Sky High Stakes (Pacheco & Chino Mysteries Book 2)

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Sky High Stakes (Pacheco & Chino Mysteries Book 2) Page 8

by Ted Clifton


  Tony called his old boss, Bill, and once again apologized for quitting the way he had. Bill said he should do what his heart told him to do and wished the couple great happiness. Tony would miss him.

  Only a few months before, Tony could never have imagined that his life would be what it had now become. Married to the most beautiful woman in the world—who it turns out is rich. He felt pretty lucky.

  As they settled into Las Cruces, their life became centered on themselves. Kate was naturally a loner, and she loved the house they’d purchased. She spent hours working in the back yard and having projects done on the house. Tony couldn’t wait to get home each day and spend time with her. They were happy.

  Tony maintained some contacts in Houston. Jeffery Peterson was still missing, but now the police described him as presumed dead. No evidence, especially a body, was ever uncovered. Peterson’s parents’ attorneys cleaned up all of the legal matters. Kate had written Jeffery’s parents a letter telling them what had happened and returning the $250,000. She knew they probably hated her for not staying at the apartment and waiting on the police, or perhaps hated her because they thought she was lying and somehow involved. She didn’t reach out to them further and she heard nothing from them. She seemed to put it all behind her.

  More Killing

  Present Day, 1989—Truth or Consequences, New Mexico

  “Hello, this is Ray Pacheco.”

  “Sheriff Pacheco, this is Deputy Samson in Ruidoso.”

  “Well hello, deputy. I hear you’re doing a good job up there. What can I do for you?”

  “Thought you might want to know we just got a report out of El Paso that Sheriff Rodriguez was found dead. He had been shot once in the head—with a .22.”

  Ray got as much information as he could from the deputy. Rodriguez had been missing since he left the Ruidoso hospital months before. Most people assumed he’d gone to Mexico and would never be heard from again. Shot in the head with a .22—just like Marino. The only difference was that it was only one bullet. The Marino shooting had been a hate-driven crime—this sounded more like an execution. There just had to be some kind of connection.

  “I don’t think so.” Tyee was offering his opinion on Marino and Rodriguez murders being connected. “I think he was shot by one of the Mexican cartels—that sounds like their method of execution, and I don’t think they had anything to do with Marino. I still think that was personal, not business.”

  “Good analysis, Tyee. That makes a lot of sense. But still, another loose end in the Marino killing is eliminated. Maybe it’s the cartels—but it could also be someone tying up those loose ends.”

  “Yeah, but who? It’s somebody who has no trouble killing people. Is it someone we met in Ruidoso? Or is it more likely tied to drugs and hitmen?”

  “I know this isn’t our case, but I think maybe we should run up to Ruidoso and poke around a little bit more—what do you think, Tyee?”

  “Apaches have long history of riding long and far seeking truth and justice, let’s giddyup.”

  “Let’s giddyup?”

  “Yeah, let’s giddyup.”

  Ray wasn’t sure he wanted to be in the car with anyone who found it reasonable to say giddyup, but they put together plans to leave the next day.

  “Just heard from my cousin Beverly. She’s taking her two kids to Disneyland and will be driving through in a couple of days. She wants to stop and visit.” Sue looked like she had just been told about an impending alien invasion.

  “Uh, is that a good thing?”

  “It’s a fucking disaster. She’s the most annoying person I’ve ever been around. She lives in Denver with her equally annoying husband, although he isn’t going to be with her. The last time I saw her was twenty years ago, when she was a very annoying child. Ray, my family is a complete mess. I’m not kidding when I tell you I’m the only normal person in my whole damn family—and you know I have more problems than sense. I can’t imagine how bad her kids must be. She totally caught me off guard and I didn’t know what to say.”

  “How did she even know where you lived?”

  “I’d invited her older sister, who was kinda a pal of mine when were younger, to our wedding. I knew she wouldn’t come because she still lives in upstate New York. Beverly said she got my information from her sister and was so excited about seeing us.”

  “Well Sue, my dear, I think the best thing for you to do is to be nice for a short span of time and hope for the best. She’ll probably just stay one night—how bad can it be?”

