Blue Jeans and a Badge

by Nina Bruhns

  “Here’s what I think,” Philip said. “The theft of the Hidalgo chips was also perpetrated by the people who hid their stolen loot in the box canyon. Probably someone in the theft gang works for Hidalgo, or somehow knew about the Beechcraft plane’s mechanical difficulties. That way they could be on the alert, and ready to steal a shipment at a moment’s notice if it broke down again.”

  “That would make Clyde our prime candidate,” she said.

  “Yeah. I’m afraid it does. When the plane made its emergency landing, the airport supervisor called Tafota to come fix it, since he’s Hidalgo’s regular mechanic. He could have tipped them off.”

  “We need to find out if those chips were part of the cache.”

  “I already asked Captain Segura to let me know when the inventory’s finished.”

  “Good. So if our theory’s correct, if we find the plane, hopefully we’ll find Clyde, or at least his trail. Time’s almost out on this retrieval,” she said in frustration, especially now she knew it wasn’t Clyde at the canyon.

  “But how to find the plane?”

  They sat for a few minutes staring into their coffee cups, Luce rubbing Santa’s tummy in her lap, hoping for inspiration. “What about those faxes and e-mails you sent? Have you heard back from anyone?”

  Philip looked up. “Damn!” He jumped from his chair. “What with everything else, I’ve forgotten to check my e-mail.”

  Five minutes later she read the third reply he’d gotten on his inquiries over his shoulder. As he scrolled down, her excitement mounted.

  “My God,” she said. “This could be the plane!”

  “Sure sounds like it,” he agreed. He smiled over his shoulder at her. “Shall we take a ride?”

  The e-mail message had been sent by the old codger who took care of a private airstrip used by a few very wealthy families who owned luxury cabins up in the mountains outside of Taos. Philip only knew about it because he’d given a ride to a vivacious redhead who’d vacationed at one of those cabins a couple of years back, whose private plane had left from the strip.

  Come to think of it, the Hidalgos were one of the families who owned a cabin nearby. Could this have been the cabin where Peter Santander was shot? He’d have to check with Ted.

  The old codger who e-mailed thought he’d seen a Beechcraft King Air like the missing Hidalgo plane. It had circled the airstrip a few days back, but he wasn’t certain it had landed, since nobody had called him for the gate key.

  “I sure hope this is the break we’ve been waiting for,” Philip called out the window as Luce closed the third cattle gate they’d encountered on the dirt track up to the airstrip.

  “I’m going to be very upset if I’ve climbed through all these cow patties for nothing,” Luce groused, gingerly hanging the loop of barbed wire back over the primitive gate posts as he’d shown her to do at the first gate.

  He chuckled. “Just think if you’d still been wearing sneakers.” He grinned as she slid back into the Jeep, scraping her boots on the running board. “Hey, watch the hardware. This is an official police vehicle, y’know.”

  “And I’m your official police deputy, as I recall. Though I never did get that badge you promised me.”

  “Oops. Guess we’ll have to—Holy c-ow!” He swore roundly, and swerved the Jeep off the road, coming to a teeth-grinding halt. “I think we’ve found our plane.” He pointed to the wreckage of a small prop plane mostly hidden beneath the canopy of pines.

  “Oh, my God.” Luce zipped out of the Jeep at a run. “It crash landed!”

  He took off after her. “Luce, don’t! It could be unstable!”

  They both stopped a few yards short of the bent and broken fuselage. It didn’t look good. The nose was crumpled and the windscreen shattered, both wings shorn off by the impact with pine trees.

  “It must have hit a treetop taking off or something.”

  “Where’s the airstrip?”

  “About half a mile farther up the road. Wait here,” he said, and started to pick his way through the underbrush toward the wreckage.

  “Not on your life.” She was right behind him when he saw the body. Stiff and chalky white, skin already flaking. Dead.

  “Aw, hell.”

  “Is it Clyde?”

