Washed Up (A Gracie Andersen Mystery Book 4)

by Laurinda Wallace

  “He needs to be found, Marc. The kid isn’t going to slip away from the cartel.” Amanda bit her lip. “He’s got a big bull’s-eye on his back.”

  “Everybody’s doing their best,” he responded, reading another message on his phone.

  “And you need to go back to work,” Gracie guessed.

  Marc shrugged his shoulders, looking uncomfortable. “Honestly, yes. But with Max and …”

  “I’ll take Max to the casita so Amanda can get some work done. Don’t worry about me … for the moment,” she added, her eyes twinkling.

  “If you’re sure …” Marc hesitated. “I’ll be back before—”

  “Go. We’ll be waiting for you.”

  The look of relief on Marc’s face was worth the sacrifice of the remainder of the afternoon. Besides, his mind wasn’t on anything other than finding a murder suspect at the moment. That didn’t bode well for any conversations about their personal situations. Why couldn’t life be simple? Why couldn’t her vacation be a vacation instead of a police investigation? Food for thought as she meandered down the pathway to the casita with Max.

  CHAPTER 10

  A plethora of law enforcement vehicles filled Dominguez Street in the small town of Naco. Border Patrol trucks were the most prominent. A group of agents were crowded around two women inside a wire-fenced yard. A brown pit bull snarled and barked, straining at the heavy chain that kept him from rushing the perceived intruders.

  Marc kept an eye on the dog, positioned near the rear entrance of the rundown concrete block home.

  A Cochise County deputy spoke rapidly in Spanish to the older Hispanic woman, who kept shaking her head. Marc wished his Spanish was better, but language had never been his forte. Most of the conversation was lost on him. The younger woman twirled a piece of dark hair between her fingers, trying to look unconcerned. Her tapping foot betrayed her nervousness.

  The deputy’s stern face turned to the younger woman, and he reverted to English. “And what about you, Chaz, did you see Ricky today?”

  “No. Of course not. He’s missing. That’s what we heard. Why would he be here?”

  “You know we had a call about him being at your house today. He was seen on the street too. If he’s smart, he’ll let us help him.”

  She threw her head back and laughed.

  “I’m not stupid, and neither is Ricky. He’s not here. Hasn’t been.” She turned and yelled at the dog, “Shut up, you crazy animal!”

  Marc stepped forward. “That’s a good-looking dog. Where’d you get him?

  The young woman hesitated, eyeing him suspiciously. “I don’t know. He’ll take you down, so don’t mess with him.”

  “Wouldn’t think of it. I’m looking for a guard dog. He looks like just the kind I need.”

  The deputy scowled. “I have a couple of questions,” he interrupted.

  “I’m done talking to you,” the woman snapped. She turned to Marc. “The dog belongs to my brother. He bought him from some guy around town.”

  “Does he have any to sell now?”

  “How should I know?”

  “If you could help me, I’d really like to see if I could buy one. Maybe your brother could call him, or I could see him.” Marc looked appreciatively at the dog and back to the attractive young woman, mustering his friendliest expression.

  “He’s working on a car for a friend. He won’t be back until late.” She began twirling her hair again, looking down the street.

  “Thanks. Maybe I can catch up with him sometime.” Marc stepped away, still smiling. He gave the deputy a discreet nudge.

  The deputy took the hint, following Marc to the street. The Border Patrol agents straggled back to their vehicles.

  “Whaddaya think you’re doing, Stevens?” the deputy growled.

  “Sorry, Travis, but I’m playing a hunch. Let’s take a walk down this way and see if we can find her brother.”

  “Ah … he’s trouble. Probably in Mexico, if I know Ernie Sanchez.”

  “Humor me. Maybe Ernie’s working on a car for Ricky, or maybe Ricky’s with him.”

  “All right. I’ll go along for a couple of minutes. Can’t hurt, I guess.”

  They strode past three more dilapidated houses. The sound of a revving engine to the north caught their attention.

  “Back here,” Marc said, jogging ahead of the deputy.

