Jarillo Sunset

by Constance Bretes

  Vincent saw a flash of loneliness etch across her face, but it disappeared just as quickly as it had appeared. He wondered why she didn’t have more friends that she could hang out with. It seemed to him like the only thing that kept her going was her work.

  “Anything exciting happening with the homeowners’ association?” Jonathan asked.

  “Not really. We’re getting ready to sell off some more lots. Are you guys sure you don’t want to consider purchasing property and having your home built rather than buying another home?”

  “Vincent, you know our schedules. We’re too busy right now to be bothered with the hassle,” Jonathan replied.

  Vincent took a bite of the chicken, and then said to Char, “The architecture committee will probably be in touch with you sometime next week. We’re ready to put five lots up for sale.”

  “Oh great, thank you for referring them to me,” Char said appreciatively.

  “You’re welcome.” Vincent smiled slightly at her. “Did you get anything at the art show in Hobbs?”

  “Yes, I found a large picture for my bedroom and a few other pieces of pottery. I left about noon, because it was getting so hot outside.”

  “You mean that art show going on in downtown Hobbs?” Rosie chimed in, handing Vincent a glass of iced tea.

  “Yes. It was really a nice show, but it’s just too hot out there to stay long.”

  “We’re going tomorrow morning,” Rosie said.

  Jonathan looked at his wife. “You mean, you are going.”

  “No, we are going. There are a few things I’d like to get and I need help with carrying stuff back to the car,” Rosie said in a matter-of-fact tone.

  “Don’t start fighting. Otherwise, I’m going to go indoors to eat my chicken,” Vincent intervened.

  “We’re not fighting, I’m just setting our priorities straight here,” Rosie said with her lips pressed together.

  Jonathan shook his head in disbelief. “Rosie, you don’t need my help to spend our money.”

  “Char, have you ever been horseback riding?” Rosie asked. She looked as if she was formulating some sort of plan in her head.

  “I rode horses when I was younger, but I have no desire to get back on a horse after what happened to me the last time I was on one,” Char answered.

  “What happened?” Rosie asked.

  “I was riding a horse and we were doing a trot, and there was a snake on the path. The horse stopped suddenly, and I went flying over the top of its head and landed in cow poop. To make matters worse, I got bit by the snake.”

  “Oh my.” Rosie brought her hand to her mouth.

  Vincent sat there looking at Char with his elbows on the table and his hands clasped together in front of his lips. He was trying not to laugh at her plight.

  “What happened next?” Jonathan asked, his eyes wide, as if the story was almost unbelievable to him.

  “They had to get me to the emergency room as the snake was poisonous, and I stunk out the whole emergency room while they were giving me the anti-venom. I was very embarrassed at the time.”

  “At least it was a cushion for you instead of landing on the ground or worse yet, a rock,” Jonathan quipped.

  “Well gads, I would have been embarrassed too,” Rosie replied. Then she asked, “Do you like cycling?”

  “As in bicycle?” Char asked.

  “Yeah,” Rosie said.

  “We haven’t been out on our bikes yet this summer,” Jonathan added.

  “The last time I was on a bike, I had stopped to talk to a friend who was cycling with me. A blind man was running, and he ran right into me, knocking me down with the bike and him on top of me.” Char winced. “I haven’t been on a bike since.”

  “Didn’t the guy have his leading dog or someone with him to guide him?” Vincent asked incredulously as he watched the painful memory etched across her face.

  “No, I made the mistake of stopping in the middle of the path. I should have gone off to the side,” Char admitted.

  “What then, do you like to do in your spare time?” Rosie asked Char.

  “Oh, I like going to music concerts, rodeo events, festivals. I also like to read. I used to belong to a reading club before I moved here, but I haven’t found one around here to join.”

  “Do you like Renaissance festivals?”

  “Yes, I love those. Do they have one here?”

  “Yes, they do, in Hobbs. I’ll have to look and see when the next one is scheduled.”

