Shattered Dreams

by Frank Hayes

  “C’mon, Rosie, pass that bag over.”

  “I’m thinking,” she responded.

  “Thinking, what are you thinking about?” Dif asked.

  “I’m thinking about the benefits of immediate gratification, as opposed to denial, which might cause anxiety and be upsetting to a growing child. I think immediate gratification sounds healthier in the long run.” With that, she opened the bag and pulled out two doughnuts, cream-filled and covered in chocolate. They all looked at her.

  “Boy, that was a quick turnaround. I don’t know, Rosie, maybe that OB of yours is on the right track.”

  “Maybe, but if you saw him you’d know he hasn’t passed up a lot of doughnuts in his life.” She tossed the bag to Dif.

  “All right, now that we have solved the first challenge of the day, maybe we could move on.”

  “You mean we’re not just going to hang out and eat doughnuts? What a rip-off,” Dif commented

  “Sorry, but the town has this crazy idea that they should get something for all the money they pay you,” Virgil responded.

  “What have you got, Virgil?”

  “Well, Simon, it’s about where do we go after last night?”

  “How do you mean?”

  “Well, Everett Junior and Randy are in the hospital. Law enforcement down in Albuquerque are going to make sure they don’t go anywhere, but as far as I can see that still leaves us with a problem to solve. Those flash drives kind of make whoever has them a target. Before we considered going after Mr. Zambrano, I figured we had to neutralize that danger. They are important enough that people are willing to kill for them and already have to keep them from getting into the wrong hands. Randy and Everett thought they were just dealing with a local businessman. They had no idea who was in back of him. The people that came in to take care of Michael Stark, who also burned out that trailer of Everett’s, are not likely to go away or stop if they think there is a chance of getting those flash drives. I think we have to recognize that. Zambrano I’m pretty sure had nothing to do with the actual crimes, other than as a go-between. We have to get at him through the money laundering. The two sets of books that Michael Stark discovered will take care of that.”

  “So you don’t think it will end with those two guys who ended up at the bottom of the canyon?” Simon said.

  “No. My guess is that we picked up a little breathing room, but that would be too easy. I think if we don’t nail this situation down fast, there will just be a couple of new replacements showing up on our doorstep.”

  “When you close that operation down I’m sure going to be feeling really bad for all those people down there in Cielo,” Rosie said.

  “Yeah,” Virgil replied. “I’ve been wrestling with that in my mind all night. A lot of people are going to be thrown out of work, lose their homes. The whole area down there is just going to take a huge hit economically. The worst of it is that from what I can tell, the company has been a huge success and the area is booming.”

  “Isn’t there anything you can do to stop that from happening, Virgil? It’s not fair. Again the innocent victims get caught in the crossfire.” The room went silent at the impact of the words that came from Rosita.

  • • •

  The rest of the day was spent dealing with the day-to-day affairs of the office. Dif had gone home. Simon had begun making his rounds, while Rosie left for a doctor’s appointment. Virgil was no closer to a solution to his problem when the phone rang.

  “I guess you have been pretty busy since you haven’t called.” Virgil was caught off guard, almost didn’t recognize the voice, but he couldn’t forget those blue eyes. He took a deep breath. He wasn’t dead yet. “I tried to come up with reasons to call, any danger to my life or something just as mundane but realized they would just be lame excuses. The truth is, I thought just maybe we had a bit of a connection. I wanted to find out if it was something only I felt.”

  “No . . . no. I mean . . . yes, but, but I’ve been . . .” He felt as if he was babbling. “Wait, stop.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I’m talking to myself. Ignore me. I mean, starting at the beginning, yes. I felt it too . . . the connection. But things got a little crazy in my life. That night when you stopped by the office. Since then, I’ve thought about calling. I meant to but . . .”

  “So I get it. You’ve been busy. But am I wrong? I think we at least figured out something here. Right?”

  “Definitely,” Virgil replied.

  “So . . . so where do we go from here?”

  “Tonight. When Simon comes back from making his tour I can leave. It would probably be around nine o’clock. Too late, is that too late?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “If not, how about the Lazy Dog? A drink, a late-night bite, something to eat?”

  “Sounds good, I’d like that, almost sounds like a date. Oops, maybe I shouldn’t have used that word. I’ll plan on getting there around nine. Don’t worry if you’re a little late. I’ll wait. I’ve been waiting.”

  “I’ll be there. You won’t have to wait long. I promise. By the way, I can handle that word. See you then.”

  As soon as Virgil hung up the phone, he called Simon. “How is everything?”

  “Quiet, real quiet. I think the cold has driven most people indoors. Is something happening, anything wrong? I mean, you don’t usually call.”

  “No . . . nothing special,” Virgil lied. “Wondering if I could get out of here by nine?”

