Sky High Stakes (Pacheco & Chino Mysteries Book 2)

by Ted Clifton

  Sue decided not to join Ray at the governor’s office for their meeting. She was going to walk around the Plaza for a little while, then take a rest and wait for him to return. For his part, Ray decided that he’d walk to the appointment, so he left in plenty of time and began his trek. It was a glorious morning. One of the benefits of the high altitude was cool mornings—even when it was in the nineties during the afternoon, the mornings always started off very mild. It was a great time to walk in the lovely little city.

  Ray let the Governor’s secretary know he was there and took a seat to wait. Not a minute later, the governor opened the door and told him to get his ass inside.

  “Ray that was one hell of a job you did getting all of that nonsense in Ruidoso straightened out. Son of a bitch! I’d never had guessed that Marino had been shot by his ex-wife. If that asshole Marino had nine lives like a cat, he’d still be dead—there were that many people and more who wanted that bastard permanently retired.”

  “No question governor, the guy was bad news. Probably not a good thing to say, but the world might be better off without Mr. Marino.”

  “That’s a goddamn understatement. Ray, I wanted to talk to you about what to do with some of these people. You may or may not have heard this, but that Isabella person has been released from jail. I know she made a confession—actually, that was to you wasn’t it? Well, I guess she changed her mind or something. She hired the top dog fuckin’ lawyer in Albuquerque, and he got a judge to toss the confession because her rights hadn’t been properly read to her—can you fuckin’ believe that? Anyway, without the confession the prosecutor is saying he doesn’t have a case. Anyone who could testify against her is dead. The only asshole alive is some moron name Tito, but the prosecutor says he never saw Isabella and only knew she was running things because all the dead SOB’s told him so—so it’s just hearsay, she walks.”

  “Sounds like I may have contributed to that little foul up. I should have asked if she’d been read her rights—my mistake. On the other hand, it may not be perfect justice but she’s suffered a lot. I’m not sad that she won’t have to serve time.”

  “What are you some kinda’ fucking liberal? My god Ray, we need to put more people in jail, not less. Jeez! And now, for the next innocent murderess. Lisa Collins has also hired what looks like some kind of Harvard glee club or something. The prosecutor says he can make a circumstantial case, but without a witness or some other corroborating evidence the gun might not be enough to convict her—in his most humble opinion. The prosecutor thinks that if we push real hard and bring out the big threat of jail time, that we can get Kate Garcia to testify against her half-sister and then he thinks he can win. But—fuck, there’s always a ‘but,’ isn’t there? He says that the most likely outcome is a conviction on a lesser breed of murder, or even manslaughter. He says her attorneys have developed a pretty good case that she was suffering from diminished capacity and can’t be held fully responsible for her actions. Isn’t that somethin’? And guess who the prosecutor says would be a no-brainer to charge and convict: Kate Garcia, as an accessory. Her actions after the fact were clearly made with a clear mind and allowed Lisa to leave the state. What a bunch of bullshit.”

  “The law doesn’t always get things right.”

  “Fuck, Ray, you’re a philosopher. Well, I’m a philosopher too. I won’t pursue a prosecution of Kate, because she got blindsided by her crazy half-sister and then tried to help her. Kate and Tony could have stayed quiet about the whole damn thing and we’d have never unraveled it. So you can tell Tony, nobody in the state of New Mexico will prosecute him or his wife. They can even come back here and vacation if they want—the crazy fuckin’ governor won’t arrest them.”

  “Tony will be very happy to hear that, governor.”

  “Yeah, the only people we can arrest and convict are penniless bastards who then live like fuckin’ kings on the state’s dime.”

  The governor really needed a bigger audience this morning—he was in rare form.

  “As far as the sister goes, I had them offer manslaughter with a three to five year sentence—meaning she could be out in less than two years. With that many goddamn Harvard lawyers there’s always a chance that they’ll figure out some way that we actually owe her millions of dollars for our shitty attitude.”

  “Governor, I’m glad the people of Ruidoso can go back to more normal lives. And Sheriff James is an excellent sheriff—he’ll do a great job and not bother you.”

  “You’re on the ball Ray, ‘cause that’s what I want. Do your goddamn job and don’t bother me. Ray, as soon as we get a new AG in place I want you and your lovely wife to visit us again so we can talk about some additional things we want your group to do for us. I want to personally thank you for a good job.”

  Ray thanked the governor and left. On his walk back to the hotel he thought about it and decided that, all in all, most things had worked out okay. The one exception was Dick Franklin. By all accounts he wasn’t involved in anything, but he ended up being killed nonetheless. Ray was as close to sure as you could get without being completely certain that responsibility for his death lay with some of the goons who worked for Isabella’s father. That was something that should never have happened. As Sue said, some people just had bad karma and nothing ever worked out for them.

  The walk seemed shorter going back to the hotel than it had in the other direction. It was close to lunch time, and Ray was hungry again. He’d been told that the altitude gave everyone here a good appetite—he sure knew it worked on him.

  Ray and Sue debated and finally settled on a salad. The large breakfast would probably give them enough calories for the day, but still they needed something. Ray gave Sue a recap of what the governor had said.

