by Mark Tufo
“Maybe. They all had records.” He took a bite of pie and turned back to the witness statements.
“No, not that.” She closed her eyes and thought back. “I can’t put my finger on it, but these names sound familiar to me.”
He set down his papers and studied her. “Can you remember how they’re familiar? Are they somehow linked together?”
“Yeah, I think they are,” she said slowly, straining her head to the side, trying to remember. “But for the life of me, I can’t remember how.”
“Maybe they were customers?” he fished.
“No, I wouldn’t know them personally,” she answered. “It’s like maybe I read about them…” She shook her head and handed him back his notebook. “I’m sorry sweetheart. My old brain is just too full of holes.”
“That’s okay, Ruby. If it comes to you, though, let me know.”
“I will.”
She went back to work and he went back to his papers. He hadn’t gotten very deep into his research before she came back.
“I think I remember where I read those names, Ben.” She sat down across from him again.
He set his work down again and gave her his full attention. “I’m all ears.”
“I’m in this ladies book club, and I’m almost positive that those names were in a book we read a year or so ago,” she said quietly, her finger tapping the notepad. “I don’t remember exactly which book it was, but it wouldn’t be too hard to find it again.”
“A book?” Ben asked.
“Yes, sir. Our ladies like to read a lot of history books, and we really like anything that has to do with local history. I’m almost positive those boys’ names were listed in that book.”
Ben sat back and rubbed at temples. “If it was a history book, would it have been them or somebody they were related to?”
“I don’t know, Ben. You just have their last names listed here.” She tapped the page again.
He glanced over and saw that she was right. He nodded and smiled at her. “Right now, Ruby, I have nothing else. If you get time, could you look for that book for me?”
“I sure could. And as soon as I find it, I’ll call you.”
*****
“Sergeant Sanders, have you got everything you need?” Justin asked as he picked up his hat to go.
“Paperwork wise, I believe so,” she stated as she finished collating her copies. “But I’d really appreciate it if somebody could show me where each of the crimes took place.”
He paused, and a tic appeared in his jaw. “Are the crime scene photos not sufficient?”
“I’d just like to see the actual locations.”
He sighed and dropped his head. “How about I get Deputy Foo to escort you?” He painted a fake smile across his face.
“I’d prefer if you did it.”
“Perhaps Deputy Eckerson would be so kind?”
Jeff stood up a little too quickly and was about to offer his services when she replied, “I’d prefer if you escorted me, Undersheriff.”
Justin sighed and turned on her. “Really, what difference does it make who shows you the different scenes? And I don’t see why you want to go out there when the crime scene photos were more than adequate.”
She smiled at him again, flashing her brilliant green eyes as she did. “Would you believe I have an agenda?”
Justin studied her a moment, unsure what to say. Finally he simply shook his head and nodded toward the door. “I’ll wait for you outside.”
“Lucky dog,” Eckerson muttered as he walked past.
“Trade ya.” Justin whispered back as he brushed past the man.
Sanders shoved the files into her bag and grabbed her travel mug of coffee. “Catch y’all later.” She tossed Jeff a playful wink as she slipped around the counter.
He sighed as he watched her walk out. “I wish you would. Hate for ya to go, but I love to watch you leave,” he sighed, staring at the Ranger’s backside through the glass door.
“Roll your tongue back into your face, would you?” Denise slapped him across the middle with a file folder. “I think you have badge envy.”
“What?” Eckerson said defensively, glancing down to his badge. “Actually, my badge is bigger.”
“The way she sashays around here, telling folks what to do, her balls are bigger.” Brenda growled.
“You’re just enjoying the fact that a woman is in charge of the investigation.” Eckerson drained his coffee and set the mug on his desk.
“That’s where you’re wrong,” Brenda corrected him. “I don’t like anybody coming into our house and hiking on the furniture.” She turned back to her console. “Had a Yorkie once that did that, and you know what I did to him?”
“Rubbed his nose in it?” Jeff asked.
