Sky High Stakes (Pacheco & Chino Mysteries Book 2)

by Ted Clifton

  “Do you know who killed Sheriff Rodriguez?”

  “No. My guess is that it has something to do with my father. Where he was killed and the way he was killed is exactly how it would be done by the cartel.”

  “Someone took a shot at Tito, do you know anything about that?”

  “No, nothing.”

  “Isabella, you’re going be charged with drug trafficking. Also, if Nelson killed Marino you’ll be charged with murder, or at the very least accessory to murder. The more you cooperate with the investigators and prosecutors, the better it’ll go for you. Do you know where you father is now?”

  “He could still be at Tularosa. He’s not thinking straight at all, so he could do almost anything—plus those thugs he has working for him will do whatever he says. If he’s left, the only place he could go would be Mexico.”

  “When did you last talk to you father?”

  “When I left after he hit me. I’ve been hiding, trying to figure what to do. I haven’t talked to anyone.”

  “Do you know where Nelson is?”

  “More than likely still in Ruidoso. I doubt he even knows that I’ve disappeared, so he’s probably still waiting before he runs.”

  Ray stood and turned off the recorder. He looked at her. How could someone who had everything lose it all so fast? He knew he shouldn’t, but he felt sorry for her.

  “I work for the governor—maybe he can help you. I’ll tell him your story. Good luck Isabella.”

  Home Sweet Home

  Ray got into his Jeep and started home feeling terribly sad. There was something so upsetting about Isabella’s story—it made him want to be in Sue’s arms.

  Officer Clarke had made a copy of the tape and he gave one to Ray before he left, saying that he’d call the DA’s office and let them know that trafficking charges should be filed. While most of the dealing had been done in Lincoln County, the confession included references to crimes in Bernalillo County, so the Albuquerque prosecutors could file charges to make sure she continued to be held in custody. Ray had told the officer that he was worried about her safety if she was released, and that she should be placed on suicide watch.

  Ray also asked the officer to contact the sheriff’s office in Lincoln County and ask them to arrest and hold Police Chief Nelson on charges of drug trafficking and on suspicion of murder.

  The drive home went by quickly, and by dusk he was pulling into the cabin driveway. He parked and walked to the door. There was no greeting, from human or dog, but then Ray realized he hadn’t called anyone to let them know he was headed back. He went inside and turned on the light.

  There was a note.

  Tyee told me you had to go to Albuquerque. I’m sorry. I hope you get to come home tonight. Happy’s with Tyee. I went out to have a cup of coffee with Nancy. I may have started something—she seems real taken with Tyee. Anyway, I should be home by seven.

  Love, Sue.

  Ray walked down to Tyee’s and went into the office. Happy was in the corner, sound asleep. He quickly responded when he saw Ray and gave his usual joyful greeting. Good ol’ dogs.

  “Hey, what happened?” Ray hadn’t seen Tyee sitting behind his computer. Ray gave him a shortened version of the story.

  “What a tragedy.”

  “I know—it’s very depressing. But it’s beginning to all point to Nelson. Funny, I remember telling you that he was too lazy to be involved, and now it looks like he may be the key to everything.” He shook his head. “Think me and my pooch will call it a night. See ya tomorrow.”

  Ray and Happy went up to the cabin. Ray felt nervous and unhappy and decided to have a scotch and water—unusual for him. He’d just fixed his drink and was sitting at the kitchen table when Sue walked in. He was happy—even a little relieved—to see her, and they hugged while Ray told her Isabella’s story. Sue cried, and it surprised him. He fixed her a drink and they sat and thought about all the complexities life throws at us.

  “I’m not sure, but there’s some chance that Nancy’s in love with Tyee.”

  “What does Tyee say?”

  “Nothing to me or Nancy. That’s why she called me—she wants more help. I know you told me not to get involved, but I just wanted Tyee to have a date—I had no idea that she’d fall in love.”

  “Well, the election for mayor is next week so let’s do a watch party. You can invite whoever you want. We can do it in the large space in the outbuilding. It’ll be less formal and they can get a chance to meet again.”

