truck’s still in one piece,” Ben said. “So Jesse is, too.” He looked at Gabe. “You okay, boss? Glad they let you out of the Big House.”

  Madrone and Gabe laughed. “I’m fine,” he said. “Need to talk to Jesse. Speaking of okay, how’s your foot doing?”

  “Still Scorpion, one, me, zero, but I’m healing fast.” He waved a flip-flop wearing foot in the air. “Had to jam my foot in my boots for our little cuckoo hunt. Not fun. Once I can get back into my boots full-time, I’ll be out stomping the little buggers.” He grinned at Madrone. “Just kidding.” To Gabe, he added, “Jesse’s out back, soaking up his last hours of freedom. Or not?” Ben didn’t hide his curiosity well.

  “Keep your nose in the Cowboy Beans and squash, Gossip Man,” Madrone said with a laugh.

  “I’m just glad you’re all back safe,” Heather said.

  * * * *

  Jesse lay on a lounge chair, facing the Catalinas and away from the pool. His eyes were closed until Madrone and Gabe made a ruckus pulling two iron chairs up beside him. “Thought you might be Ben, telling me to detail his truck,” he said.

  “Nothing that easy,” Gabe said. “Why’d you tell Idle you killed Everett?”

  “And why are you here now, instead of in jail?” Madrone added. Her tone rang kinder than Gabe’s.

  Jesse looked at Madrone, then Gabe. “Why didn’t anyone tell me he was stabbed? Maybe with a knife like yours?”

  So many questions, too many secrets. “It was my knife. Someone stole it. I found it in the fire when I found his body,” he said.

  Jesse sat up. “No way,” he said. “I didn’t . . . Who . . . What a colossal fustercluck.”

  Madrone burst out laughing. “Fustercluck. Love it. You and I will be great partners.”

  Impatience weighed on Gabe like a winter overcoat. “There’s a reason you thought you killed him. What the heck happened out there, and why were you there?” And oh by the way, how many other people were traipsing around one tiny campsite in one huge desert?

  Jesse rubbed his head, messing up his spiky hair. “Look, you both know I had some problems with drugs a ways back. Got cleaned up and I’m still clean, I swear it. But somehow Everett Poulsen found out about a time I was arrested for robbery. I thought it was in my sealed juvie records and I didn’t mention it when I applied with Adventure Calls. My bad, I know, but I was sixteen and stupid and totally merked and I needed cash. I was hanging with some bad derps.”

  “Okay, I hear you. Drunk or stoned, bad friends. But don’t talk to our clients like that,” Gabe cautioned.

  “Everett must have investigated every one of us when he found out who Tripp hired,” Madrone said. “But then why hadn’t he known about Kate?”

  “From what Frances told me,” Gabe said, “her daughter was not the kind to bring her boyfriends home to dinner. And her name was different than Frances, who kept her maiden name, I imagine.”

  “Yeah, that sounds like Frances,” Jesse said. “Still . . . he had to have hired a P.I. to find out about me.”

  “And you. And my brother,” Madrone said. She shot Gabe a level look that might have meant “don’t ask now.” Or “You, too, are a derp.”

  Gabe raised an eyebrow. Brother? But he shelved that question. “So Everett had some dirt on you. How did he try to use it?”

  “Oh, he didn’t just try. He used it. He ‘suggested’ I report back to him on the goings on with Adventure Calls, especially on his land. That’s why I was there that morning. Meeting up with him to spill my guts. Not that I knew much. We were all separate. Only thing I had to tell him was Tripp’s marching orders about finding something to stop Mountain Shadows.”

  “So what happened?”