  * * * *

  Rosie got up and went inside to her computer to do a check and came back out. “Hey guys, guess what? The Renaissance Festival starts next weekend. How about the four of us take the day and go to it?” she asked enthusiastically.

  Everyone looked around the room at each other, nodding in agreement. “We can go if everyone wants to.” Vincent said.

  She knew she should refuse, but she didn’t have a legitimate excuse to not go. She didn’t know how she could wiggle out of this. Maybe she should say she’d go and then find an excuse to not go later? That wouldn’t be a very good thing to do, and besides, Rosie was a new friend. Char had a lot of acquaintances but no real friends. She knew she should make an effort to get out more and socialize, but right now she needed to focus all her time and energy on keeping her job.

  “I’m free next Saturday, if you guys want to go,” Char finally answered.

  “We’re not doing anything Saturday, and I think it would be a blast,” Rosie said excitedly.

  “We’d have to leave by seven at the latest to come back home and get our instruments before we head over to Apache White Eagle,” Jonathan said.

  “That’s okay, it opens at nine and goes on until after midnight. I think we’ll be plenty of tired and pooped out after being there for eight hours,” Rosie added.

  Vincent looked over at Char. “Any more news on the body they found at that house?”

  “I did talk to Dennis Harrison’s sister, Minnie, earlier today. She shed some light on why Dennis was down here in New Mexico,” Char said expressionlessly.

  “So you know the victim that was found dead in the house?” Rosie asked.

  “Yes, it was a guy I used to date about seven or eight years ago in Michigan. I didn’t really recognize him when I saw the body lying there. I had a flash of an image go through my brain, but I never imagined it was him. The body was pretty grotesque to look at. Apparently, he had been seeking professional help to end his dependency on drugs and had been clean for several months. He came down here to tell me that he was clean and to see if we could get back together again. He’d been here about a month or so, but he never called me. The toxicology report hasn’t come back yet to determine if he had gone back to using drugs again or not, but it would be good to know for sure that he was clean and his murder was a random act, and not drug related.”

  “Why? Either way he’s dead,” Vincent said.

  “Yeah, I know, but for his parents’ sake, I hope he hadn’t gone back to using drugs. I think it would make the situation even harder for them to deal with. Can I ask you guys something? Is your brother Patrick always so quiet and...well, uninterested? I called him to give him the information I got from Minnie because the sheriff wasn’t in and it didn’t evoke the reaction I had expected from him.”

  “Yeah, he’s slow to react. He takes what you say, mulls it over, and then responds. That’s how he operates. He can leave you feeling as if you didn’t really have anything of importance to tell,” Rosie agreed.

  “Oh, okay,” Char said.

  Rosie turned her attention to Vincent. “Vince, aren’t you in charge of doing the family picnic this year?”

  Vincent nodded as he took another bite of chicken. “Yeah, I’m going to have it at Moores River park.”

  “Why at a park?” Rosie asked disapprovingly. “Your backyard is a beautiful place to have a picnic.”

  “This way, it will be by the community pool, and it will give everyone a chance to swim if they wan
t, or play the games that they have going on around there. I plan to have an in-ground pool installed by next summer, but until then, I thought the park was a better place.”

  “Oh, I see,” Rosie said.

  “Hey Vince, you want a beer?” Jonathan asked as he got up to go inside to get himself one.

  “Yeah, a cold beer sounds good,” Vincent replied.

  Char didn’t know why it bothered her, but hearing Vincent having a beer with Jonathan made her think of her dad and his addictions again. She immediately put up a wall of defense around her as she thought about it. She knew that Vincent didn’t have a drinking problem or anything like that, but it didn’t help alleviate her concerns or her fears.

  She decided that it was time for her to go. “Well, everyone, it was great being here with you, and I enjoyed myself very much, but I’ve got to go. I still have some stuff I want to get done tonight on the computer.”

  Vincent looked at her questioningly, with one eyebrow raised. “Not something that could wait until tomorrow?”

