Shattered Dreams

by Frank Hayes

  “I’m sorry.” The words sounded feeble to his own ears. “I wish I could have been involved in the investigation but it never came to me because the state police investigated. That probably isn’t much comfort for you, but the reason I am here today is because of my gut feeling.” Virgil spent the next ten minutes laying out in full detail the reasons behind his visit. It was not something he ordinarily would have done with any civilian, but he felt like he owed Mildred Stark something. It was all he had.

  “So, you believe me?”

  “Yes. Yes, I do, Mrs. Stark. But I need to find the reasons to substantiate that belief. So let’s get back to what you told me earlier. What did sand and gravel want?”

  “Well, I don’t know. I didn’t call them back. It was too late yesterday. I figured they were closed. That is why I called you instead. I thought I would call them back today.”

  Virgil took a bite out of the muffin sitting on the plate in front of him.

  “Mrs. Stark, would you do me a favor and make that call now? I’d kind of like to know what that call is about.”

  Virgil was on his second muffin and second cup of coffee when she hung up the phone.

  “That was the HR person, Jessica, Miss Allison. She is a very nice girl. I’ve met her a couple of times. Michael always spoke very highly of her. She told me that she had something for me from when Michael worked there.”

  “Did she say what it was?”

  “No. That’s the odd thing, she said she would call back in a couple of minutes.”

  “Do you have any of your husband’s records from his work there?”

  “No. I asked for them but they said that was company property. But Michael always backed up everything related to his business. Maybe that’s what she was referring to.” The phone rang. Mildred picked it up right away. “Oh, yes, Miss Allison. I’ll be there this afternoon. Oh, are you sure? If you don’t mind. Thank you very much.” She replaced the phone in the cradle. “Well, I was right. Miss Allison says she has a couple of flash drives that were Michael’s.”

  “Why didn’t she tell you that earlier?”

  “She said something about speaking on her cell phone rather than the company line. Sounds kind of strange, doesn’t it?” Virgil didn’t say anything. “She also said she would drop them off within the hour. I offered to go get them but she insisted.”

  “I’m going to need them, Mrs. Stark. So if you don’t mind, I’ll wait.”

  “You want to show them to Mr. Jessup, my husband’s partner.”

  “Yes. They wouldn’t mean anything to me.”

  “I understand. I just want to make sure I have everything related to Michael’s business, in case the IRS has any questions. Document everything. Michael always drove that point home to me. Guess that’s the mind of an accountant at work.”

  Chapter 39

  “Leaving, Miss Allison?”

  “Yes, going out for lunch, for a change of scenery.” She turned away from the receptionist and walked out the front door. The sun was bright. She squinted in the slanting light. It was at the highest point of its arc at this time of the year but still low enough in the sky that she reached up when she got in her car and grabbed her sunglasses out of the compartment above the windshield. She figured to be gone an hour at the most. There weren’t that many cars in the parking lot. She knew if she used the cutoff to High Ridge Road she would save some time. As she pulled out of the lot, she noticed another car pulling out in back of her.

  She had been driving for fifteen minutes when she came to that turnoff. She noticed the car turn when she did. For a moment she wondered if it was her paranoia on overdrive, then whether it was even the same car that came out of the parking lot in back of her. The thought only lingered for a moment until she came to the next turn.

  High Ridge Road was not a road to get less than your full attention. It was one of those roads in high desert where straightaways were a luxury. It had more twists and turns than an amusement park ride, but if you could handle the navigation, those roads could shave time and miles off a trip. Jessie actually liked the road because of the switchbacks, which provided constantly changing views if you could go slow enough to enjoy them. The vistas were spectacular. She had hiked in this area many times. The road reminded her of the road she drove up to Jerome the last time she had been in the Sedona area and to a slightly lesser extent of the San Juan Skyway, which wound from Silverton down to Ouray, where she lived for a year after college while having illusions of becoming a professional skier.

