“That’s true, sir,” Jackie said, and a smile ghosted across her round face. “When we talked, she didn’t want to open the front door far enough for me to step inside, either. She said that the young couple inquired about a room and told her right up front that they were short of money. She said that they both came to the door, and that surprised her, since the girl was obviously pregnant and quite a ways along.”
“And that’s it?” Estelle asked.
“Mrs. Melvin said that she told them they should check in Lordsburg. That she didn’t have a room available.”
Gastner chuckled. “Lordsburg? She didn’t recommend that they come down here to the motel?”
“She didn’t say, sir. But it doesn’t sound like it.”
“No room at the inn,” he said. “How goddamn biblical.”
Estelle looked at the former sheriff with amusement, then at the deputy. “You talked with them?” she asked the deputy.
“I talked with Mrs. Melvin first, and established that nothing had happened that would constitute probable cause for a stop. They asked for a room, told her they didn’t have any money, and went on their way when she refused. Mrs. Melvin admitted that they were perfectly polite and not the least bit pushy. She only grudgingly admitted that, by the way.”
“Why bother calling the SO, then?” Estelle asked, knowing the answer even before Bill Gastner voiced it.
“Because she’s an old biddy,” he said. “And she wouldn’t recommend this motel because Adrian owns it. Part that and part that her sister owns the one she’s talking about in Lordsburg.”
“Maybe so,” Jackie said. “But I saw the van a few minutes later, parked on Pershing, over behind the park. I’m sure that they saw me approach.” Jackie pushed her Stetson back a bit. “Since Mrs. Melvin had told me that the woman was pregnant, it seemed prudent to make sure that they weren’t in need of medical attention, so I stopped to talk with them. They’re a young couple from Las Cruces.”
She slipped a small notebook from her blouse pocket and thumbed pages. “Todd Willis and Stacie Hart.” She closed the notebook. “And she’s eight months pregnant. Or nine.”
“They’re married?” Gastner asked.
“No, sir. They said not. Maybe living together.”
“Bound for?”
“Apparently headed for Tucson to visit Miss Hart’s relatives. The van belongs to her sister, who’s letting them use it for a while. Their own vehicle broke down. License and registration bears that out.”
“Huh,” Gastner said. “So we’re only two hours from Las Cruces, even driving in that old heap. And Tucson is just four hours farther down the pike. Why did they leave Cruces so late in the day that they’d need a motel in the first place? Especially if they were short in the funds department?”
“I didn’t ask them that, sir.”
“Maybe the girl just became uncomfortable,” Estelle said.
“Maybe so. Who knows why people do the damn things that they do.”
“When you talked to them, Jackie, did either of them get out of the van?”
“No, ma’am. I approached them and we spoke through the driver’s side window.”
“Did Miss Hart appear in distress of any kind?”
“She looked bedraggled,” Jackie said. “They both did. She’s huge, though, and she kept shifting on the seat as if she couldn’t find a comfortable position.”
“Ay,” Estelle said. They heard the scuffing of a door opening and Estelle stepped away from the side of the building and looked down the sidewalk toward Room 110. A young man in jeans and sweatshirt stood framed in the doorway, one hand on the jamb, one on the knob. He saw Estelle and gave her a questioning look. “Let’s find out,” she said.
“Hello,” the young man said as the three approached. He held the door open further. “Come on in out of the rain.”
“Thank you,” Estelle said. “I’m Posadas County Undersheriff Estelle Guzman, sir. This is Deputy Jackie Taber and Bill Gastner.”
“Todd Willis.” He turned and nodded toward the bathroom. “My fiancée is in the bathroom.”
“Is Ms. Hart all right?”
“She’s fine. We’re tired, is all. She’ll be out in a minute.”
“Mr. Willis, I’m interested in two things. First, did you call 911 this evening?”
A flush crept up his pale cheeks. Estelle watched as he appeared to debate with himself about what to say. He was a good-looking kid, despite the stringy, long hair and Ohio Wesleyan sweatshirt that had needed laundering a week before.
“Yes,” he said quickly, as if he had realized that he’d waited too long to reply.
“What did you see, Mr. Willis? Why the 911 call?” Estelle glanced around the generic room. A large nylon overnight bag rested on the dresser, beside what appeared to be a bulky camera case.
“We were just starting to unload from the van, outside there where we’re parked? I was at the back door, and happened to glance back that way”—he waved in the direction of the motel office—“and saw three men talking. At least that’s what it looked like. One of them appeared to collapse against the wall of the motel and then fell. The other two men drove away and left him there.”
“Drove away in what?”
“A late-model car of some kind. I’m not sure what model. Maybe an Olds or a Buick. Something like that. Full-sized.”
“Did you go over to check on the stricken man?”
Willis hesitated again. “No. I thought that the best thing I could do was call 911 and let the professionals do it.”
The bathroom door opened and an enormously pregnant young woman emerged wearing a thick plaid bathrobe and fluffy slippers. Her thin, swarthy face accentuated the dark hollows under her eyes.