  “Well my, my—aren’t you romantic.”

  “Actually, I am.” He took her hand and they left Happy to sleep alone—which was fine with him.

  Ray decided to go down and see how Big Jack was doing, just two days away from Election Day. It had been a while since he’d been in the store, but ever since Chester had arrived the whole experience had changed. One of the unique things about Big Jack’s store had been the smell—some people thought it was offensive, but Big Jack said it was authentic. Somehow Chester had eliminated it. He’d been interrogated about the source of the smell, but so far had refused to say what it had come from. Many people thought it was best simply not to know.

  The store was an eclectic collection of the old and the modern. The old was Big Jack, while Chester had brought in modern shelving and displays. The result seemed like a study in indecision—who was in charge here? Ray wasn’t sure. Big Jack owned the store, but in many ways it was now more Chester’s store—although Big Jack had declared the dock areas off limits to Chester’s modern ways. Ray found Big Jack in his usual spot, drinking a beer and smoking a grotesque-smelling cigar.

  “I’m surprised Chester lets you smoke that thing so close to the store.”

  “Fuck Chester. You know he’s a skinny little shit—anytime I want I could pound him into the ground.”

  “Well, we have a short fuse today.”

  “Fuck, Fuck. I have no fuse at all. I don’t know Ray. It’s like I’m all wound up and ready to pop. I have the election. I have Chester, who wants to do some kind of business school analysis of the bait shop. What the fuck is that? It’s a fuckin’ bait shop. And then there’s Beverly—which is your goddamn fault.”

  Ray was rethinking his decision to drop in for a friendly visit.

  “Jack, I’m not sure anything about Beverly is my fault. If it is, I guess I’m willing to apologize, but to tell you the truth I’m not real sure what you’re talking about.”

  “Well, okay, not your fault. It’s your wife’s fault—same difference.”

  “What’s the problem with Beverly?”

  “She wants to open a restaurant in the fucking bait shop. Can you believe that? A fucking restaurant.”

  “Okay, Jack. I’m trying to understand. What’s the problem with her opening a restaurant in the bait shop?” Ray could think of several potential problems, but wanted to hear what specifically was bothering Jack.

  “It would just change everything. Guys come in here to talk fishing, and sports, and to talk about women. How the hell can that go on with a woman in the store fixing tea and shit?”

  “She wants to open a tea shop?”

  “Fuck no. She wants to sell tacos. And don’t get me wrong, those are some of the best damn tacos I’ve ever eaten, but it’s just not right.”

  Ray figured he understood. Big Jack was protecting his turf. First it had been Chester, with all of his improvements, and now Beverly wants to invade his space. The bait shop had never been about making money, it was about a certain attitude. Big Jack had the attitude, most of his regular fishing customers had the attitude—Chester didn’t, and obviously a woman wouldn’t. Big Jack was probably still pissed that Chester had managed to get rid of the offensive smell—now they’d have to meet health department standards. It was more than the man could take.

  “Beverly’s a lot of fun and I’m enjoying being with her. But opening a restaurant? I don’t know—it just seems too permanent.”

  “Have you talked to Beverly about this
?”

  “Not yet. That’s why I’m so tense. Fuck. I guess I’ll have to talk to her, but I really don’t want to. Maybe Sue could talk to her?”

  “I’d imagine Sue would say you need to handle your own problems with Beverly. Maybe you should rethink this problem with the restaurant. I sure understand it would change the atmosphere you’ve nurtured for the store, but things are changing. You’re going to be mayor—that means you won’t be here as much. You have responsibilities with the PI business. Maybe having Beverly around the store to help Chester when you’re not here isn’t a bad idea. And you say it’s permanent—it probably isn’t, but if it is, is that so bad? This isn’t a marriage, Jack, it’s a business deal. You write up a lease where you share a percentage of the restaurant’s sales, and if Beverly makes a go of it maybe you’ll make some money.”