  Jessie remembered that it was off one of these ridges that Michael Stark had met a fatal end. She glanced in her rearview mirror. The car behind her was coming up fast, but she had made up her mind that she wasn’t going to go any faster just because he was in a hurry. She crisscrossed a saddleback two or three times with the car right behind her. Her hands began to tighten on the wheel. Despite her vow, she saw her speedometer starting to edge up. It made no difference. The car was right on her tail, so close most of the time that braking wasn’t even an option on these hairpin turns. At one point he was so near, she couldn’t see his headlights. She hit a brief straightaway, thought about braking, but realized the straightaway was so brief that if he couldn’t stop the crash would probably take the two of them right over the edge into a deep crevasse.

  “What is his problem?” she said out loud. She leaned on the horn. Then, when she saw no response again and again, no result, she was becoming frantic. She vaguely remembered a hiking trail with a pull-off for one or two cars from the last time she had been on the road. She had thought she might suggest it to some friends on their next outing. She didn’t remember passing it. Then on one of the hairpin turns, she saw a marker. She was going too fast to read it but she couldn’t think of anything else it could indicate. When she came around two one-eighty-degree turns, she glimpsed another straightaway up ahead.

  She felt the car behind actually nudge her bumper, and she glimpsed two men in the car. Coming off the final turn, she pressed the accelerator, opening a short gap after seeing the break in the shoulder up ahead. Her hands gripped the wheel. Her knuckles turned white. Thirty feet ahead she saw the cutoff. She pulled sharply to the right. The tires left the hard surface. She felt the gravel under the tires as she started to brake. The car yawed to the right, then to the left, tires spinning, dirt and gravel peppering the underside of the car, a cloud of it rising up in back of her. The car, brakes locked, slid for twenty feet before finally skidding to a complete stop only a couple of feet from the wall of stone marking the end of the pull off. The cloud of dust continued to rise in the car’s wake.

  Jessie had glanced in the mirror as she pulled off, just in time to see the other car fly by. She heard the screech of its tires on the hard pavement as it disappeared into the sharp turn up ahead, then it was gone. She sat clutching the wheel, gasping for long-overdue breath.

  Minutes passed before she finally moved. She rolled down the window. She had thought she heard a distant noise. The cold air rushed in, blowing its freshness over her. She opened the door, almost falling out onto the dirt. She was shaking. She leaned against the car until the moment passed. Then she walked on legs that she could barely feel until she reached the road. There was no sign of the other car. Because of the twists and turns along with the changes in elevation, she could see up ahead for almost three-quarters of a mile. There was nothing. No sign. She crossed the road to the shoulder on the other side to get an even more expansive view.

  It was then that she saw the smoke rising from the bottom of the canyon in a spiral. She walked further along the road to get a better view. It made no difference. The drop-off was so sheer that even when she had come in a direct line with the spiral of smoke there was nothing else to see. No sign of wreckage, nothing. The canyon bottom was so far away, while the piñons and scrub brush at the bottom were so dense that they obscured anything beneath them from view. She stood for a moment trying to process what had occurred, then turned and walked back
to her car. At last she got back in, started the engine, put the car into reverse, then carefully backed out onto the road.

  Ten minutes later, when the road straightened out, she saw a couple of houses tucked into the slope of the ridge. She slowed, then a little further on she saw a man standing by the side of the road. When she recognized Virgil she slowed even more, then turned into the parking area that had been carved out of the slope where it met the road. She pulled to a stop next to Virgil’s cruiser.

  “I told Mrs. Stark that I’d walk down here to wait for you. Didn’t know if you knew the road that well.” He made the comment as she was climbing out of the car. “Are you okay?” He knew immediately the answer to his question. “What happened? Take your time.”

  He reached out, taking her arm, then led her to the steps that led up to the Stark house. He lowered her down onto the second step. He felt her almost crumple as she began to sob. He sat next to her, held her close until her cries began finally to subside.