“Hi,” she said, and moved to the bed, sitting down gently on the corner with one hand under her belly.
“Ms. Hart?” Estelle said, and introduced herself again. “Are you all right?”
“Yes. I’m just tired.” Stacie Hart smiled wanly. “And we’re kind of upset about what happened down the way. Is the man going to be all right?”
“We don’t know,” Estelle said. “But we’re interested in what you saw.”
“I was inside already. I didn’t see what happened.”
“Did both of you go into the motel office when you checked in?”
Stacie nodded. “Would you close the door, please?” she said to her fiancé, and Willis did so. “Yes...I went in with Todd.”
“When was the first time that you became aware of any of the three men on down the way?”
“As we were turning around. I mean after we checked in,” Willis said. “We went back out to the van, and we were turning around to drive down here. One of the three men was just walking down the parking lot toward the lobby as we did that. A great big guy with a ponytail. I had parked kinda close to the doors, and when I was pulling out, he took a step back and turned sideways, I guess thinking that maybe I needed the room to maneuver.” Willis paused and looked at his fiancée. “He was a big guy, like I said. And he looked fit. Not fat or anything.”
“He never said anything? Any gestures?”
“No. He just waited a second or two for me to move the van out of the way.”
“And then what?”
“Then we drove down to our parking spot, outside here. I glanced back toward the office when we were getting out of the van to come inside our room, and another of the men was walking toward the motel entrance. He was reaching out with one hand, kind of like he was running the flat of his hand along the wall, like maybe for balance. I didn’t know if he was drunk, or what.”
“Where were the other two men at that time?”
“I didn’t see them. I mean, I didn’t look. We were busy getting our stuff from the van into the room.”
“But you saw the man collapse?”
“That was a minute or so later. I went back out to get some stuff and close the van’s back door, and the three of them were down by the two cars.”
“Talking, arguing?”
“I couldn’t tell. If I had to guess, I’d say just talking. I locked up the van, and when I turned around again, I saw the one older man sag against the wall, then fall to his hands and knees.”
“What did the other two men do?” Estelle asked.
“Nothing, I guess.”
“Did you see them touch the man at any time?”
Willis shook his head. “It just looked like they were talking, and like maybe the man who collapsed was walking away, around the front of the car.”
“What prompted your call, then?”
“Well, I saw the old guy collapse, but then the other two just drove away and left him there. That’s when I called 911.”
“How long after the man collapsed was it before the other two drove away?” Estelle asked.
“Right away. I mean, right then. They didn’t go over to him, or anything. They just got in the car and left. Just like that.”
“And you didn’t walk down to see if you could help?”
Willis took a deep breath and glanced at Stacie. “No.”
Bill Gastner grunted something to himself and thrust his hands deeper in his pockets. He glowered at the young man over the top of his glasses. Estelle didn’t interrupt as the old man’s unblinking gaze dissected Todd Willis for a long, uncomfortable moment. “Why not?” Gastner finally asked. “Wouldn’t that be the logical thing to do?”
“I thought...I thought the best thing was to call emergency,” Willis said lamely. “I don’t know CPR or anything like that.”
“Shit,” Gastner said with disgust and turned half away, his interest apparently attracted to the print of a Dutch windmill that hung over the blond oak desk.
“This is just your second stop this evening here in town?” Estelle asked gently. Willis nodded quickly as if relieved to be talking to her, rather than her elderly companion. He glanced at Deputy Taber for confirmation.
“We talked to Deputy Taber earlier,” he said. “Over at the park.”
“Were you thinking of staying there for the night? In the park, I mean?”
“No,” he said quickly. “We just stopped there to look at the map.”
“Ah. You’re lost?”
He smiled and ducked his head. “No. We’re not lost. Not the map, actually. We were looking through our notes and stuff. Looking through the Posadas directory.”
“For?”
“Well,” and he hesitated. “To see where else we might be able to stay.”
“I’m surprised that the B-and-B didn’t have a vacancy this time of year,” Estelle said. “Where else have you tried?”
“We stopped at the B and B,” Willis said, “but the owner...well, she...” He finished with a vague waffle of his hand.
“No, I meant stopped at places other than in Posadas,” Estelle said. She had been watching Stacie Hart as they talked. The girl had remained silent, all her energy consumed by the effort to keep her spine vertical. “Did you stop in Deming on your way over from Cruces?”
“Actually, what difference does it make where we stopped?” Todd said, a little petulance creeping into his voice. “We haven’t done anything wrong.”
“I don’t suppose it makes any difference at all,” Estelle said. “I’m just trying to form an accurate picture in my mind of what happened here tonight.”
Willis sat down on the bed beside Stacie, and her hand slipped over to intertwine with his.
“Deming has a good many motels and such,” Estelle said. “I was wondering if you had tried any of them.”
“We stopped at three places,” Willis said. “Two motels and one B and B sort of place.”
“Deming’s only an hour or so out of Cruces,” Gastner said.