  Big Jack’s frown indicated deep thought. Ray wasn’t sure about a restaurant in the store, mostly because of the location. The bait shop had customers but most of that business was early-morning fishermen, who weren’t likely to be taco customers even if you were open early. There were a lot of people living around the lake, but it was still a good trip for most of them to get to the bait shop. Ray had the feeling this would be a very temporary project that Beverly would soon tire of.

  “Well hell, Ray, guess I won’t fight it. Just keep the costs down and see what happens—no reason to start a fuckin’ war if it’s not going to work out anyway.”

  “I think that’s a wise decision. Now how about some coffee?”

  Ray sat on the dock with Big Jack and went over the status of the Ruidoso matter. Jack felt bad for Isabella, as Ray and Sue had, and was surprised that the do-nothing police chief might turn out to have been the trigger for all of this grief. The conversation quickly turned to the election and what Big Jack thought would happen.

  “Hard to tell about the election. You know, when we helped the sheriff get elected it was county-wide, and he carried most of the districts outside of the city limits—but this election is just the T or C district. I know I have the support of all the lake people, but they can’t vote. My guess right now is that it’ll be very close. Mayor Martinez still has his followers, as well as people who owe him something, or who are just afraid of what I might do—so he’ll get votes. Some people will vote for me because they hate Martinez, but there are people who’ll vote for him because they think I’m an outsider who could screw up their town. So I see it being very even, with only a few votes deciding the outcome.”

  “Yeah, I agree, it’ll be close. People at the café have told Sue that the Mayor is telling all the city employees that if you’re elected you’ll fire them all and give their jobs to people you’ll bring in from LA.”

  “Not a bad idea.”

  “What will you do if you’re elected?”

  “You know I’ve thought about that. Almost every city employee is some kind of Martinez crony. I wouldn’t fire them, but I’d gradually put standards in place for each job and some kind of testing procedure to ensure that the most qualified person gets the position, whether they had a connection with someone or not. So the first move would be better hiring practices. Second, I’d look at annexing more land around the lake. Martinez did some of that, but he did it for the wrong reasons—this lake people verses city people thing needs to stop. Third, I would look at increasing tourism. I know every politician in the world says something like that, but it’s still a good idea. I was wondering if maybe there was some way the city could invest some money in the Hot Springs Inn. I know there’d be legal issues, but the city needs a focus—maybe revitalizing a landmark would be just the thing. Anyway, I’d try and be active and positive for all of the people of the town.”

  Ray stood up and began clapping. “Three cheers for the mayor!”

  Big Jack stood and took a bow.

  Confession Two

  Ray hung up the phone, walked over to Tyee’s desk, and took a seat.

  “That was Sheriff James. They tried to execute the warrant for Police Chief Nelson, but he’d already skipped town. Said it looked like he left in a hurry and wasn’t coming back. The sheriff has put out alerts to all the sheriff departments in New Mexico and some in Texas, and he’s notified the police departments in Albuquerque and El Paso. They searched the police office and found a .30-30 rifle. They’ll be sending it to the lab to compare it with the casings that were found. They’re filing murder charges against Nelson.”

  “Think Nelson killed Marino?”

  “I do. The first day I talked to him it was obvious he hated Marino. He should have been the number one suspect from the beginning, but it just seemed out of character for him to shoot Marino with a little .22 pistol. Anyway, they’ll find him soon—can’t see Nelson blending into the background. Sheriff also said that they went to Tularosa with a small army to arrest Ortega, but he’d also left. There was a gardener still there working—said even though everyone had left he felt responsible for the plants. He said they were all fired a couple of days ago. Looked like everything valuable had been removed from the house. The sheriff said he was sure Ortega must have headed to Mexico, so he’s notified the border patrol and El Paso officials that Ortega’s wanted for questioning in a murder.”

  “Bet he’s never heard from again. He’s not Nelson—he’ll disappear into Mexico.”

  “Yeah, I think you’re right.”

  “What’s on our horizon? Any other cases pending?”