  “Yeah.” He put his hands on his hips and let out a deep sigh. “Damn it. What did he think he was doing?”

  He felt her arms go around him from behind and her cheek press against his shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Philip” she murmured. “I know you wanted to clear him. I never dreamed we weren’t finding him because he was…dead.”

  Thinking of the man’s family, Philip pressed the heels of his palms against his forehead and swore. “How does a man go this bad this fast? I don’t understand what was driving him.”

  “We still don’t know he was bad,” Luce returned. “He might have been forced or blackmailed.”

  “Yeah.” He jetted out a harsh breath. “I suppose.”

  “We should check the hold. See if the shipment is still in there.”

  Luce was right, of course. On both counts. “You stay here. I’ll poke my head in where the wing ripped off.” He gingerly approached the plane and peered around inside. “Empty,” he said. “So what does that tell us?”

  “Someone else must be involved.”

  He nodded. “There could have been a second person in the plane who survived and got away with the shipment.”

  “Maybe the shipment was already gone when Clyde took the plane.”

  “Or someone deliberately brought the plane down and took it.”

  “Or came along after the crash, found the stuff and made off with it.”

  “Sounds like a job for a CSI. Who do you call in for forensics? Ted’s guys?”

  He laughed sardonically. “Forensics? I’ve never needed forensics on any case before. Hell, I don’t have cases in Piñon Lake. Nothing ever happens here.”

  She nodded, straight-faced. “Yeah, I’ve noticed that.”

  “Smart-aleck.” Twice in one day. This was getting downright ridiculous. Lost tourists—that’s what he was supposed to deal with. Not real crime. Certainly nothing that could bring national attention to his little village—and himself. Damn, damn, damn. “I better call Ted to bring in his team again.”

  “And the medical examiner.”

  “Yeah. Her, too.”

  “What’s that?” Luce asked, pointing to a jumble of things next to the pilot’s seat.

  Philip leaned in for a closer look. “Fast-food remnants. Jacket. Baseball cap. Good grief, it’s—” He reached in as far as he could, snagged the corner of a pile of oversize manila folders and carefully pulled them loose. “Legal files.”

  “Suzy’s missing files?” she asked excitedly.

  “I’m not sure—”

  Suddenly, the peaceful mountain air was shattered by the explosion of a gunshot.

  Instinctively, Philip clasped the files to his chest, grabbed Luce and dropped them both to the ground, rolling toward the cover of nearby trees.

  Another gunshot rang out. A bullet ripped through the metal of the plane behind them.

  Luce cursed quietly. “You carrying?” she whispered.

  “Beretta’s in the Jeep with your Walther. I wasn’t expecting trouble.”

  “We need to get to it. Create a diversion and I’ll run for it.”

  “No chance. I’ve got the key to the strongbox. I’ll run.” He gathered up several baseball-size rocks and handed them to her. “Throw these in the other direction and try to figure out where the shots are coming from.”

  She nodded and followed his silent countdown, throwing the first missile on zero. He took off at a sprint. He heard the rocks crash into the plane and tumble noisily down the other side, one after the other. Immediately several gunshots blasted. He wasn’t hit. He made it to the Jeep and dove onto the back bench, wincing as his shin hit a sharp edge. He held his breath for the next shot. The one that would take him down.

  Non
e came. The diversion had worked.

  In a flash he had his gun out and looked to Luce for direction. She pointed steadily to a copse of pines up the hill. He aimed and let five shots whale. Two more answered his, but they went wild. Then there was silence.

  Luce threw another few stones, but no more shots came. He beckoned, and she dashed to the Jeep. By the time she jumped in, he had the engine running and the wheels cranked for a U-turn. He tossed her the gun and they were out of there.

  At the first cow-catcher gate down the hill, he prayed the shooter wasn’t following them. “I’ll go,” he said.

  She nodded, and slid behind the wheel. Thankfully, they got through without incident.

  “Whew.” She let out a breath, her eyes meeting his. “That was exciting.”