  For the next few minutes she recounted what had happened. Mrs. Stark had come out onto the deck. Hearing the muffled sobs, she came down with a glass of water. While Jessie drank, Virgil explained what had happened.

  “I guess I know now for sure why Michael went off that road. Thank god she didn’t end up the same way.”

  Jessie sat up, handed the empty glass to Mrs. Stark. Then she turned to Virgil.

  “Thank you. I’m a lot better now, especially seeing you, but the paranoia that we talked about in your office has kicked up a couple of notches.” Jessie spent the next couple of minutes talking about her harrowing ride. Virgil listened without interrupting. She was obviously agitated and needed to talk, that was obvious. By the time she finished, he could see a subtle change in her. Her agitation had finally been replaced by a level of calm.

  “Do you want to come inside?” Mrs. Stark had returned up the stairs to the house. They were still sitting on the stair. Virgil stood up and reached out to her. She brushed some nonexistent dirt from her skirt as she rose.

  “Well, I have something for her. That’s why I’m here.”

  “That is also why I am here. She is going to give me those flash drives. I want to have someone look at them.”

  “In that case, here.” She handed a small packet to Virgil.

  “It is probably best if I get back to the office. I don’t want to be gone too long. Besides, I’m curious. I want to see if anybody is surprised when I return.”

  “Are you all right now?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine. Just got to control my overactive imagination. Otherwise, like I said that night in your office, maybe I should make an appointment to see somebody about my past life traumas.”

  Virgil shook his head.

  “No. I still stand by my initial diagnosis. I think your view of reality is pretty much what it should be.”

  “So, are you saying I should be worried?”

  Virgil hesitated before answering.

  “Worried, no. Careful, yes, like you were with those guys who were riding your tail on the way up here. They didn’t know they were messing with a wannabe Indy driver. If I find out something that causes me to be more concerned for you going forward, I will call you right away. In any event, I plan to stay in touch.”

  “Thank you, Sheriff. That makes me feel a lot better.” She opened the car door then slid inside. She turned the key. “I’ll look forward to hearing from you, Virgil.” She gave a little wave then backed out onto the road. Not one car had passed by the entire time they were talking. Virgil returned the wave.

  He stood looking after her until her car was out of sight. Then he went to the cruiser, phoned in what had happened. He said he would meet the rescue vehicles at the site, not that there would probably be anyone to rescue. That was a one-way trip for whoever was in the car. He knew that. Her story of the incident on the road worried him but he didn’t want to unnecessarily raise her stress level. He didn’t know enough for that. Besides, he figured whoever was after her was no longer an immediate threat. In any case, there was an unexpected feeling that he now recognized. She had become more than just those blue eyes to him.

  Chapter 40

  “Something bothering you, Sheriff?” When Simon came into the office he saw Virgil sitting at the desk staring at the flash drives that he had been given to show Everett Jessup. He was alone in the office because Rosie had walked over to Margie’s for a late lunch. She told him she would bring back something for him. Virgil was at first unresponsive to Simon’s question.

  “Bothering me, no, merely wondering, hoping that these are going to offer a little insight. Evidently someone wants them bad enough to kill for. I know the direction they are pointing to but I don’t know. There’s something I’m missing, or I should say I feel like there is something I’m missing. By the way, what are you doing here? I thought today was an off day for you.”

  “It is. I left my hand in the drawer so I decided to stop by and pick it up.” He held up his hook.

  “Do you realize how bizarre that sentence sounds on so many levels?” The comment came from Rosita, who was standing in the doorway. “I left my hand in the drawer so I stopped by because I wanted to pick my hand up.” She started to laugh. Then Simon and Virgil started laughing.

  “Rosie’s right, Simon. You should always watch where you put your hands, especially if you’re on a date.” The laughter continued for another five minutes, only interrupted by a couple of other punch lines contributed by all three.