  “Well, it just so happens that I had a call from the governor’s office. His chief of staff wants us to do a research project into the San Juan County Sheriff’s Office. They’re concerned about purchasing patterns involving old military equipment. The governor thinks the sheriff has started his own white supremacist militia and wants to know if we can analyze the data and prove that they’ve transferred weapons and other hardware out of the department. They’ve given me access codes to various state databases.”

  “Does that mean a visit to Farmington in our future?”

  “I hope not.”

  “We could visit my Navajo brother warriors. The Navajo and Apache wars are part of our common history fighting the evil white man.”

  “You’re starting to make me nervous.”

  “Good.”

  Tyee concentrated on the San Juan computer project, while Ray worked on enjoying changes in his current daily schedule. Ray had thought about having a conversation with Tyee about Nancy, but decided that he’d already butted in as much as he was comfortable with and would let Sue go ahead as the sole matchmaker in the family.

  “Ray, got a phone call for you from the El Paso Police Department.”

  “Ray Pacheco.”

  “Mr. Pacheco, this is Sergeant Vargus with the El Paso PD. Sheriff James from Ruidoso asked me to contact you. Larry Nelson, the police chief from Ruidoso, was captured this morning. There was a standoff at a motel in downtown El Paso. He was trying to get out the back and fell from a first story window. He hit his head on the concrete and also broke a leg. The biggest thing, though, is that he had a heart attack. He’s in the University Medical Center, in intensive care. If you want to see him, you better get here quick.”

  So much for the slower pace he expected. Ray got details regarding the location of the hospital and how to contact Vargus.

  “How about a trip to El Paso?”

  Ray and Tyee headed out immediately, and the trip took about two hours. All the way, Ray was hoping that Nelson wouldn’t die before they got there. It seemed like a harsh thing to wish for, but he wanted to wrap up the open questions about the events in Ruidoso. He didn’t hate Larry Nelson, but it was nonetheless his actions that had led to five people dying—maybe he didn’t do it personally, but the things he’d set in motion had made it happen, so the responsibility was his.

  The hospital complex was a large, sprawling group of buildings. They left the Jeep in the parking garage and went inside. Ray asked for directions to the IC unit, and they were directed into a maze of hal
lways that eventually led to the IC area. Finding their way back to where they’d started without help would be impossible.

  Ray introduced himself to the guard on duty, who said that he’d been cleared by Sergeant Vargus. They entered the IC unit, where a nurse stopped them and asked them their business. Ray told her he was there on behalf of the state of New Mexico, where the patient had committed several crimes, and he wanted to ask him some questions. The nurse wasn’t pleased and left in a huff to find someone with more authority who could kick them out.

  Larry Nelson looked bad—he appeared to be dying before their very eyes. Ray’s approach softened.

  “Larry, can you hear me?”

  Nelson didn’t move and Ray wondered if maybe they were too late.

  “Well, if it’s not the asshole Pacheco and his Indian fighter.”

  Larry Nelson—still alive, still annoying.

  “Larry, you know you’re in IC and in bad shape. You broke some things when you fell and you also had a heart attack.”

  “Yeah. Old fuckers like me shouldn’t be on the run—we aren’t very good at it.”

  He seemed to be responding to the stimulus of having someone to talk to.

  “Can you tell me what happened in Ruidoso? Did you kill Marino?”

  “Ray, you don’t have to shout, my hearing is okay. Yeah, I’ll help you clean up the mess I made. You know Ray, I’m no fuckin’ saint, but I didn’t mean for anything to become deadly. I just wanted to make some money so I could retire. It was going to be so simple. I knew about Ortega and his drug connections from my time in Houston. When I found out he was living down in Tularosa, I thought it’d be simple to just ask him to sell me drugs—well, that was a stupid idea. I thought the old fart was going to have me killed that very day. So I just forgot about it—I had no idea how I could get drugs from Mexico unless Ortega arranged it, so the deal was over. Then one day that beautiful daughter of his, Isabella, came to see me. She said she could supply the drugs.”

  “Then you recruited Sheriff Rodriguez, Tito, and Marino?”