  “I don’t see any problem with that unless something unexpected comes up. Like I said, it’s real quiet. By the way, Virgil, I’m good. Thought a lot about what you said last night. Talked to Chet today. He’s my anchor. Was trying to put my past behind me, but like Chet says, that doesn’t really work. You just can’t erase it. You are better off confronting it, that way you can move on. He says talk about it. He says that’s what has helped him. Meeting Karen, he says, was the best thing that ever happened to him. Guess until I find that person, Chet is it for me.”

  “Well, I can think of some people you work with that might help you with that.” There was a silent moment on the line.

  “Yeah. I know,” Simon said.

  • • •

  Virgil was thinking about what Simon had said on his way to the Lazy Dog, about it being important to have someone to talk to. Virgil knew that well. He had always had that someone. Simon was also right about there not being a soul in sight when he made his rounds. Maybe it was the cold driving everyone indoors, Virgil thought. When he stepped through the door of the Lazy Dog, he found all those missing people. The place was packed. He saw Florence behind the bar. She gave him a wave. There was something about seeing her there that made him feel good. He did a quick scan. His eyes locked with Jessie’s in the third booth on the right.

  “I see Florence gave you a wave.” She made the comment as he slid into the booth across from her.

  “You know, when life is crazy, especially if you feel a little out of control, it’s nice to see something or someone who doesn’t change, an anchor point, to use a word I just heard. I mean there she is, closing in on eighty, behind the bar night after night.”

  “And still wielding that hockey stick.” Jessie smiled. Virgil could have sworn that her eyes got bluer.

  “Technically, she told me that it’s a hurling stick she got from an Irishman. It’s shorter, thicker and has a broader head. She said when she can no longer swing it, it will be time to retire.”

  “I don’t think that’s happening any time soon,” Jessie replied.

  The last of the night drifted away while she sat over a couple of glasses of zinfandel. Virgil was washing down a burger and fries with a couple of beers.

  “You sure you don’t want anything to eat?”

  “I’m about to steal one of those fries before you inhale them all.”

  Virgil pushed the plate across the table.

  “I’m done. They are all yours.”

  “I wasn’t hungry until I saw y
ou attack that burger.”

  “Yeah, all of a sudden I was starving. Don’t know where that came from.”

  “I have that effect on all the men I meet. Don’t know what it says about me.”

  “Do they have the same effect on you?”

  “Not usually, until now.” Virgil felt a sudden rush of heat at the comment.

  “So, do you want to talk about that out-of-control thing?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You said a few moments ago about things being crazy, your life out of control.”

  “Oh, I meant, it’s just my life, job. Wrestling with some things, trying to find my way. Nothing new. I spend a lot of time doing that, especially lately it seems. Now I’m wrestling with a way to do my job without hurting a lot of innocent people in the process.”

  “Maybe I can help you with that.”

  Half an hour later, as Virgil stepped out of his car he could still taste her on his lips.

  Chapter 45

  When Virgil pulled into the office parking lot the next morning, he was pleased to see everyone already there, even Simon, who had stayed late in the office the night before.

  “Guess you’re pretty tired,” Rosie said as she placed a cup of coffee on Virgil’s desk. Virgil didn’t respond.

  “Yeah, I can’t handle those late nights like I used to either, but of course I don’t have the motivation of a single man like you,” Dif said. The comment hung in the air expectantly.

  “I don’t believe it,” Virgil said. He looked at the four faces focused on his. “It’s a little after ten in the morning. How can you all possibly know?”

  “Virgil, you forget Florence and Edna have been joined at the hip since before either one had their first date. You thought you were going to have a little interlude in the Lazy Dog without us finding out about it,” Rosie said. Virgil shook his head.

  “It wasn’t an interlude. It was work-related.”

  “Oh, a couple of hours staring into one another’s eyes over drinks and a late-night snack. We understand, Virgil, all in a day’s work.”

  “Next time you have to work late, Sheriff, if you’re not up to it, just give me a call. I’d be happy to take some of that late-night work off your hands,” Simon offered. Virgil put his hands up in a surrender motion.

  “Okay . . . okay. Maybe it wasn’t all work-related. But she did give me some insight into James Zambrano. A lot of insight.”

  “But, Virgil, isn’t it over? I mean, you’ve got the flash drives. The hit men are at the bottom of the canyon. What’s left? Call up Kyle. Drop it in his lap. Let the feds take over.”

  “I could do that, but then a whole bunch of people are going to be hurt. I’m going to speak to Mr. Zambrano first. Here, keep these safe.” He tossed the flash drives onto Rosie’s desk.

  It was a little after two when he pulled into the parking lot of Mesquite Sand and Gravel. James Zambrano was waiting for him.

  “You know it’s all over,” Virgil said right off as he slid into the chair on the opposite side of the desk. Zambrano nodded.

