by Frank Hayes
“Boy, why can’t I find a woman like you?” They all looked to the door again. Simon was standing there
“Maybe you ain’t looking hard enough or in the right places,” Jimmy piped up.
“Out of the mouth of babes,” Dif added. “Now, about that coffee.”
“Okay . . . okay.” Rosie walked over to the coffeemaker. “By the way, who is the interior decorator?” She looked at the rearrangement of the table and desks.
“Dif and I didn’t feel comfortable sitting behind your desks, so we made a little change,” Simon offered.
“Virgil, I think maybe we ought to get a third desk in here. Doesn’t look too professional using that old table with all the coffee stains and dings in it for such a top-notch staff.”
“I agree. We’ll get a brand-new desk pronto. Meantime, let’s sit down and get up to speed on a couple of things.”
For the next forty-five minutes they worked on scheduling. Simon was going down to Redbud four days a week, Jimmy two, and one day Alex would be by himself. Then Simon would be one day in Hayward, Jimmy three days, while Virgil would pick up the slack. Rosie and Dif said they would work out their hours.
“By the way, Dif, if Edna thinks she is getting off the hook by sending you down here full-time, tell her I appreciate the offer but I couldn’t possibly deprive her of so much quality time with you.”
“That’s always been my problem,” Dif said. “Spreading myself so thin that people, especially women, can never get enough of me.”
They all smiled at Dif’s comeback. For just an instant, an observer passing by would never have known that they were struggling to escape the cold clutch of death, which had unexpectedly reached out to each of them.
Before he left, Virgil brought them up to speed about Mr. Jessup, along with his suspicions about the fire.
“So you don’t think the trailer was a meth lab?” Jimmy asked.
“I was doubtful from the moment I met Mr. Jessup. The way he talked about his son. The way his son every year went over the top decorating for Christmas then inviting everyone to a big party. If you’re cooking meth in your trailer, you keep a low profile. You’re not outlining the trailer in Christmas lights. Besides, Mr. Jessup has a real close relationship with his son. He would have known about that. No. Somebody wanted it to seem like his son died accidentally in a meth fire. The problem was I think they were hired to do the job. Had the address but had never seen his son, so they killed the wrong person. I don’t know why the young man was there but I think he was just an unfortunate victim.”
“Is that why you asked the ME to hold the body as long as he could?” Dif asked.
“I figured I had to because once they realized they made a mistake, they would try to correct it. After seeing what they did to Mr. Jessup, I’m sure that’s the case.”
“So where are you going from here, Virgil?” Rosie asked.
“The only place I can. I’ve got to find Everett Junior before they do and keep Everett Senior safe.”
Chapter 34
It was late afternoon by the time Virgil got back home. He was surprised to see Clara outside in the cold brushing the snow off her car. He knew she had taken the pickup when she drove into town in the morning. Now that daylight was slipping away, he couldn’t figure why she was clearing off the snow. By the time he got out of his vehicle, she had brushed off the last of it. He yelled to her as she was climbing the stairs into the house. She gave a wave then continued inside.
He saw Cesar in the barn. It had remained cold throughout the day. Temperatures never made it out of the thirties. There was little snowmelt, except in completely exposed areas where the wind had helped. Jack acknowledged Virgil’s presence from the corral. Virgil walked to him, reached through the rails and stroked his neck. Jack responded with a soft nicker. While he was stroking Jack, Cesar came out of the barn and joined him.
“How did it go today?”
“It was good. I’ve got some very good people in my life, but we are going to be spread pretty thin for a while.”
“Maybe, when you start looking for someone, try a new direction.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Other day I was over to the Thompson place, High Lonesome. Miss Marian working hard over there to get that place back to where it was with Manuel and that boy you brought down off the mountain. He’s a good kid, hard worker, teaching her some Mex. Got to thinking, lot more folks like me in these parts than when Sam brought me here. Not so many hiding in the shadows. They own stores, restaurants, becoming a regular part of the community. So maybe when you look for someone new, maybe you want to think about that.”
Virgil took his foot off the lowest rail.
“You know, every so often you are a step ahead of me. This might be one of those occasions.”
“Well, I’m just trying to keep you up with the times. I read the paper, watch the news. Diversity, I think that’s it diversity.”
Virgil looked at Cesar.
“You know, old man, I’m just sorry you’re not thirty years younger. Hell, I’d hire you.”
“I think they call that ageism,” Cesar shot back. Virgil laughed so loud Jack jumped back from the rail.
“What was that all about?” Clara asked him when he came into the kitchen a few minutes later. Virgil told Clara about the exchange.
“You know, Virgil, he’s not far off the mark. The world, this country, things are different, always changing. Can’t ignore that.”
“That’s just what I told Bob, the mayor, the other day. I know it but some people are going to fight any change.”
“Hell, you can’t let that stop you. Those idiots are always going to be there.” Virgil hadn’t heard a swear word out of Clara in a long time.
“Guess I struck a nerve,” he said.