Brenda smiled at him and it was not a kind smile. “Nope. Had his little balls cut off. My daddy always said if you neuter a dog, they’d stop marking their territory.”
Jeff cupped himself. “Damn, you’re brutal. Did he stop marking everything?”
“No, had to give him to my sister. Her Rottweiler put him in his place.” She wore an even more sinister grin.
“Yeah, you’re evil, Brenda.” Eckerson started for the door.
“Not evil, Eckerson. I just know how to handle little boys who get too big for their britches.”
“So, you’re saying you’re just like Sgt. Sanders.”
Brenda paused and then turned to face him. “I suppose I am. I just prefer to be the head bitch in this office.”
Jeff gave her a shocked look. “Funny, I didn’t think Sanders was a bitch at all.”
Denise snorted. “You were too busy checkin’ out her assets.”
“To me, being a bitch has more to do with attitude.”
“Oh, trust me.” Brenda planted her hands on her hips. “She’s a bitch. I’m one, and I knows ‘em when I sees ‘em.” She hooked her finger out the window toward where Sanders had faded from view. “Beneath that eyeliner and lip gloss, lies the heart of a true bitch.”
“Well, I guess you’d know.”
*****
“Mr. Miller, if you’ll follow me,” Chris Anthony said, motioning for the older man. Jerrod got out of his chair and fell into step behind the much larger and younger fellow. “As you’ll see, the security room also doubles as a panic room. Everything has a double redundant power source. Even the telephone lines that call out to the police have cell phones for backups,” he said as the two stepped into the steel reinforced concrete security room.
“It’s not very large, is it?” Miller said as he stepped in and looked around.
“It’s not for long term living, Mr. Miller. It’s a panic room and you shouldn’t need to be in here much longer than an hour in a worst case scenario. However, you do have air filtration in case your uninvited guests try to gas you out. You have room for the storage of food and water. Over here is a fold down table that doubles as a cot and in the corner is a chemical toilet. No pipes in or out so there are no ways for them to get in or out. The only lines that puncture the concrete are the electrical and communications lines.” He pointed to the small electrical conduit line. “Far too small for any perceivable threat, and fully encased and buried under the structure.”
Miller sat down behind the monitors and looked at the buttons. “Show me what does what.”
Anthony entered the sequence of commands and the monitors sprang to life in living color. “These are for the perimeter.” He pointed to the bank of flat screens. “These are for the grounds. They’re set up to track along with the motion sensors that are implanted both in the ground and stationed throughout your property.”
“What if I’m not here to operate any of this?”
“There is a DVR hard drive set up inside the computer that records up to forty-eight hours of continuous activity. In the event of an alarm, it will record from the beginning of the alarm until that forty-eight hours is reached and then archive it on the hard drive. Then a new sequence is started and will continu
e until the hard drives are full or the alarm is reset,” he explained. “So if you accidentally trip the alarm, simply come in here, locate the archived footage and delete it.”
Miller nodded, staring at the screens. “Sounds simple enough.” He turned to the ex-commando. “Now, how about the specialty stuff?” An evil smile crossed his features.
Anthony stiffened slightly. “That is why you brought me here, isn’t it?” He leaned across and grabbed the joystick, bringing one of the cameras to bear on an area along the back wall. “Your electric fence is now fatal. There are signs along the perimeter in both English and Spanish that warns of severe electric shock or even death…” he trailed off. “You also have these.” He panned the camera to the main glass door leading to his study. Pointing to the hidden vents above the door. “Twin scatter guns hidden in the overhang. To prevent you from accidentally blowing your own head off, you have to be in here to operate these.” He punched up the ‘armaments’ icon and the scatter guns logo lit up, showing them active. “They’re now hot. If you hit the trigger on the joystick, anything standing outside that door loses everything above the shoulders.”
“Nice.” Jerrod reached for the joystick.
“I don’t think so.” Chris punched the code to shut down the armaments. “Those were active.”
“Oh, right,” Miller said sheepishly. “Well, it looks like I’m ready then.”