  “I never wanted this. You probably don’t believe me. I get that. All I wanted was to build something of value. When I came here, this place was floundering. I mean, there was no eye on growth potential or expansion, much less innovating some new extraction techniques that were environmentally-friendly. No eye to the future. It was strictly run as a day-to-day operation. I knew I could turn it around. And I did. The business, the housing development, all of it growing and expanding. I tried to tell them in Chicago: This is a legitimate success. Leave it alone. They fought me, wouldn’t listen. I could do nothing to stop them. I tried. I really tried. I made trips back to Chicago again and again to forestall what they wanted to do. Finally, Michael Stark caught on, and that was the beginning of the end.”

  “That’s why we are having this talk. You are going down for this. I can’t stop that, neither can you. I think you know, soon it’s going to be out of my hands, even if I believe you never wanted it. But I’m hoping there is a way we can save a business, a lot of people’s jobs, along with the growth that has happened in this part of the county. From what I heard about you, I don’t think you would want that to happen. But when I turn the flash drives over to the feds, like I said, it’s out of my hands. So I’m giving you a chance to do something special here. It might be the kind of thing that under other circumstances you would have wanted all along.”

  • • •

  Virgil was sitting in his office two days later. Kyle Harrison was sitting across from him.

  “If what you say is on these flash drives proves accurate, we are going to make a lot of people in Chicago extremely unhappy. A huge revenue source is going to dry up. Indictments are going to follow. A lot of people are going away for extended vacations as guests of the government. You did a great job, Virgil. There’s just one strange thing in this whole scenario that I don’t get. After you called and told me what you had, I did a little preliminary checking. From what I’ve learned, I understand that James Zambrano has just sold the company and all of its assets to his employees for a dollar a share. It’s become an employee-owned and directed company. My understanding is that they have already formed a board of directors. Because he did this before any arrest or indictment, I don’t think we can touch Mesquite Sand and Gravel or any of its holdings, so I guess it will be business as usual for everybody down there. I just can’t figure Zambrano out. It’s almost like he saw what was coming and didn’t want to bankrupt the company, throwing all those people out of work and out of their homes. Guess it goes to show you that not-so-nice people can do good things.”

  “Really strange, isn’t it?” Virgil replied. A short time later, he stood in the doorway watching as Kyle Harrison pulled out of the parking area. Rosie was next to him.

  “That was a really good thing you did, Virgil. It’s a shame no one will ever know about it.”

  “That’s the way it has to be. It will be, has to be, our secret. You know, I’m going to take the rest of the day off. I have to be at the town council meeting tonight so I have to get back to the ranch. There’s a bag with some bloody clothes that I want them to see when I speak to them about how this area is changing.”

  “That should get their attention.”

  “You stole the words right out of Cesar’s mouth.”

  • • •

  Virgil’s ride home was different. His mind was as clear as the cloudless sky overhead. He felt like he had just come out of a long, dark tunnel. There was still a lot of winter ahead, but the idea of more cold and snow didn’t depress him. He actually looked forward to both. He was hoping for some long, quiet nights sitting in front of a roaring fire. When he rolled into the driveway, he saw Cesar leaning against the corral fence looking almost like he was waiting for him. He stepped out of the cruiser, took one or two steps toward the house, figuring Cesar would join him. Turning, he saw that he hadn’t moved from his spot.

  “What’s up?” he shouted across the space between them. Cesar waved him to come over, then turned and started walking toward the barn. Virgil hesitated for a second, then ran to join him. He caught up to him just as he stepped through the barn door. He took a couple of steps, then paused at the first stall. Virgil was puzzled. Cesar motioned him toward the stall. Virgil stepped closer, then looked over the top. There, lying on top of a bed of straw, was a rust-red Jersey calf with big brown eyes who bawled when she saw Virgil. Cesar handed Virgil a note.

  “She’s the last Jessup calf left to represent the hopes and dreams of her ancestors. I hope she brings those hopes and dreams to you. Thank you, Virgil, for saving my son.” Virgil smiled, then cleared his throat as he put the note in his pocket. He glanced at Cesar, who was shaking his head.

  “What’s bugging you?”

  “Virgil, I just want you to know, I’ve done every job on this ranch you’ve ever asked me to do, but I’m telling you here and now that when the time comes, I ain’t milking that cow.”
/>   Virgil smiled again.

  “Tell me that again sometime, when we don’t have any milk for your coffee.” The calf bawled. Virgil smiled again then turned and left the barn.

  Book by Frank Hayes

  Death at the Black Bull

  Death on the High Lonesome

  Shattered Dreams

  About the Author

  Frank Hayes is a high school teacher who has started a new career as a novelist. He lives and writes in New York’s mid-Hudson River Valley. He is the author of three Sheriff Virgil Dalton Mysteries, Death at the Black Bull, Death on the High Lonesome, and Shattered Dreams.