  Turning left down an alley, a mobile home came into view, with a dirt yard adorned with scraggly cactus and vehicles in various stages of dismemberment. A beat-up brown sedan with the hood up was parked in the driveway. A man bent over the engine, while another sat in the car.

  Deputy Travis Gunderson, a strapping 6’3” of coiled muscle, strode over to the car and pinned the mechanic against the grill when he tried to run. The driver scrambled to exit the passenger side. Marc met him as the door opened, his sidearm drawn on a frightened Hank Ramage.

  CHAPTER 11

  “What’s the problem, deputy?” Ernie Sanchez seemed unperturbed, as he was patted down. “What about my rights? I wasn’t doing nothin’.”

  “Ernie, the list of problems I have with you would fill a few pages. Whose car is this?”

  “A friend’s. Hank and I are workin’ on it for him.”

  “Is this true?” Marc asked Hank, whose Adam’s apple bobbed wildly.

  “Uh … yeah. Why are you hassling us? We’re trying to fix a friend’s car.”

  “Let’s see the registration and insurance on this little number,” Travis ordered.

  “I ain’t got it. We gotta get it running before he can put it on the road.”

  “Have you seen Ricky Fuentes today?”

  “No, sir, señor deputy. Mi amigo pobre is lost in the mountains somewhere. I thought you were supposed to find him. He’s probably hurt. And here you are wasting time talking to me.”

  “Ricky was seen in Naco today. I think you know where he is. Help him out by telling us. He’s in bad trouble otherwise.”

  “Like I told you, he’s not around.”

  Ernie was expressionless until he looked at Hank. The change wasn’t lost on Marc, who motioned Hank away from the car.

  “What gives, Hank? What are you doing with Ernie?” Marc asked.

  Hank turned his back to Ernie and looked at Marc with pleading eyes.

  “We’re fixing the car for a friend. I haven’t seen Ricky. I don’t need any trouble, so I’d like to get back to work.”

  Something was going on, but Marc knew Hank was not about to tell him the truth. At least, not in front of Ernie.

  Giving the messy yard a cursory look, Marc and Travis tacitly agreed the cause was lost for the moment and left after telling the men to call them if Ricky showed.

  “I know he’s around here somewhere,” Travis muttered. “But it’s too hot to go looking right now.” He wiped his forehead with a white handkerchief. “I gotta get some water.”

  Marc agreed. The afternoon sun was blazing, but promising rain clouds were building over the Mule Mountains and Bisbee.

  The Border Patrol agents were sitting in their vehicles when Marc and Travis returned. One rolled down a window.

  “Are we done?”

  “Yeah. Thanks for the assist. Keep an eye peeled for Ricky though.”

  The agent waved and pulled out, the others in tow.

  “Now what?” Marc asked.

  “Beats me. At least we talked to Ernie. My big question is what’s this Ramage doing with him? Isn’t he a landscaper?”

  “He is. And he was on the scene when Enriquez’s body was found.”

  “That’s what I thought.” The deputy reached into his SUV and grabbed a lukewarm bottle of water. “Want one?”

  “No thanks. Has anybody run a background check on Ramage?”

  “Probably, but I haven’t seen it.”

  “Can you send it to me if you’ve got it?”

  “Sure.” Deputy Gunderson finished the water and tossed the bottle onto the driver’s seat. “Well, unless you have an
y other bright ideas, it’s back to the drawing board.”

  Marc had a pretty good idea that if he kept an eye on Ernie and Hank, the missing teen might appear sooner or later. He drove past the trailer before leaving town. The car still had the hood up, but the two men were nowhere in the yard. Calling it a day, he turned off Willson Road onto Highway 92 to pick up Max.

  ***

  Gracie had finished walking the property’s perimeter, debating whether to call Kelly, her best friend, her soon-to-be sister-in-law, and the kennel’s vet in Deer Creek. Another point of view might clarify the chaos in her head over Marc’s insistence on getting a job before he proposed. Was he stalling? Maybe she was expecting too much. He was having a personal crisis. Then the time difference came to mind. It was too late to call, which was probably just as well. Gracie took a deep breath, willing her anxiety to subside. Approaching her casita, she glimpsed Amanda headed her way.