  That kind of excitement he could do without, and he said so. Since Luce was now driving, he pulled out his cell phone. “I better call Ted. And Captain Segura. They’re both going to want to know about this.”

  “Should you call Joseph Clay Pipe?” she asked, gaze softening with sympathy.

  “Yeah. Better do that, too.”

  That was one phone call he was not looking forward to making.

  Philip had Luce park the Jeep behind some bushes where the road met the highway until Ted arrived. They stayed hidden in case the shooter tried to drive out that way. He didn’t. But Ted got there surprisingly quickly, so Philip helped secure the crime scene, then waited for Segura to arrive an hour later.

  “Only about half of the chips from this shipment showed up in the cache of stolen crates at the ruins,” Segura told them after taking a look at the plane.

  “Half? That’s strange,” Philip said.

  “Maybe they had a different buyer for the rest,” Ted said.

  “Or were interrupted taking the shipment off the plane.”

  “Maybe Clyde interrupted them,” Luce suggested. “When he was repairing the plane, he could have overheard the bad guys discussing plans for the theft. But instead of reporting it, he decided to rescue the shipment for his employer.”

  “Or hijacked the chips for himself,” Ted said.

  “Then where’s the rest of the shipment?” she asked.

  “Good point.”

  “Anyway, we know he’s been dead a few days by the decomposition of the body. Whatever it was, it must have happened the day the plane was stolen.”

  The M.E. walked by just then, accompanying two EMTs with Clyde’s remains in a body bag, and the four of them stood in a line watching.

  “Hopefully the forensics people will come up with something to narrow it down,” Philip said with a sigh.

  When the ambulance had gone, Ted gently cleared his throat. “Luce, can I see you for a sec? In private?”

  Philip struck up a conversation with Segura about what else they’d found at the cache, already knowing what was going on between Ted and Luce. He was taking the DNA swabs. Last night on the phone, they’d decided Ted should take two samples. One to send to the usual lab, which would take six weeks or more to get results back on. The other, Ted would overnight to the FBI in Albuquerque, who had a new field-test kit that would give instant results. Not nearly as reliable or complete, but hopefully enough to get a ruling one way or the other. She would only find out about Maria, since Peter hadn’t required a DNA test before burial, and therefore had no records to compare with Luce’s results. But it was a start.

  Philip could see them talking quietly, Luce with her arms crossed tightly over her chest, staring at the ground. He longed to go over and put his arms around her, to reassure her. But he had a feeling she wasn’t in the mood for that kind of gesture.

  And he didn’t feel like being rebuffed in front of half the Sheriff’s Department. Again. That scenario brought back way too many bad memories.

  He might be living in the present these days, but a fool he wasn’t.

  “Everything all right?” he asked, when she and Ted finally came over to rejoin them.

  She nodded, but he could tell she was upset and a million miles away.

  “We found the missing files from the lawyer’s office robbery, so we can have Jim Kendall released from jail,” Philip told Ted.

  “That should make Suzy happy.” His friend gave his shoulder a thump of solidarity. “You both look like you’re about to fall over.”

  “It’s been a long few days,” Philip admitted. “You need us anymore?”

  “Nah,” Ted said. “Get out of here and get some rest. Your job is done.”

  Philip tried to smile, but couldn’t. “Yeah.”

  His case was closed. And Luce’s.

  She’d be leaving soon. Maybe even tonight….

  He set his jaw determinedly. No. Not if he could help it. They had a few things to settle first.

  Like the fact that even now his child might be growing inside her.

  And the fact that even if it wasn’t, he didn’t want her to leave.

  Ever.

  The plain truth was, he was in love with Luce Montgomery. Totally, inescapably, head-over-heels in love with the woman. And this time, nothing…nothing…would stand in the way of him getting what he wanted. Which was her in his bed, in his home, and in his life.

  Permanently.