  “Sounds like he’s trying to be fair.”

  “It does in a way. One reason he’s being fair, though, is there’s some high-dollar legal talent on the other side who have forced the state into a corner. But even with his bluster, I kind of like the governor.”

  “Do you think Tony would ever come back to New Mexico?”

  “Kind of doubt it. He and Kate will establish their life in Boston and New Mexico will just become a memory.”

  “How about Michael, do you think he’ll visit?”

  “Don’t know that either. I had a feeling at the time that he might think about it. But when you have to take off and arrange to stop delivery for your paper and find someone to mow your lawn—I don’t know, might just be too much trouble.”

  “I’m glad you got to talk to him.”

  “Yeah, me too.”

  Isabella Ortega Franklin

  Tularosa, New Mexico

  Isabella had always lived in isolation. Her family’s hacienda in Tularosa was remote and well-guarded—no one accidently entered the compound. She seldom came into contact with strangers—the only people she saw were her tutors and the staff who maintained the residence and did the cooking. She knew no other kind of life and so wasn’t aware of the things that were missing in her young life. Her companion, teacher, and best friend was her mother, Clara. Clara Ortega was Isabella’s entire universe. She didn’t resent Clara for this, she loved her—she knew nothing else.

  Growing up, her father stayed away for weeks at a time—off doing battle with somebody. When he came home he was like a king, always yelling at her mother. Isabella hated it when he was there. She’d hide in her room and worry about her mother. He even hit her mother once and Isabella saw it—she swore that one day she’d kill the bastard.

  When her father was gone, which was most of the time, Isabella and her mother were very happy. They lived in a protected world and enjoyed each other’s company. As Isabella grew older, her mother would take her on trips. They usually were gone for only a few days, a week at most—visiting Albuquerque, El Paso, Phoenix, San Antonio, and Houston. On these trips they’d shop and go to museums, or see a movie or a play. Isabella was fascinated by the “outside” world, but also wary. Crowds bothered
her and sometimes the noise of the big cities would give her headaches. She enjoyed the trips, and thought she learned a lot, but she was most comfortable at home.

  “Mother, what do you think I will be when I grow up?”

  “A princess, my dear. The most beautiful princess in the whole world.”

  Isabella often wondered what a princess in Tularosa, New Mexico, actually did. She decided that when the time was right her mother would tell her.

  Her mother’s most-often repeated advice was about Isabella’s father, Andres Ortega. Her mother hated her father, and often told Isabella to be careful around him. She had told her young, impressionable daughter that her father was a violent, uncultured man who might do anything. Isabella was terrified of her father.

  “You must learn to accept that you are a special person and you have responsibilities because of your upbringing. You must study and learn so that you will be ready when it is your time to act.”

  Her mother had said things like this to Isabella for as long as she could remember. It was never clear to her if her mother had some specific plan for her, or just a general idea that Isabella was important. Her mother had told her if they lived in Spain she’d be a princess and would be honored and adored.

  Isabella did as she was told, practicing being a lady in a world she was never allowed to see. She had a strict schedule, and her only real companion was her mother. This made the encounters with her father even more frightening. He was big and loud and didn’t seem to care much about anything other than yelling and drinking.

  As Isabella became a young woman, she began taking on more responsibilities around the compound. Her parents were aging quickly. Her father had suffered a series of small strokes and had become withdrawn, mostly staying away from her and her mother. When Isabella did see him, he seemed to be a different man—her hatred of him didn’t diminish, though, because of his waning strength.

  “It is time that you go to university and get an education and find a husband. I have arranged for you to enter the University of New Mexico in Albuquerque. I know it is going to be difficult for you to leave, but it is vital that you establish your own life—while I am still alive.”

  “I will do as you say mother.” Isabella was ecstatic. She wanted to jump up and down and scream for joy. On her own in Albuquerque. She was not worried or afraid, she was thrilled. She had no idea what to think about finding a husband, but she was ready to have some freedom. She worried about leaving her mother, but she’d be close at hand in case she was needed.

  Isabella enrolled in the university and would stay in the freshman dorms for women. She was driven to Albuquerque by servants, who unloaded her belongings and then departed. Everyone stared at her as she entered the dorm. She decided that she liked the attention, and walked with a practiced elegance. She didn’t have a roommate, even though it appeared everyone else did—something she suspected her mother had arranged. It didn’t bother Isabella to be something special—it’s what she’d been, and been trained for—her entire life.

  School wasn’t much of a challenge. While she lacked certain social skills, she’d been given an amazing education by her mother and a team of tutors. Every class was easy and Isabella excelled. During her first semester, she became aware of attention coming from one of her professors. He was a middle-aged, handsome man named Tim Baxter. Professor Baxter was very attentive towards Isabella, and had on several occasions asked her to coffee or for a beer—though she’d always declined. After some weeks she decided to accept and agreed to join him at a local bar for a drink. The evening ended with them at the professor’s apartment and Isabella had her first sexual experience.