  Jesse shook his head. “My dear mother would kill me for ‘speaking ill of the dead’ if she heard me say this, but boy, howdy, that guy
was a total prick. First thing he did when I arrived at the campsite was offer me a beer. Like he didn’t know I’m a drunk. Smirked when he handed me the open can. So I took it and poured it out. Something I learned in rehab for dealing with jerks like him. I had a little notebook that I take notes in on wildlife and photos I take and I’d made some notes in it. He grabbed it away from me and started thumbing through it, making comments, like, ‘This is garbage,’ and ‘What a waste.’” I asked for it back and flipped to the notes I’d made from Tripp’s talk and from the stuff I saw when I was on my assignment. Nothing much. I told him what I had and he went into an absolute fit, ranting that he’d tell the world all my secrets ‘cause my snooping was worthless. He wouldn’t stop yelling.” He stopped to take a breath and let it out. “So I hit him. The guy pissed me off.” He glanced at Gabe. “I guess you know about that.” Apparently Lorraine had told Tripp about Gabe hitting Everett and Tripp had told the entire team. Bless his heart, as Gabe’s grandmother would say. Jesse took another breath. “The thing is, he fell back and hit a rock. He just lay there. I wondered how bad he was, thought about hauling him to the hospital in his car. I checked his pulse and he was breathing okay, I thought. So I did the chicken thing and left. He wasn’t bleeding much, but I used my handkerchief and sopped it up. I figured he’d sue me or have me arrested but I just couldn’t stay there. So I left.”

  “And then someone else came and finished him off? With my knife? That stretches credulity, Jesse.”

  “I’m telling you, I had no idea he’d been stabbed. So I told the sheriff just what I told you two when I confessed. And he let me go. Asked me a lot of questions about a knife, which I totally fumbled since I’d never heard about one. Didn’t even know they’d found yours. Guess he believed me. And I guess their autopsy report said the head wound wasn’t all that damaging.”

  “Except for making him the perfect target for anyone who came next,” Madrone said.

  “But they had to be following him. It couldn’t have been a coincidence.” Gabe stared off toward the hills. “This is weird.”

  Jesse stood beside him. “Weird or not, I’m glad to be here and not in jail. And I’m glad you’re with me. And now, boss and sorta-boss, this guy is headed for bed. Being grilled by the man wore me down.”

  “You haven’t had dinner yet,” Madrone said. “It should be ready soon.”

  “I’ll just chew on some jerky. Honest, I’m totally whipped.” Before either Gabe or Madrone could ask another question, Jesse strode quickly toward the house and disappeared inside.

  * * * *

  Hands on hips, Madrone glared at Gabe. “I want to know the rest of the story.”

  “Honest, I told you everything,” Gabe said. After they shared a very small laugh, he added, “When someone says ‘honest,’ you can bet they’re lying.”

  “Or at least leaving out the good parts. He’s not telling us everything. But he’s not as smart as I thought if he believes he’s gonna keep it from me.”

  “Oh, he probably knows he won’t. Just postponing the pain. It’s a guy thing.”

  “Ha. He’s hiding something. Covering for someone, ya think? Or being forced by someone else?”

  “I’m not sure. I wish he trusted me.” He paused. “The kid trusts you, Madrone. I’m the boss, but you’re his . . . mentor, so to speak.”

  “He’s an odd one, but I really like him. I’m sure he’s hiding something, but I’m equally sure it isn’t damning. He wants to do the right thing, we already know that or he wouldn’t have turned himself in to the sheriff today.”

  “Uh huh. But we need to know what he’s not telling us.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “It maybe should wait ‘til tomorrow, but I have a feeling the real killer may be starting to worry.”

  “Yeah.” He clasped his fingers, rubbed his palms with his thumbs. “Makes me nervous.”

  “Me too. So I’m going in there and I’m going to find out what he didn’t tell us. Save me some dinner if I’m late. I love calabacitas.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT: Madrone Gets the Rest of the Story

  B efore heading up to Jesse’s room, Madrone stopped in the kitchen to grab an Orange Nehi, a root beer and a bag of fried pork rinds. “Hey, Ben, do me a favor and don’t go in your room until after dinner.”

  Ben leered. “Hey, hey, hey, is this going to be a big seduction scene?”

  With a level, cold gaze, she said, “No, it is not. And no, it is not your business.” She paused. “Or anyone else’s.” Grudgingly, she added, looking at Ben and then at Heather, “Please.”

  Ben zipped his lips and Heather said, “Sure thing.”

  Upstairs, she took a breath before knocking on Jesse’s door. She still wasn’t sure how to handle this, but hoped it would become clear. When there was no answer to her knock, she tried again, calling softly, “Jesse, it’s me, Madrone. I really need to speak with you.”