“Oh, it’s just that I get so disgusted when I’m faced with stupidity. And these days when I turn on the TV, I see that there’s more than enough of it to go around. The latest I hear is that some nut wants to build a wall clear across the country to keep all the immigrants out. Is this a serious consideration? If it wasn’t for the immigrants, this country never would have gotten a start. You know, I’ve watched a couple of these genealogy shows on television, people trying to trace their roots. Seems to be a big fascination of a lot of people lately. Some of them going all the way back to the pilgrims, but no matter how far back they go, I’ve yet to see somebody who didn’t originally come from some other part of the world.”
“I don’t disagree. Anyway, my problem is a little more local.”
“Well, I’ve got faith in you, Virgil. There’s nobody on that town council that you can’t drag, even if it’s kicking and screaming, into the twenty-first century.”
“I’ll be happy if I can drag them into the twentieth century. By the way, why were you out brushing the snow off your car just now?”
“I’m heading home after supper.”
“Clara, that’s a long drive down toward El Paso. It’s going to be dark pretty soon. Why are you doing it at night?”
“Well, you know what they say about under the cover of darkness.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Well, you know I went into Hayward to see Everett one more time before I left.”
“I know and he wasn’t there. They told me he was released when I called.”
“Well, he was there.”
“But they told me he was released, some woman they said took him out of the hospital.”
“Well, that part is right. I was the woman. On the way into the hospital I got to thinking about what you said, about Everett being in danger if he went back home. So when I got there, we had a little talk. Doc Sam came in, said Everett was good to go. So he’s upstairs right now, taking a nap. After supper we’re leaving. He agreed to spend some time down El Paso way as my guest. I figure going at night is safest if anyone is keeping tabs on him.”
“Clara, I can’t ask you to do this.”
“You didn’t ask. All you did was tell me about your concern for Everett’s safety. He and I discussed the rest. It is one less worry you have. Everett will be company for me. We got a lot of catching up to do and I sure do like the idea that I can help you out a little. Virgil, you know you are as much to me as my own sons. So don’t buck me on this. It is something I’m going to do. My mind’s made up.” Virgil saw the look of determination, heard it in her voice. He didn’t argue.
By the time they had finished eating, all light was gone from the evening sky. Cesar and Virgil had loaded Clara’s car.
“Don’t worry, son. I’ll take good care of your Aunt Clara. I’ll make sure she keeps it under eighty on the way down to El Paso. By the way, thank you for making sure my animals are being looked after. That means a lot. Never been without a horse. He’s a good one. Got good blood, trained him myself. Neck reins so quick he’ll turn on a dime. Everett Junior says I’m too old to ride. What he probably means is not that I’m too old to ride, hell, I’ve been riding since before I started to walk. I think he means I’m too old to fall. He’s probably right about that, but just knowing Ranger is there and ready whenever I can ride is important to me. Guess maybe like Everett, you’re too young to understand. Anyway, thanks again. This is for you, by the way. Clara convinced me to give it to you.” He handed Virgil a slip of paper. Then he got into the passenger seat next to Clara.
Virgil and Cesar watched as they drove the length of the driveway, then until the lights of the car could no longer be seen on the county road. When Virgil and Cesar got inside, Cesar asked Virgil what was on the slip of paper.
“Couldn’t read it out there, too dark.” He took it out of his pocket, unfolded it, then laid it on the kitchen table. “The Desert Rose, fifteen miles past the turnoff for Inscription Rock.”
“Inscription Rock,” Cesar repeated. “Isn’t that the place they call El Morro?”
“I believe so,” Virgil said.
“What do you think it means?”
Virgil hesitated before answering.
“I think it means if I want to find Everett Jessup Junior, I’ve got to go to a place called the Desert Rose two miles beyond El Morro.”
Chapter 35
Before he made the trip to El Morro, Virgil decided to drive once more down to Cielo. He had made an appointment at Mesquite Sand and Gravel. He wanted to meet James Zambrano in the flesh. He thought it was time. Clara and Everett Jessup were safely down in El Paso. The new schedule in the office seemed to be working out. Everyone was trying not to be overly solicitous to Rosie. They were failing miserably but she was managing to put up with it.
Kyle Harrison had called the day after Virgil had asked for his help.
“Okay, Virgil. Here’s what I’ve got. James Zambrano is clean as far as I can find out personally but he is connected.”
“Connected how, what do you mean?” Virgil responded.
“Well, it’s interesting. Crime syndicates have evolved, changed with the times, a lot more sophisticated. This isn’t twenties Chicago, lining up your competition in a garage and mowing them down. The family Zambrano traces his roots to has a long history, but this guy is third maybe even fourth generation. No record, clean as a whistle. Graduated from an Ivy League school with a major in geology, then went on for more study at the Montana Bureau of Mines and Geology. He has all the background for running the Mesquite Sand and Gravel Company.”
“So what are you saying? This operation is totally legitimate?”
“What I’m saying is be careful. On the face of it everything says so. He may or may not be involved in something, but they, his connections, don’t like too much scrutiny. If he is connected to something illegal, he might call in some outside help to stay removed from the action. These guys he may call in are dangerous. They play hardball. If there is anything going on it isn’t running numbers in the barbershop on the corner, small-time crime, Virgil. He is not on our radar, otherwise we would be dealing with it, but if you get on to something definite, call us. Don’t go it alone.”