“It would appear so.” Anthony crossed his arms.
“I’m astonished at how quickly your people installed all this.” Miller turned to face him.
“Indeed,” Chris responded flatly. “It was a simple matter of repurposing your tornado shelter and installing a more secure door. The rest was relatively simple.”
“Still, it is remarkable. Well worth the investment.”
“Speaking of…” Anthony referenced his bill.
“Oh yes. Allow me to take care of that.” Miller stood and headed to his study, Chris following. “You know, I still think it wouldn’t hurt to have real guards on the premises.”
“Outside my purview,” he stated simply.
“You couldn’t make recommendations?” Miller asked hopefully.
“Have you tried the Yellow Pages?”
Miller stared at him open mouthed then returned to his desk. As he wrote out the check he found himself grinding his teeth. “Well, I had hoped that perhaps you could assist in that matter, but if it’s beyond your capabilities…” he tried to bait the man.
Anthony reached out and took the check from his hand. “It is.” He scanned the amount. Satisfied, he folded the check and placed it into his shirt pocket. “Pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Miller.” He turned for the door. “Please, lose my number.”
15
Deputy Jon Foo waited at the old ghost town for the men from Texas Parks & Wildlife Department to show up. He kept looking at his watch and tapping the steering wheel of his Expedition. He was tempted to call the main office again until he saw a vehicle approaching his position. He waited until he saw the yellow light mounted to the top of the pickup’s cab before stepping from his vehicle and leaning against the front fender of his patrol vehicle.
The truck pulled alongside his and two men in coveralls stepped out, one with a clipboard. “You Deputy Foose?”
Jon saw the name Earl stitched across his chest. “Foo actually, but you can just call me Jon.” He extended his hand.
“I’m Earl. This is Johnny.” The man took his hand. “Where’s the problem?”
Jon hooked his thumb over his shoulder and turned to show them the exposed graves. “Somebody’s been grave robbing.” He escorted them to the old graveyard beside the church. “We’ve finished our investigation and I was told that you guys oversaw the ghost town so I was going to see if maybe you could get some heavy equipment out here to maybe cover these up?” They stepped up onto the covered porch of the church and he pointed out to the open graves. “I thought maybe a mini backhoe like a Bobcat could get back here or something.”
Earl looked around and flipped through pages on his clipboard. He slapped Johnny on his shoulder and pointed to the building next to the church and Johnny nodded. “I hate to break it to ya, Deputy, but this part is outside our jurisdiction.” Earl spat a long stream of brown spit into the tall grass.
“Come again?”
“Well, ya see,” Earl began, “we are responsible for the ghost town itself.” He pointed toward the ramshackle buildings. “Parks Department covers that.” He stepped off the porch and walked between the exposed graves. He stopped on the other side of the graveyard. “But that stops right here.” He patted the side of the building adjacent to the graveyard. “This here graveyard belongs to the Missionary Baptist Church, and that ain’t part of it.”
Jon sighed heavily and shook his head. “Fine, so who do I call about this?”
Earl shook his head and looked at Johnny who simply shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe the county? They might could bring you out some fill dirt.” He walked back to the porch and stepped up on the creaky boards. “They might even level it out for you, but knowing how most county guys are, they’d just as soon level it with a D9 dozer. Flatten out all your markers.” He spat again and wiped his chin with the back of his sleeve. “Nope. Your best bet is to just grab a few trustees from the jail and have them rebury them.”
“Fucking great.” Jon kicked at a clump of dirt.
“Sorry, partner,” Johnny offered. “Rules is rules and we can’t break them.” They turned and headed back to the truck.
“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Jon stared out at the open graves. “Thanks for nothing.”
“But if anything happens in the ghost town itself, gives us a call again and we’ll come take a look. Not that we’d actually do anything about it, but at least we can waste half a day driving out here and looking at it.”
“Yeah. We might even write down that something got broke.” Johnny smiled at him.