  “Wait a minute. You’re not going to be here are you?”

  “I don’t know. I’m going to Ruidoso tomorrow with Tyee to follow up on some things but I don’t expect to be gone long. When will she be here?”

  “Tomorrow night. How did you know about this?”

  “Sue, I didn’t know about your cousin. Look, if you want me to be here, I’ll stay here and go to Ruidoso the next day.”

  Sue was frowning but also thinking.

  “No, this isn’t your burden to bear. She’s my crazy relative.”

  Ray gave Sue a hug. He told her he’d try to be back as soon as possible and was sorry he was going to miss her cousin, but he privately thought that dumb luck had allowed him to dodge a bullet. A crazy cousin with two kids sounded very much like something to avoid at all cost.

  The morning was cool and misty, unusual weather for the high desert.

  “What’s the plan of action once we get to Ruidoso?”

  “First we’re going to stay in town rather than at the Inn—cheaper and closer. Some place called Mountain Manor. Next, we want to see Deputy Samson and hear what he has to say. We’ll check in with the new Sheriff of course, and I thought we should drop in on Dick Franklin and see how the horse racing business is getting along. From there we’ll just react to what we learn.”

  “Well that definitely sounds like a plan. How about the ceremonial police chief?”

  “Yeah, Chief Nelson. Not sure he’d be much help, but as I said before he’s a world class gossip, so we should probably drop in on him and get all of the latest dirt about the fine citizens of Ruidoso.”

  “I guess one other unanswered question is about Tony’s wife’s half-sister. Do we know if she made any attempt to contact Marino when she was visiting her half-sister in Santa Fe?”

  “No, and it’s starting to piss me off just a little. I have yet to get a straight answer from Tony. He’s just stonewalling the whole situation. The small pistol, the viciousness of the shooting—that could fit with an act by an ex-wife fueled by anger. But it’s hard to pursue that angle and not step on Tony’s toes—not sure I want to do that just yet.”

  “Of course there are other options. This Marino guy apparently was hated by half of the county—could be we don’t have any idea who did it or why.”

  “Sure, no question. We’re working with what we can see, but this could be something that was only known to Marino and the shooter. In that case we may not be able to identify the killer. But something tells me it wasn’t a one-time random event—somehow this is all tied together, and Sheriff Rodriguez being shot in El Paso convinces me that the killer is still active in whatever mischief caused these crimes.”

  Happy stayed with Sue this time, so it was just Ray and Tyee in the old Jeep. The seasons were changing, so as they climbed in altitude there was a noticeable change in temperature. Leaving the desert floor at Alamogordo the temperature was in the mid-eighties, but as they climbed the mountain it dropped into the low sixties. In another month they’d start getting snow in Ruidoso. Ray liked the contrast and found it invigorating to be in the mountains, but he was sure he didn’t want to live in a place that often got many feet of snow in a single day.

  As they pushed up the mountain, the old Jeep had some trouble keeping their speed close to the limit. One of these days Ray would have to retire the trusty old beast, and it didn’t make him happy. Easing over the top of the last pass, they began a long downhill drop into down
town Ruidoso. They found the Mountain Manor on the main drag through town. It was many steps down from their previous stay at the Inn of the Mountain Gods, but it was convenient. They checked in and deposited their gear.

  “Tina, how are you doing?”

  “Hello Mr. Pacheco, Mr. Chino. I’m doing great. Everything is much better. So much has changed since you were here last. It feels like a real sheriff’s department now. Sheriff James is just wonderful and really has everyone working together. I have people telling me every day how much better everything is—I’m proud to work here now.”

  “That’s great Tina. You had a lot to do with getting things cleaned up—you should be proud of what you’ve done for your town.” Tina blushed in a little girl fashion. If she’d had them Ray thought she’d be twirling her curls—it was a very cute reaction to the compliment.

  “Is Sheriff James in?”

  “No, he’s actually out most of the day. He’s taking a tour of the northern area of the county and meeting with some city officials. He’ll be back this evening.”