  “What’s the hurry?”

  “I was coming to ask if you’d be interested in helping Gary and me get the equipment off the trail in the morning. It was left up there yesterday in all of the excitement.”

  “Sure. Marc’s working tomorrow—big surprise. So I’m free.”

  CHAPTER 12

  The ride to the trailhead wasn’t more than 10 minutes from the ranch. The parking lot was empty.

  “Gary must have been held up,” Amanda bent to double tie her hiking boots.

  “Should we wait for him?”

  “No. He’ll catch up. I hope the cops didn’t confiscate the shovels and other stuff. That wouldn’t make me very happy.”

  Gracie agreed. The climb back up the challenging trail would at least work off Lupita’s generous breakfast, a chorizo and green chile omelet with warm homemade tortillas. It was right up there with breakfast back home at Midge’s any day. The morning air was comfortable, and the pair wasted no time reaching the waterfalls area. Amanda stopped at the pool, waiting for Gracie to catch up. Gracie was glad for the break. Her lungs were burning, and she needed to rehydrate.

  “Hard to believe anything bad happened here.”

  Gracie nodded and drank deeply from her water bottle. Amanda’s cell phone rang, interrupting the ugly memory of their previous visit.

  “Are you coming? … Oh. Well, we’re already at the pool … All right. We’ll bring back what we can.” Amanda hung up.

  “So, we’re on our own?” Gracie guessed.

  “Yup. He’s tied up helping Stephanie. Both of her sons will be here sometime today, but he doesn’t want to leave her alone in case Ricky shows up for some reason.”

  “I’m sure that makes Stephanie feel better.”

  “I’m sure. But, between you and me, I’m wondering about Gary right now.”

  “Why?”

  “Gary got divorced a year or so ago. He’s been very friendly with Manny and Stephanie, especially Stephanie since that became final.”

  “You think he’s interested in her?”

  “It appears that way. Manny made a couple of comments the last time we were out working on another section of the trail. Stephanie was with us that day, and she spent most of the time working with Gary rather than her husband. Manny didn’t like it. At one point, he asked if she was going to help him or be Gary’s personal assistant.”

  “Ouch!”

  “You’ve got that right. It was pretty uncomfortable for a minute or two. After that, she worked next to Manny the rest of the morning.” Amanda squatted, stood, and twisted her torso, groaning as she stretched. “I hate old age. All right, let’s shake a leg. It’s not that far now.”

  They trekked the last portion of the switchback above the waterfalls and easily reached the washed-out section of trail.

  “Gary said there were shovels, a pickax, and a masonry hammer in this area.”

  Gracie scanned the damaged track. “I don’t see anything.”

  “Me neither.” Amanda rubbed her lower back. “I’ll bet the cops picked all of it up. Now we’ll have to find out which agency took it and try to—”

  The snap of a twig cut her off. The women swung their gaze to the thick undergrowth.

  “It’s probably deer,” Amanda assured her.

  “There are mountain lions up here, right?” Gracie had a feeling that someone or something was watching them.

  Amanda shrugged. “There are, but I wouldn’t worry about that.” She pointed to the west. “Let’s take a look above the falls. That would have to be the area where Manny was killed and then tossed. I want to see how it could have happened.”

  “All right,” Gracie agreed, against her better judgment.

  There was no way she wanted to linger on a remote mountain looking for a murder scene. Experience had taught her that two-footed creatures were far more dangerous than four-footed ones, and she wasn’t truly convinced deer were the only things lurking in the woods.

  “We’re not staying long, right?”

  “I want a quick look around,” Amanda said tersely.

  A rock formation towered over the waterfalls and stream below. A large flat stone went to the edge of the gorge.

  “I think the fight could’ve been right here, and then whoever it was pushed poor Manny over the edge.”

  “But why didn’t Gary and Hank see him on the way up? He would’ve been in the water.”

  “Good point,” Amanda conceded, walking further back into the woods, away from the precipice.