“Government bureaucracy at its best,” Jon quipped as the two drove away. He climbed back into his SUV and started the engine. He sat a moment longer and debated whether he should call someone at the county barn and request a load of fill dirt be brought out so that he could have the graves filled, or whether he should go to Scott and bounce ideas off of him.
Rather than go straight to the top, he’d talk to Eckerson first. That was why Scott put the two together. If he didn’t like the answer he got, he’d talk to Zimmer.
He turned the truck toward town and slowly made his way back, probing his own mind for alternative ideas.
*****
Ginger pulled the RV over to the side of the road and set the emergency blinkers. She worked her way back to the rear and as she walked past Calvin and Quinn she simply announced, “I gotta twinkle or I’m going to pop.” She shut the door to the small bathroom and locked it behind her.
“How close are we?” Calvin asked as he continued to scan through the papers that Quinn continued to generate.
“Seriously?” Ginger called through the door. “I’m trying to use the restroom in here!”
Quinn looked at Calvin who seemed totally unperturbed and smiled. “You can’t pee and talk at the same time?”
“Oh, my God!” she called back. “Fine. We’re close. I don’t know exactly how close, but we should be there in less than an hour, okay?”
Calvin tried to refrain from smiling, but Quinn was enjoying herself entirely too much. They heard her moving around inside and then the door flew open again. Ginger stepped out and she wasn’t happy.
“Sometimes I really don’t like travelling with the two of you.” She started forward again, then paused and wiped her wet hand across Quinn’s face. “Don’t you just hate it when you pee all over your hand?”
Quinn’s eyes bulged. “Oh, she did not just do that!”
Calvin laughed out loud and slapped the table. Ginger looked over her shoulder and rolled her eyes. “Unclench your sphincter, your highness, it was just water.”
Quin
n’s face was turning red as she turned on her. “Perhaps so, but what was the SOURCE of the water?”
Ginger smiled. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
Quinn turned back to Calvin. “I’m going to kill her.”
Calvin was still chuckling but he shook his head, “No, you’re not. We have too much work to do and she hasn’t gotten us there yet.” He held her hand and smiled at her. “Besides, you have to admit, that was pretty good.”
Quinn fumed. “No it wasn’t. She pulled it on me.”
He found himself rubbing his thumb across the back of her hand absently as he stared at her face. “It was just a joke. No sense in letting her get to you. You know she likes to get under your skin. She’s just jealous.”
“Jealous?” Quinn asked, her face softening. “Of what?”
Calvin looked at her as though she were daft. “Why, everything of course. Your brilliance, your looks, your wit, your charm.”
“Your mad driving skills,” Ginger yelled from the front as she pulled the RV back onto the road. “I swear to God, I wish the two of you would just go to the back, close the door and make like chinchillas in heat or something. All this lovey-dovey-but-in-denial shit is really getting tiring.”
Calvin froze and Quinn’s eyes widened as Ginger ranted. He suddenly realized that he had been holding and caressing Quinn’s hand and he quickly let it go and sat a little straighter in his seat. He cleared his throat a little too loudly and restacked his papers. “Um, maybe we should get back to work.”
“Yes, I think we should too,” Quinn agreed.
“And I think the two of you should make good use of the next forty-three miles before we hit Quitman to bump uglies like bunnies,” Ginger said far too loudly. She glanced up in the overhead rear view mirror and smiled at them. “I’m just saying.”
“Please tell me again why you bring her along?” Quinn asked, keeping her voice low.
Calvin looked up from his papers and set his pen down. The RV rocked and leaned as Ginger took a curve just a little faster than he’d have preferred but he tried not to let his excitement show. He sighed slightly as he pulled his reading glasses lower. “Besides being our driver,” he said with an impish smile, “she’s one of the best techs there is. She can hack into anything and not leave a trail. When it comes to our equipment, if anything breaks in the field, she can usually fix it with a bobby pin and chewing gum.” He took his glasses off and glanced at Ginger then back to Quinn. “And the girl has this uncanny knack of knowing things that…” he trailed off.