  “How about Deputy Samson?”

  “Well he’s also out, but just on patrol. Let me call him on the radio and see where he is.”

  Tina got ahold of the deputy, who agreed to meet Ray and Tyee at a Dairy Queen about two miles north of the administrative building.

  Ray pulled in next to the deputy’s patrol car. Deputy Samson was standing outside his vehicle, eating a soft-serve ice cream cone.

  “Ray, I’m going to have one of those cones you want one?”

  “You go ahead Tyee, I’m going to pass for now.”

  “Good to see you Sheriff.”

  “Well it’s good to see you deputy. I was just visiting with Tina and she was saying everything was much better with the department.”

  “Completely different. Sheriff James is a real professional. The old sheriff, even before Marino started with his thug tactics, wasn’t nothing but a good ol’ boy—he didn’t know anything about how to run a professional law enforcement agency. But Sheriff James has us involved in training and following procedures. He’s teaching all of us what it means to be a professional staff. It’s taken some getting used to, but I think everyone feels like we’re much better at protecting people and following the rules so we don’t have any screwups. I’m proud to be a part of this sheriff’s department.”

  “I’m so glad it’s worked out for you and the town. Anything else you can tell me about Sheriff Rodriguez?”

  “Not much. The El Paso police said it looked like a professional job. There were no forensics, finger prints—nothing at the scene that could lead to the killer. They’ve seen a lot of this kind of killing with the cartel drug wars. Their best guess was that it was a cartel-related execution—or someone trying to make it look like a drug execution.”

  “What did you think about Rodriguez as sheriff?” Ray still couldn’t get a good feeling for who Rodriguez really was.

  “Well, I hate to bad mouth the dead, but he wasn’t very good. Like I said, he was a good ol’ boy. He liked to drink beer and hang out. I don’t think he was a very dedicated officer of the law. Not sure how he kept getting re-elected—could be it was just that he never really offended anyone, because he did so little.”

  “Do you think he could have been the one who set up the drug operation?” Tyee interjected between licks off of his ice cream cone.

  “Well he obviously had something to do with it, but my impression was that he was not a leader—he was the sort of guy who gets bossed around. While I’d say he wasn’t very good at his job, I’m still surprised by the things that went on in the department. He was lazy and probably not the brightest guy on the planet, but I don’t think anyone would’ve said he was an evil person. Everything started going downhill when the new deputies were hired. And the hiring of Marino was just bizarre. Why he’d hire an obvious hoodlum as a deputy never made any sense. Plus Rodriguez seemed just as intimidated by Marino as anyone.”

  “Do you think Rodriguez could have known Marino before he hired him?”

  “I didn’t see any indication of that. They sure weren’t pals of any sort. The story was that Marino was here from the East Coast visiting a cousin, but I never saw the cousin or even heard his name. If anything I’d have said that Rodriguez didn’t like Marino and didn’t want to have anything to do with him.”

  “Guess some of your previous deputies have resigned, and I believe six have been charged with criminal violations. I heard those were mostly related to distribution of illegal drugs. Do you think Rodriguez was the one heading up that group or was it Marino?”

  “Those six deputies were the worst guys we had. I think four of them were recent hires, and they seemed more loyal to Marino than Rodriguez. Even with that, though, I’d have to say Rodriguez was right in the middle of the whole mess. What it seemed like to me was that someone else was running the show and Rodriguez and Marino were kind of equal and competing first lieutenants.”

  “Suppose that was true, any guesses on who was running the operation?”

  “No clue at all. If I was going to take a wild stab it would be someone from El Paso or Juarez—nobody local.”

  “Yeah, that might make sense. Plus that could explain Rodriguez being killed in El Paso.”

  “One other thing. I got a call this morning from Tito Annoya. Even though the evidence wasn’t strong enough to charge Tito, there’s no question he was funneling some of the drugs through his clubs. But I think he’s just a small part of the big picture. Anyway, he called this morning because he heard about Rodriguez and he wanted protection. I told him I wasn’t sure what the sheriff’s department could do under the circumstances, but that I’d discuss it with Sheriff James. Then I asked if he was willing to give us inside information about the drug trafficking business and he hung up.”