  Gracie decided not to follow Amanda. She again peered down at the water. It splashed merrily, a peaceful and reassuring sound. Branches parted on the far side of the pool, and two fawns daintily stepped into view. A small doe wasn’t far behind, watchful of the perimeter, while her spotted progeny drank. Amanda had been right after all. The deer family disappeared into the foliage after their stop at the water hole. Amanda reappeared, looking aggravated.

  “Find anything?” Gracie asked.

  “Nothing.”

  “What exactly are you looking for?”

  “I don’t know. Something that places Manny here, I guess. I was looking for footprints or maybe a piece of torn clothing. Just something.”

  “I’m sure whoever is investigating has been over this area with a fine-tooth comb.”

  “You’re right. I’d like to help get some justice for Manny, somehow.”

  “I’ve been warned early and often about staying out of law enforcement’s way. You can only do so much.”

  Amanda exhaled. “I’m not trying to horn in on our boys in blue. But it’s personal, you know?”

  “I understand that. We’re a bit over our heads with this case though. Marc says it’s a dangerous one and to keep a healthy distance. And I’m good with that.”

  Amanda seemed to acquiesce with the nod of her head, although the look in her eyes told a different story.

  Gracie crouched and directed her gaze below. “Did you notice the trail that’s on the other side of the pool area? I think it might be a game trail. I saw some of those deer you were telling me about.”

  “Where?” Amanda craned her neck to see where Gracie was pointing. “Oh, right. I wonder where it starts. Come on, let’s find out.”

  She was already scrambling down the rocks. Gracie had no choice but to follow. It took a bit of bushwhacking to find the trail, but after a few minutes, they located the narrow path.

  “I’ve been hiking up here regularly for a couple of years and never knew about this.” Amanda pointed at the track. “Look at the prints. It’s a regular highway to the water.”

  Hoof prints were abundant in the muddy trail. There were also some rather large paw prints, which instantly gave Gracie the whim-whams. A good-sized bear had visited the pool recently.

  Amanda dug around in her backpack, finally pulling out a trail map. Unfolding the worn paper, she studied it, tracing a line with her finger. “Well, I’ll be.”

  “What?”

  “We’re pretty close to the Outlaws’ Cave. I’ve always used the Allen Trail, which splits off
the one we were hiking, to get there. From here though, it looks like a quick hike. There are a couple of sketchy stories that Johnny Ringo of Tombstone fame hid up in the cave, with some other ne’er-do-wells, after robbing a stagecoach. Some say they left the loot hidden in the cave, planning to pick it up when things cooled down, but never did. Since we don’t have to haul any tools back, are you interested in giving it a look?”

  “Sounds intriguing. I’m in.”

  The path dissolved after about 10 minutes of hiking, leaving them in a small clearing.

  “Now what?” Gracie asked.

  “Uh … we keep going west, and then we should run into the Allen Trail a little ways over that ridge.”

  Gracie nodded, grateful that the ridge didn’t seem all that steep. Pictures of a real outlaw hideout would most certainly be a hot topic of conversation with folks back in Deer Creek. Maybe they’d stumble upon a gold coin or some other unique relic. Howie, her insurance agent, would go crazy. He was an Old West aficionado of gigantic proportions.

  Amanda’s pace slowed once they pushed through a grove of spicy-smelling junipers. A pair of scrub jays, in their bright blue plumage, settled in one, voicing objections at a human presence.

  “The trail is up this slope. There’s a small box canyon. You’ll see the entrance.”

  “Good. I was beginning to wonder about your ‘short hike,’” Gracie commented wryly.

  “Don’t worry. It’s worth it.”

  The trail wound down into a small canyon, lush with wildflowers, tall grasses, and oaks. The sound of running water greeted them. Gracie studied the area for the source. A rocky wash appeared with plenty of water, gurgling its way to the bottom of the mountain.

  “Here we are,” announced Amanda, stopping in front of a pile of massive boulders.

  “And where’s this cave entrance?” Gracie shielded her eyes from the sun’s glare.

  “Right through here.”

  Gracie followed as Amanda clambered through a natural Stonehenge.

  Several precariously stacked boulders effectively hid the arrowhead-shaped cave entrance.