  He opened the door a crack. “Tomorrow?”

  She put her foot in the opening. “Now. I come bearing an orange Nehi. And chicharrones.”

  He opened the door with a grudging smile. “No fair. You know I’m a sucker for Nehi. But pork rinds are your favs.”

  “I plan to convert you to the right path.” She moved into the room and pulled out a desk chair as Jesse lowered himself onto his bed.

  She said nothing, simply opened the bag of pork rinds and her soda and watched as he swallowed some of his Nehi. She offered him the open bag, but he shook his head.

  “Pretty clear you didn’t tell me and Gabe everything.”

  “Not on my job description. And I never heard that interrogation’s on yours.”

  “Right and right. But I care about you. Can’t help myself.”

  He cocked his head. “So you came here to seduce me with Nehi and pork rinds?”

  “No. Just to hear the truth. No matter what it is, Jesse, I won’t hold it against you. I know you’re one of the good ones.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Right. Not.”

  “No, really. I’d like to think we’re friends.”

  He leaned forward and snagged a pork rind. “If I tell you, I doubt you’ll think that we’re friends anymore.”

  “I’m not that shallow. Friend means friend. Whatever it is, we’ll figure a way to make it right.”

  “I really don’t want to lose this job.”

  “Duh. You’re too good at it to lose it. Gabe knows that.” She paused and ate a pork rind. “He’s one of the good ones, and he’ll vouch for you with Tripp, if that’s what’s bothering you.”

  He shook his head. Stood and wandered around the room. “I have to tell someone. It’s way more important than my any stupid job, and God knows I don’t know how to fix things.”

  Diós. What has he done? And how can I keep my face calm? “Just tell me. I’m sure you’ll feel better having someone to share it with.”

  “I doubt it, but here goes. You remember that morning we all had breakfast after coming back? And Lorraine Poulsen came in and asked me to help with carrying some food in?”

  She nodded, not wanting to break the flow of his words.

  “She wanted to talk to me, away from the rest of you. Told me she knew her husband had made me be his snitch and that she’d seen me meet him and knock him down. Told me she’d been afraid and hidden from me, but that if I didn’t help her out, become her snitch, she’d tell the cops what she’d seen.”

  “But why wouldn’t she want to tell them, if she thought you were his killer?” Madrone regretted the outburst as soon as she’d uttered the words.

  He sat down on the bed. “My first thought, too. So I asked her that. She’s one cold bitch, Madrone. She told me she’d been planning to leave him, that he was boring plus a real jerk to her and others. And that she had no qualms about turning me in if I didn’t help her.”

  “That’s horrible. She’s a bruja, a witch.”

  “She’s worse than that. She is so cold, so calculating. Anyway, she scared me enough tha
t I blurted out how Kate was likely Everett’s biological daughter.” He took serious interest in his feet. “Kate told Ben. Ben’s the worst gossip I know. I figured Lorraine would find out soon enough anyway. That set her back for a couple of minutes.

  “But then she told me I had to arrange an accident for Kate. Something that might not be fatal, but would convince her to back off. She meant I should kill her, an idiot would have known that from the look on her face. I thought I’d never make it through breakfast that day.”

  Madrone remembered how pale Jesse had been when he came back to breakfast that morning. “Go on.”

  “Then . . . .” He put his head in his hands. “God, I don’t want to tell you this.”

  He took a breath. “I was in my room, thinking I should just run away, when I noticed her car was in the driveway.” He focused again on his shoes. “I know quite a bit about cars, so I ran downstairs and cut her brake line. I don’t know if I thought she’d die in an accident or just take the warning. I didn’t think that much about it. Just knew I was so angry with her and angrier with myself.

  “And then I found out you were in the car with her and that you could have been hurt, worse, maybe. I vowed to do nothing else for her. Yesterday she came over here while you were in Benson, and suggested I needed to convince Kate that she should ‘reconsider pursuing any inheritance possibilities.’ Told me she knew I’d messed with her car and she’d tell the sheriff about that, too. I told her to forget it. She’d have to do her own dirty work and she could turn me in. I figured killing Everett was one thing, hurting Kate far worse. I’d just pay my debt for killing him when she turned me in.”