  “No, tomorrow I don’t want to do any work. It’s laundry and fix-my-meals day for the week.”

  Jonathan brought Vincent and himself a beer and Char got up. Rosie and Jonathan walked her to the door. “Thank you for inviting me over, and for dinner. It was delicious, and I enjoyed it all very much.”

  “Thank you for coming over, Char. I’ll call you before Saturday to finalize our plans to go to the Renaissance Festival.” Rosie reached over and gave Char a hug.

  Vincent stood by the door that went out to the deck and watched Char as she stepped out on the landing. She waved at him, then said, “Goodbye Rosie, Jonathan, I’ll see you Monday morning.”

  Char practically ran down the stairs. One part of her hoped that Vincent didn’t run down the stairs after her, and another part of her hoped he would. When she got to her car and got in, she looked up and no one was at Rosie and Jonathan’s door or coming down the stairs.

  Chapter 9

  Char met Jonathan and Rosie at the Schneider’s residence promptly at nine in the morning. “Good morning, Char,” Rosie said enthusiastically.

  “Good morning, Rosie, Jonathan,” Char answered. “Are we ready to go in?”

  “Yes, we are,” Jonathan responded.

  Char gave Jonathan and Rosie a tour of the house and answered their questions. They went outside to look at the backyard, the pool, the flower garden, and how the lawn was landscaped. They had flower beds all along the perimeter of the house, and in the middle where there was a septic tank pipe, they had built a little doll house-shaped housing over it with flowers all around it to cover it.

  After they got done with the tour, they walked to their vehicles, and Char asked Rosie, “What do you think?”

  “We love it. We would like to make an offer of ninety-five thousand. Would that be acceptable?” Rosie asked.

  “When I get back to the office, I’ll call them and tell them the offer, and I’ll let you know. They may counteroffer with a higher price.”

  “Yeah, we figured that, and we’re willing to go up a little if we need to.”

  “Okay, I’ll see what I can do,” Char said cheerfully. At least thus far, her Monday had started out as a pretty good day.

  After Char left and was driving toward the office, she got a call from Mr. Shafer. “Hello, Ms. Johnson. This is Leonard Shafer calling about that house in Sunnyside subdivision.”

  “Yes, Mr. Shafer, how are you doing this morning?”

  “I’m doing pretty good, thanks. I’d like to make an offer on that house at Pueblo Lane. Is it still listed?”

  “Yes, it is. What price are you thinking?” Char asked with a smile on her face.

  “I’d like to make an offer of seventy thousand.”

  “Let me contact Mrs. Sedewick and see what she says. I’ll get back with you sometime today. How’s that?” she asked.

  “That would be fine. Thank you, Ms. Johnson.”

  Before Char reached the office, her cellphone rang yet again. “Char Johnson,” she answered.

  “Ms. Johnson, this is Sheriff Turner. I got your message that you had some additional information that you left with Deputy Carter.”

  “Yes, Sheriff,” Char said, not happy about the intrusion. “I gave Deputy Carter the telephone number of Dennis Harrison’s sister who I thought may have had some valuable information for you.”

  “Are you trying to get the focus off you and on to someone else?” he asked dogmatically.

  “No, I’m not doing anything of the kind. Minnie called me to talk about her brother, and I simply gave the information to your officer. I thought it might be helpful, that’s all. Why, do you think I’m a suspect in this case?” Char asked, her anger starting to rise.

  “Right now, everyone is suspect until I can rule them out one hundred percent, and thus far, you discovered the body, you knew the victim, and your phone number was on his cell. Not having any other clues at the moment, this places you quite high on my suspect list,” he replied in an abrupt manner.

  Char was getting perturbed at the idea that the sheriff thought she had something to do with the murder and asked icily, “Is there something else you want, Sheriff?”

  “Yes, I want to ask if you have a landline or any other cellphone besides the one you’re using right now?”

  “No.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want to reconsider that answer?”

  “No, the only phone I have is this one. Why are you asking me this?” Char demanded, her anger raising another notch.