  Chapter 15

  On the way back to Philip’s, they stopped by the Shamrock Slipper to pick up some takeout for dinner. The delicious scent of chili and fresh-baked rolls permeated the small vehicle, but tonight it just made Luce queasy. She couldn’t stop thinking about the DNA test she’d just done. And wondering if it was the right choice.

  In her mind she knew it was. But her stomach was telling her it had been a big, fat mistake not to leave well enough alone.

  As a distraction, she called her boss to give him the news about Clyde.

  “I’m sorry,” Arthur said. “I know you were counting on the retrieval fee for your P.I. business.”

  “Yeah, well, there’ll be other jobs. I just feel awful about Clyde. That man had some terrible luck.”

  “When are you coming home? I’ll save the next jumper for you.”

  She shot a glance at Philip, who was studiously ignoring her conversation. “Not sure. I, uh, have a couple of things to clear up first.”

  Arthur chuckled. “Take all the time you need. But you be careful of the cops out there in New Mexico. I hear they have a way of casting spells on innocent young ladies.”

  “Guess I’m safe, then,” she drawled. “And don’t believe everything my mom tells you,” she added before saying goodbye.

  A scowling Philip pulled the Jeep into its usual parking spot at the edge of the cliff, where they’d watched their first sunset together. Neither of them moved.

  Once again the sun was going down, all red and purple and yellow and orange. It was so beautiful it made her heart hurt.

  Philip didn’t even seem to notice it. He ran his finger back and forth along the rim of the steering wheel, looking as if he had something other than sunsets and food on his mind.

  She didn’t know if she was ready for the conversation she knew was coming.

  “So, am I one of those things you have to clear up before leaving?” he asked, breaking the silence.

  She was definitely not ready for that conversation.

  “I was thinking more along the lines of the DNA test,” she said. Which was true enough. She didn’t even want to think about the other. She’d break down completely if she did.

  “Ah,” he said, sounding singularly unconvinced. “You’ll get the results tomorrow?”

  “That’s what Ted claims.”

  There was a pause. “Then what happens?”

  She rolled down the window and took a deep breath to settle her stomach. “I guess…I go back home. Assuming I’m not a Hidalgo. Which I am. Assuming.”

  “And what if you are a Hidalgo?”

  She closed her eyes and leaned her head back on the seat. She was still convinced she hadn’t found her real family. But what if she had? The thought terrif
ied her.

  “I don’t see that happening. It’s just too crazy.”

  “But if it did?”

  With difficulty, she tried to imagine what it would it be like to have blood relatives after all this time. What would they think of her?

  Probably not much.

  The Hidalgos were an old, wealthy, aristocratic family who didn’t even like having a bookkeeper in their midst. How would they react to an out-of-control bounty hunter crashing their ranks? One who’d been raised by a used-car salesman and an outspoken women’s libber. One who also threatened the status quo of the family hierarchy.

  She suddenly realized she was trembling. And scared to death. The fear that crawled down her spine was visceral, overwhelming.

  “They won’t want me,” she whispered.

  Philip touched her cheek. “Don’t be silly. Of course they’ll want you. Why wouldn’t they?”

  She stuck her hands under her armpits to make them stop shaking. “Maria Hidalgo married Peter Santander against both sets of parents’ wishes. Ted told me his mother is still alive.”

  “Hell, Luce, that would make you her granddaughter. I know if I had a lost granddaughter floating around, I’d want her back big-time.”

  Her throat closed up at the thought. “Maybe. But even if she did, the others wouldn’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Peter Santander was the oldest son. And Maria was heir to a fortune.”

  Philip didn’t respond for several moments. “I see your point,” he finally murmured. “Inheritances could be at stake.”

  “Why put myself through all that? I already have a perfectly good family, whom I love with all my heart.”

  Coward, coward!

  “Because if the Hidalgos and Santanders are your flesh and blood, they need to know the truth. At least they deserve to be told you exist.”

  She turned to look at him, surprised by the vehemence of his words and tone. “But what if knowing that only creates unhappiness and problems for everyone concerned?”