  “Well, we don’t make much money here but we do manage to have some fun,” Virgil said. “Now, give me my lunch. All of a sudden I’m hungry.”

  “Guess laughter is good for the appetite,” Simon said.

  “And for other things,” Rosie added. “I haven’t laughed like that in a while.”

  “So, Sheriff, what do you think is on those flash drives?”

  “I don’t know. I hope an accountant can tell me. That’s why I have to make a trip up to a place called the Desert Rose and show them to Everett Jessup. He seems real anxious to see them. Evidently, these are backup records for the accounting work he and Michael Stark did for Mesquite Sand and Gravel during the last couple of years. I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t know what I was looking at, so I’m hoping he’ll be able to tell me. He said he really needed them when I called him from Mrs. Stark’s. I understand they might be significant for him in terms of finding out what they contain, but it sounded somehow like more than that to me.”

  “The Desert Rose, what’s that, some kind of resort?” Simon asked.

  “I’m not sure,” Virgil answered. “All I know is it’s up near El Morro. Everett evidently goes there on occasion. His father says he has a friend there. I think his name is Randy. He was up there when his place was set on fire. He said that the boy who was there was hired to help him put up all the decorations for Christmas. According to Everett, he was hitchhiking back to the Rez after a thirty-day rehab stint. Everett picked him up one day and offered him a little work after he heard his story because he felt sorry for him. From what I’ve heard about him, it kind of sounds like something he would do.”

  “Hang on a minute, Virgil.” Rosie had sat down at her desk. She started hitting the keyboard. After a couple of minutes she sat back in her chair. “Well, you remember when you told me that old Mr. Jessup told you that Everett wasn’t inclined toward women. Well, I think Everett walks on the other side of the street.”

  “You mean that the Desert Rose is a . . .”

  “A gay-friendly resort,” Rosie said.

  “Mr. Jessup gave me that slip of paper with Everett’s number and directions. Guess I’d better make another call before I go up there.”

  “Yeah, Virgil. Folks might get a bit nervous if they see a sheriff’s car pull up to their front door, or just get the wrong idea. On the other hand, a good-looking man like you in a uniform, well, who knows . . . maybe you’ll get lucky.”

  Virgil grimaced slightly.

  “Nice to k
now you haven’t lost your sense of humor.” He made the comment as he fished for his wallet. “Found it.” He pulled the slip of paper with Everett’s number on it from his billfold. He reached over and placed the call. While Rosie and Simon talked, Virgil ended up leaving a message on Everett’s cell phone.

  “Guess maybe it’s not going to work out for today.” Just as he took a bite out of the sandwich Rosie had brought back for him, the phone rang.

  “Spoke too soon.” He made the comment as he put the phone back in the cradle. “That was Everett. He said he knew Michael always backed up his work but he didn’t know where the flash drives were. He said he had everything pertaining to the housing development, but Michael’s record will complete everything. He almost sounded excited that I was bringing it up to him.”

  “You’re not driving to the Desert Rose now? Virgil, it’s almost two o’clock. By the time you get there it will be almost dark.”

  “Actually, he wants to meet me at El Morro. He must be on your wavelength and doesn’t want a sheriff’s vehicle showing up on his doorstep.”

  “He said that?”

  “No, just figure you are probably right, as usual. He actually said he was planning on visiting El Morro. He said today is as good a day as any to do a little hiking in the desert.”

  “Well, thank you anyway for that left-handed compliment. But seriously, Virgil, that’s a long drive. El Morro Monument, isn’t that pretty much in the middle of nowhere?”

  “A lot of places in this part of the world are pretty much in the middle of nowhere. El Morro may be a little more so, but all those people that stopped there to write their names must not have thought so. The Zunis actually lived on top for a couple of hundred years. Besides, Everett said it will knock twenty miles off my trip. That’s something. Said he’ll meet me near Inscription Rock at the base of the Monument, around six.”

  “Sheriff, if you want some company, I’ll sign on.”