  “We found calls on the victim’s telephone log that go to an unidentifiable disposable phone. There are quite a few calls to that number. We’re looking for the person who owned that disposable phone.”

  “I don’t own a disposable phone, nor have I ever had one,” Char denied vehemently.

  “Interestingly enough, the cell towers that link this disposable phone are the exact same cell towers that you have linked to your phone.”

  “So? That doesn’t mean anything,” Char countered.

  “It could mean a whole lot if we get additional evidence to support that you have something to do with this murder case.”

  “I don’t have anything to do with it,” Char said icily.

  “Until we get to the bottom of this, don’t be taking off anywhere.”

  Char arrived at the office and got out of the car. She snapped the phone shut and was livid when she went inside. “Oh look, here comes Ms. Betty Boobs,” one of the agents remarked as she was walking to her desk.

  Char spun around and look at the guy. “You know, you are damn lucky to be working here. If you were in a place that had an EEO officer, your ass would be fired by now.” She started to walked away as he snickered at her.

  Don Stillwater came out right after her outburst and walked up to the agent that made the remark. “She’s absolutely right. Knock off the harassment.”

  Char turned to look at the agent that made the snide remark. He was looking down at his desk and his face was red.

  She got to her desk and sat down. She pulled her papers out and started to make some calls. When she hung up from talking with Mrs. Sedewick, Mike came up to her and he was mad. “What the hell did you do with my papers for the closing I have scheduled today?”

  Char looked up at him with her eyebrows knitted together. She was still angry herself. “I didn’t do anything with your papers,” she snapped, and turned to get back to work, but he wasn’t letting it go.

  “You did something with them. You’re the only one here that would have any reason to hide or destroy my papers.”

  “I haven’t done a damn thing with your papers, Mike. Now get the hell away from me,” Char said impatiently, her temper rising.

  Mike stomped away from Char and a few minutes later, he returned with shredded papers and dropped them on her desk.

  “What the hell are you doing, Mike? Get that off my desk now.”

  “This is what you did with my papers. Y
ou shredded them,” he said loudly.

  “I didn’t do anything with your papers,” Char yelled back. She picked up the armload of shredded paper that he dumped on her desk and threw it at him. “Take your damn papers and dump them on someone else’s desk.”

  “You’re a conniving bitch that will do anything to sabotage my work so you can keep your job,” Mike said in a menacing tone.

  Don Stillwater walked out to see what the commotion was about. “What’s going on out here?”

  “She shredded my papers,” Mike said accusingly.

  “I did no such thing. I haven’t been in the office since last Thursday,” Char said defensively.

  “Okay, both of you stop right now. I don’t want any more of this nonsense. Who shredded Mike’s papers?” Don asked.

  Char turned her back to Don and snickered a bit. Like someone is going to fess up to that.

  “All right, I want you both in my office now.” Don was so angry she could almost see smoke coming out of his ears and his nose was raised in a snarl.

  Mike walked into Don’s office and sat down, and Char came in and angrily sat down in the chair. Don came in behind them and slammed the door shut, startling Char.

  Don rounded his desk and sat down. “The two of you are acting very unprofessionally and discourteously to each other. You’re disrupting the work of the other agents and staff here. I want it stopped right now. I don’t want to know who or what started it, but it needs to end now. You’ve both got a job to do and you are this far....” Don brought his finger and thumb up, showing a small space between them. “...from being fired. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Yes, perfectly,” Char said almost sarcastically. She wondered why in the hell Don couldn’t yell at Mike, since he was the one who had started it. Also, why did Mike leave his papers on his desk to begin with? Everyone had a tub drawer at their cubicles that they were supposed to lock their papers in when they were away from their desks.

  “Yes,” Mike said.

  “Mike, since you brought the papers over from the shredder and dumped it on Char’s desk, you get the job of cleaning up the mess. After that, get as much ready for the closing as you can. Go get started. Char, I want to have a word with you,” Don said gruffly.