  She enjoyed sex and wanted to learn more about love making. She moved in with the professor and had an intensive, two-week education. Isabella was intrigued. The poor professor was exhausted and madly in love. After two weeks, she told the professor she was moving back to the dorm and that he shouldn’t bother her anymore. The professor went ballistic. He pleaded with her, he threatened her—she ignored him and moved out. The next night the professor made such a scene outside her dorm that he was arrested. He was fired the next day. Isabella went to class.

  She was soon enjoying an active sex life with a different professor who was much younger than Professor Baxter, and in Isabella’s opinion more stable. She spent the next two years enjoying sex while still landing on the dean’s honor roll for her academic achievements. But she knew it was time to find a husband—her mother’s health was deteriorating.

  Isabella married Dick Franklin, a nice man, though weak, because her mother insisted. She knew her mother wanted her out of the house and away from what was happening between her parents, and Clara worried that Isabella’s father would hit her one day as well—she’d said as much to Isabella.

  Isabella tried to do what her mother wanted. She found Dick and decided he was controllable and would give her protection from her father, mostly by taking her away. She endured Dick, even called him Richard—her personal joke—but she had no respect for him. He was the opposite of her father, kind and thoughtful, but also weak. She knew he’d do whatever she asked—she was the strong one. And then he began to challenge her. He shouldn’t have done that, not ever.

  After her mother died, Isabella knew she had to do something if she was going to be able to have her own life. She felt that her father was a constant threat and his behavior had become increasingly erratic. While her mother was alive there was at least some restraint on her father—her mother was someone he seemed almost to fear.

  Isabella had observed much about her father’s business over the years and had become acquainted with some of the leaders in Mexico. She decided that the path to her ultimate independence was money. Without her father’s knowledge, she’d implemented a plan to bring drugs in from Mexico. She loved the irony of carrying out this illegal activity right under her husband’s nose.

  But now it was all coming to an end. It was time to start cleaning up the mess and to find a new life.

  Isabella was going to be free. Her whole life had been controlled by people who had treated her like some kind of doll, a plaything, something attractive to own and put on display. Now she was her own person for the first time in her entire life. The only person she’d ever really cared about was her mother, Clara. She shared her mother’s secrets regarding her father and what their life was really like.

  She had planned for years how the end would come for her father, and she’d begun to implement the plan over the last few years. She’d used the drug money to make a variety of necessary arrangements, and now she was in the final stages.

  The first matter to deal with was the suddenly righteous Dick Franklin. That moron Marino had told Dick that he should just keep his mouth shut about everything because the person responsible for all the drugs being run through the racetrack was his wife. Dick had returned home after his fight with Marino and accused his wife of being evil—he said he was going to turn her in to the sheriff or the police. She told Dick exactly what she thought of his threats, told him he was weak and not much of a man, and then left for Tularosa. And now she was returning to Ruidoso to confront him. She entered the house and found Dick at home. He began yelling at her almost immediately.

  “Are you crazy? How could you get involved in drugs? Your whole damn family has always been crazy. I am leaving you, Isabella. You have almost ruined me as a person because of your strange, wicked ways. You’re some kind of evil witch or something, I swear. I can’t believe I loved you—I loved you so much—but now I see you for what you really are. You’re disgusting. I never want to see you again.”

  She walked up to Dick and spat in his face, standing there with hatred in her eyes. Dick was stunned. Something seemed to snap and he hit her as hard as he could, screaming that she was evil and she’d have to die. He hit her again.

  Isabella stumbled backwards, but never fell. She had several deep cuts and was bleeding freely, but there was a strange smile on her face. Dick s
eemed suddenly frozen in a confused daze, just staring at her.

  Isabella calmly walked to Dick, pulled out the .38 special handgun from her jacket, and shot him in the head. He was dead before he hit the floor.

  She arranged his body as best she could in order to make it look like suicide. She typed the suicide note and then left. She was free. Free of all of the men who wanted her as some kind of prize. She was released from all of them—their groping and vile man-handling. She was sick of being an object.

  She returned to Tularosa, went immediately to her room, and tended to her cuts. She hadn’t seen her father or anyone else on her way in. It was late, so she just went to bed.

  The next day Isabella woke late in the morning and applied some makeup to hide her cuts and bruises. As she entered the main area of the house, she heard her father talking outside. She glanced out the side window and saw him speaking, in his usual hateful tone, to two men in a car who were surrounded by the guards. She couldn’t make out what her father was saying.

  He came back into the house.

  “Who were those men father?”

  “Goddamned cops or something. Said they worked for the fuckhead Governor. They were looking for you and your idiot husband. I told them to leave or I’d have them killed. They chose to leave.” He spoke without any emotion, as if threating to kill people was an everyday occurrence.

  “Where in the hell were you last night?”

  “I went to Ruidoso and got home late and went straight to bed. Can I get you some tea?” Her father had become enamored of herbal tea and had a cup at hand most of the day.

  “Yeah, do something useful for a change.”

  Isabella ignored the snide remark. With the governor’s investigators coming around she had to implement her plan immediately. For that, she needed her father out of the way for a few hours. She fixed his tea and added a substantial amount of drugs—enough to put him out for some time. She brought him the tea and sat with him as he sipped. The drugs began acting quickly.