“Well, yes, it is,” Willis agreed.
“And these places that you tried...they all refused you?” Estelle asked.
Willis didn’t answer, but shrugged evasively.
“That’s interesting,” Estelle said. She looked around the room again at the couple’s possessions. “You’re headed for Tucson?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You have enough money for gas?”
“I think so.”
Estelle regarded Willis for a long moment, and he blushed as if correctly reading the skepticism in her gaze.
“I mean, we were planning on just driving to Tucson, right? It’s not that far. We weren’t planning to stop. But then Stacie got to feeling...well, uncomfortable, and we thought we’d try to find a place to stop, and continue on tomorrow.” He tried an engaging grin. “Got money for gas, or motel. Not both.”
“I see,” Estelle said. “Well, Mr. Patel is a most gracious person.” Her eyes roamed the room, taking in the neat travel bag, the leather camera case, and the cell phone that rested on top of Stacie Hart’s beaded handbag. Through the open bathroom door, she could see a spread of bath accoutrements, including a curling iron that was plugged in beside the mirror.
“Are you planning to pay your bill here when you check out? Is that the deal?”
The room fell silent, and Estelle let the silence hang.
Chapter Four
“Look,” Willis said. He glanced nervously at his girlfriend. “We haven’t done anything wrong. We didn’t use a fake credit card, or skip out without paying. The manager offered this room, and we accepted. That’s all there is to it. I’m sorry about the old guy down the way, but there wasn’t anything I could do about that. I called 911, like we’re supposed to. And I’ve answered all your questions.”
“Mr. Willis,” Estelle said, “I’ll be happy to put you in touch with Traveler’s Aid if you’re having trouble.” She had a momentary thought about how nice it would be to put Todd Willis under bright lights for a half-hour or so, but other matters weighed more heavily.
“That’s not necessary,” Willis replied.
“I didn’t think it was, sir. And to tell the truth, at the moment I don’t really care about your room scam.” She saw his eyes narrow a little at her choice of words. “I assume that you at least implied that you couldn’t pay when you inquired about a room?”
“Has someone complained?”
“Your evasion makes me curious.”
“I’m not evading anything. I just don’t have to explain...” Willis’s protest faded.
“Mr. Patel just offered you a room at no charge? You didn’t have to ask?”
“Well, no. Look, we haven’t done anything wrong.”
“I suppose that out of the charity of his heart, he saw your fiancée’s condition and offered lodging. Is that it?”
Willis grimaced and fixed his attention on the bedspread.
“There would be no reason for anyone to offer a complimentary lodging otherwise...although it is the Christmas season. And you made certain that Miss Hart’s condition was noticed, since in both occasions, she accompanied you to the check-in desk. That certainly wasn’t necessary, was it...with it being so unpleasant out and her condition being so uncomfortable.” Estelle paused, watching the flush play up Todd Willis’s cheeks.
“So there appears to be some misrepresentation there,” Estelle continued. “But more important, you saw a man collapse, obviously hurt or ill. You never approached to check on the condition of the victim?”
“No...I already told you that I didn’t.”
“Yet you called 911 to report an unattended death. That’s what the dispatcher reported.”
“I...”
“And you said the victim was an old man.”
“Well, obviously he was. Anyon
e could see that.”
“Really. I wonder about that when you say you observed the incident from nearly the length of the motel, in poor light.”
“In the rain,” Gastner added.
Stacie Hart groaned and pushed herself up straighter on the bed. “Just tell them, Todd,” she said.
The young man weighed that suggestion for a moment and then shrugged. “Okay, okay,” he said. “I did go up there. I saw that the guy was lying all scrunched up, half on and half off the curb. When I got to him, I could see that his eyes were glassy, and he was unreactive when I spoke to him. It looked like maybe he had some froth on his lips, and I couldn’t find any pulse at his neck. I could see then that he was an older guy.”
“And the other two men were gone by this time?”
“Yes. They drove away before I actually started walking over that way. I couldn’t tell if they’d assaulted the older guy or not. I didn’t see any blood, but that doesn’t mean anything. They drove away in a hurry, though, after he collapsed. So I ran up there, saw that there was a problem, and called 911 on my cell.”
“And then you just left him there?”
“I didn’t want to move him. I mean, we’re not supposed to do that, right? I thought that I’d get a blanket from the room, but by the time I even thought to do that, I could hear a siren coming.” Willis took a step back and settled on the corner of the bed. “I just stayed out of the way.”
“Goddamn commendable,” Gastner said.
“Well...” Willis said, and gave up with a shrug.
“Why not just duck into the office and ask for a blanket? Or tell them to call the cops?” Gastner asked.
Willis looked skeptical. “Did you talk to the desk girl?”
“Yes.”
“Well, then you know why I didn’t try and explain to her. Miss Like Vague. Besides, I thought about doing that, but when I went by, her back was turned to the door and I could see that she was on the telephone.”
“At any time, did you see either of the two men strike the victim before they left?”
“No.”
Statute of Limitations Page 4