Virgil was replaying the conversation in his head on the way down to Cielo. He knew he was operating on instinct at this point, but until he spoke to Everett Junior there wasn’t much else to go on.
When he had called for the appointment, he’d gone through the receptionist. He didn’t want to involve Jessica Allison. Virgil needed to meet with Zambrano. It would have been hard to explain to someone like Kyle, who came at crime and criminals from a clinical perspective, but Virgil was more instinctual. He wondered what his gut would tell him about Zambrano. What Virgil hadn’t told Kyle Harrison was that if there was a solid connection between Zambrano, a burnt-out trailer with a charred corpse inside, along with a growing list of other factors, he very much was afraid that the “outside help” was already on the scene.
• • •
Kyle was right. Zambrano didn’t look like a dues-paying member of any organized crime syndicate. As Virgil sat in the smoothly polished leather chair he was offered, a glance around the room suggested nothing other than the activities with which the company was typically engaged. There were photographs on the wall depicting different stages of sand and gravel processing, along with the framed diplomas and certificates recognizing the accomplishments of the man sitting on the other side of the desk.
“Well, Sheriff Dalton, how can I help you?” The man asking the question was younger than Virgil, but not by much.
“Actually, I don’t know if you can. This is a bit of a fishing expedition for me. For the last couple of weeks I’ve been looking into the disappearance of one Everett Jessup. Turns out his home was set on fire. There was a body found inside but it turned out that it wasn’t Mr. Jessup. It took a while to find this out because the fire was intense. The body was little more than a skeleton. It wasn’t pretty.”
“I can imagine.”
“Anyway, here’s what led me here. Mr. Jessup, it turns out, worked for you, or that is to say you hired him and his partner, Michael Stark. They worked for you as accountants for some time, I understand.” Virgil paused for a reaction.
“Oh, yes. Jessup, I remember now. Michael Stark was the senior partner. We contracted with them and they did work for us.”
“My understanding is they actually were your accountants from the time you bought the company up until this past year.”
“Yes, well, we decided it was time for a change.”
“Oh, can you tell me what led to that decision?” Virgil had the sense that James Zambrano was not comfortable with the inquiry.
“Well, as I remember, there was some question as to whether or not they could handle or keep up with the company’s growth. The company has tripled in size since we purchased it almost six years ago. They were a small firm, after all, and I might add did a very competent job for us in the beginning. But I don’t see what that would have to do with Mr. Jessup’s disappearance.”
“Well, as I said, I’m just trying to connect some of the dots at this point. There are some things that bother me.”
“Well, I don’t see how I can help you further. They did work for us but now we’ve moved in a different direction. It happens all the time in business.”
“Probably you are right about that. I guess I’ll just have to keep on digging. It’s just that coincidences bother me. I am like a dog with a bone when I run into them.”
“I don’t exactly follow, coincidences?”
“Yes. First you discontinue your business relationship with the accounting firm. Then Mr. Stark, Mr. Jessup’s partner, dies shortly thereafter.”
“Yes, I know about that, but my understanding was that was the result of an auto accident. The road he crashed on, I’ve heard, is considered quite dangerous.”
“Yes, all of that is true, but I’m considering having the state police look into that again, a second time. There are some questions as to whether it was an accident. I understand Mr. Stark had driven that road for years. Then of course there is the fire
in the trailer, another accident? On the other hand, maybe it was made to look like an accident.”
“But I thought there was talk of some illegal activity connected with that fire. Sounds like two very disparate occurrences to me. I thought I even heard something about a drug lab exploding.”
“Now that’s surprising, how did you hear about that? We never released any of that kind of information.” Zambrano paused for a moment. Put his hand to his tie and cleared his throat.
“Oh, I think one of the drivers was talking about it. A couple of the workers in the company are volunteers at the fire department. We encourage civic participation. They must have been at the sight of the fire. In any operation like this, there is always a rumor mill up and running. That’s probably where I heard it.”
“In any event, once it became known that Mr. Jessup was not in the trailer when it burned, a couple of men paid a visit to his father looking for him. They didn’t get the cooperation they were looking for, so they beat him real bad, then left him for dead. That really caught my attention, really pissed me off, because he is a very nice elderly man.” Virgil looked for a reaction to his word choice but saw none. “Obviously, there is some kind of connection. I came here today hoping you might be of some help because the only link I could come up with was the sand and gravel company. I admit it’s not much but it’s the only link I could find.”
“Well, I wish I could help you, Sheriff, but like you said yourself, it’s not much of a connection that these two men once worked here. Probably, Mr. Stark’s was just an unfortunate accident. As for Mr. Jessup, maybe he was involved in some other kind of activity. Owed money to the wrong people, something like that, not too uncommon, gambling, drugs, etcetera. That’s about all I can offer. Personally, I think you are wasting your time. My advice would be to let it go before you get in over your head. It could be dangerous.”