  “Interesting. He thinks someone killed Rodriguez because of what was going on here and might want to kill him too. That sounds like he thinks he knows who it is.”

  They talked further while Tyee had another ice cream cone. Ray told the deputy that he thought they might go by Tito’s club to see if he was there and that he’d let him know if anything happened.

  “Ya know, Ray, I kind of like that idea that someone in El Paso was behind all of this. And I also think there may be a link with the previous sheriff in Sierra Vista.”

  “Could be. Not sure what makes sense. Sometimes I think this is just a little scam that got out of hand, and other times I wonder if there isn’t something bigger behind all of this.”

  Heading south down Main Street, they quickly found themselves in front of the Tito Club. Pulling into a parking spot in front, the old Jeep looked right at home—most of the patrons at Tito’s were not real status-conscious about their vehicles. Although it appeared imperative to have huge wheels—the cab step up on some of the pickups had to be almost three feet off the ground. Probably not a lot of short guys in the club.

  It was late afternoon and most of the customers in the club appeared to be more interested in drinking than anything else—even the music seemed subdued for this mixture of ruffians. The place was dark, so Ray and Tyee took a few moments by the door letting their eyes adjust.

  “Hi, my name is Ray Pacheco and this is Tyee Chino. We’re working with the Attorney General and would like to have a word with Tito Annoya. Is he in?”

  The bartender gave them a stare that suggested he’d just as soon shoot them as serve them a beer. After a while, thinking maybe he was deaf, Ray started to repeat his question.

  “I heard you the first time. I don’t know where in the fuck he is and I don’t care, and you can go to hell along with the Attorney General. And by the way, we don’t allow no fuckin’ Indians in this bar.” The man turned slightly to glance at his audience sitting along the bar. He had a smug look on his face, as if he’d just scored some sort of victory for his team.

  In a move that will probably be passed down in bar lore, Tyee jumped flat-footed over the bar and s
wiftly secured the bartender, placing him on the floor—dislocating his shoulder in the process.

  “Don’t kill him, Tyee.” This got everyone’s attention. Most headed towards the door, although some hung back to see what was going to happen. The bartender screamed in pain and ill-advisedly cursed the huge Indian sitting on his back.

  “Let me ask you again. You answer real nice and I’ll call an ambulance for you. If you don’t, who knows what happens next. Where’s Tito?”

  “He left about an hour ago and said he was going out of town for a few days. Told me to tell anyone looking for him to go to hell.”

  In a move that took Ray by surprise, Tyee bent down and forced the bartender’s shoulder back into place. The man screamed, then fainted. Tyee got a wet towel and placed it over the unconscious man’s face.

  “He’ll be fine. I’ve had my shoulder separated playing football a half a dozen times—hurts like hell, but usually no major damage. Sorry I overreacted. Tired of assholes like this guy.”

  “This is really strange. You do remember Big Jack did almost the same thing to some drunk on his dock at the bait shop. Did he teach you that move?”

  “After that happened I asked Big Jack to show me what he did—it’s really pretty simple and amazingly effective. Now, the jumping part isn’t something Big Jack could do.”

  “My story is going to be he looked like he was going for a gun and you had to react quickly. None of these people in here will say anything at all to a deputy, not even to contradict our story. I’m just surprised you could move like that—I’m going to have to be nicer to you.”

  “Indian likes the sound of that.”

  They called an ambulance anyway, and also called the sheriff’s department. While they waited for the deputies and ambulance they looked in Tito’s backroom and office, but didn’t find anyone. All the customers had left once it was clear nothing else was going to happen and that the deputies would be there soon.

  The deputies had no problem believing that the bartender initiated the confrontation. The bartender regained consciousness and yelled that he’d been attacked by the fucking Apache and almost killed. It was pretty universally agreed that it might have been better if the Apache had killed the bastard. The deputies searched the bar and found a .38 special pistol, a sawed-off shotgun, and an impressive assortment of drugs. The bartender was going to be charged with a long list of crimes.

 

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