Dog Gone Lies (Pacheco & Chino Mysteries Book 1) (12 page)

Ray didn’t even get a chuckle out of Tyee—he thought he might have even offended him.

“Look, I was just kidding. I won’t do this without you and Big Jack. If you prefer your name isn’t included in the company name that’s fine—but I would prefer that it’s in there. If you want it to be Chino and Pacheco Private Investigations, that’s fine too. What do you think?”

Tyee smiled at Ray and Big Jack. “Pacheco and Chino—done.” They all shook hands and helped Big Jack stock his beer coolers.

Ray called the phone company and was pleasantly surprised that the price for all the services he wanted was very reasonable. He ordered a phone line to his cabin and an additional two lines to Big Jack’s store. He decided that they needed the extra line to allow Tyee to be on the computer while he was on the phone. He asked the person taking his order to bill the phones to his cabin address in the name of Pacheco and Chino, Private Investigations. His days of hiding in the woods hadn’t lasted long—he was glad.

Tuesday

Around noon, Ray and Happy were headed toward the Lone Post Café. He thought he would have lunch and talk to Sue some and then go by the sheriff’s office to see if they had identified the body. The Café was busy as usual. Ray took a seat at the counter and was quickly served sweet iced tea by Sue, along with a wink. Ray was still adjusting to this new relationship.

“How is Mr. Pacheco today?”

“Not so bad, Sue. How’s your day going?”

“Busy. Which is both good and bad. I like being busy in that the time goes quicker, but we’ve been shorthanded today so it’s been just a little too hectic.”

She took his order and headed in the other direction. Didn’t look like they would have much time to chat today.

“I thought I might find you here.” It was Deputy Clayton with a conspiratorial grin. Ray was sure he didn’t like everybody knowing about his relationship with Sue. He wasn’t real sure he wanted to hide it either—mostly it just felt strange.

“Hello, deputy. I was planning on coming by your office in a little bit. Has the body been identified yet?”

“Another good reason I caught you. Might be best to just avoid the sheriff and the office for a while. Martinez was on the warpath this morning, aimed mostly at you. I actually think part of this is the election and the fact that he might lose—don’t believe he thought that was possible until the barbeque.”

“Well, I don’t really give a damn if he’s on the warpath or not.”

“Calm down, Ray. I have the info you want. The woman’s been identified as a Mrs. Opal Richards, age eighty-six, address is in Albuquerque. Her husband died about a year ago. Her son, who lives in Albuquerque, was notified as next of kin. Does that mean anything to you?”

“Yep. She had a running feud with Ms. Jackson over the sale of a dog. My guess is she’s the one who wrote the note and probably was the one who slashed the tires.”

“Eighty-six year old lady slashing tires—are you sure?”

“Not one-hundred percent, but I think you can be seventy percent sure she’s the one. Once you talk to the son you’ll realize that she was suffering some mental problems, probably Alzheimer’s disease. She had fixated on Ms. Jackson and was blaming her for everything, including her husband’s heart attack. I think the big questions now are where’s Monica Jackson and where’s Mrs. Richard’s car?”

“Do you think Jackson is alive?”

“My first guess was that we would find her body somewhere in the area of my cabin—because of the dog. Now, I’m beginning to think she’s alive and there was some kind of confrontation with Mrs. Richards. Looks to me like there are only two possibilities. The first is that Mrs. Richards had a confrontation with Ms. Jackson, which I would guess ended up being a kidnapping by Mrs. Richards. Then something happened and Mrs. Richards was shot. Why, how, by whom—I really don’t know. Monica panicked and took off in Mrs. Richards’ car, leaving the dog. So where would she go? I would think she’d either head back home to Albuquerque or she’d head to El Paso. I’ve talked to her husband and if she went back home I think she would have contacted him—and I don’t believe she has, so my guess is that she went to El Paso and is hiding. The second option is that there’s a third person involved and somehow Mrs. Richards got caught in the middle while she was stalking Ms. Jackson. Once again Mrs. Richards was shot by someone, and this third person took Ms. Jackson and is holding her somewhere for reasons I don’t know.”

During this discussion Sue had brought Ray his grilled cheese and poured Deputy Clayton a cup of coffee.

“Well, that sure makes sense Ray, based on what we do know. Are you investigating this matter for the ex-husband?”

“He asked me to, but I said no. Not sure our sheriff has any desire to cooperate with my independent investigation. I might still poke around a little, but officially I’m just a casual observer.”

“I wish you were investigating. The sheriff isn’t going to do anything. He’s sent me off to look into a campsite disturbance in the Gila Wilderness. That’ll keep me out of his hair for the rest of the day.”

“Sorry, deputy. All you can do right now is follow orders. Keep your people out there putting together more meetings and getting people registered. I have a feeling this will work out just fine.”

The deputy seemed pleased with the pep talk. He said he’d better get going and left.

Ray finished his lunch and lingered some. Sue came around and they talked. Ray told her about the phone and that he thought it might be working within a couple of weeks. She said that would be nice to be able to phone him. Ray finally decided he couldn’t just sit there, so he said goodbye and left. He stopped outside when he realized that he should have asked Sue if she wanted to have dinner or something, once again feeling like he wasn’t handling this Sue stuff very well. He had some goodies Sue had given him for Happy, so he opened the back and handed over the treats. As he was turning to get in the Jeep, Sue walked up.

“How about if I come by your place a little later and we have dinner together?”

“That would be great, Sue.”

“See you later.” She went back into the café. Why was this so easy for her and so hard for him? He had no idea.

Ray headed back toward his cabin, then decided to take a quick trip by Big Jack’s and see if Tyee was there. He parked in front and let Happy out. Happy headed around to the dock to find his favorite spot in the sun. Big Jack was helping a customer as Ray walked in—they waved and Ray went into the computer room.

“Hello, Ray. How was lunch at the Lone Post Café?”

“You think you’re being wise, but I consider it nosy.”

“Oh, a little sensitive today.”

“Not really. Lunch was fine. Saw Clayton and he said they identified the body as Mrs. Richards.”

Ray filled Tyee in on his speculation about what might have happened. Tyee agreed that the possibilities they’d outlined made sense. He also told Ray that he’d found the Dog Shows of America. They were located in Phoenix and he had their phone number.

They discussed when Ray wanted to go fishing again and agreed on Thursday morning. Ray was starting to regret agreeing to compete in the tournament. It had seemed like the right thing to do at the time, but now there was just too much going on.

Ray called the number for Dog Shows of America and asked to speak to Nathan Young.

“Hello, this is Nathan Young.”

“Mr. Young, my name is Ray Pacheco. I’m working with the sheriff’s department looking into the disappearance of Monica Jackson—do you have some time to answer a few questions?”

“Of course. I’m so worried about her. Do you have any idea about what has happened?”

“No, sir. At this point we’re just trying to contact as many people as we can and see where it takes us. We really have no solid leads on what might’ve happened or where she might be. Do you know Ms. Jackson well?”

“Oh, sure. Monica’s been a part of our organization for years, both as a breeder and as a dog show participant. We’re a full service organization, offering all types of training and certifications for breeders, as well as being a dog show sponsor. Monica’s been one of our most enthusiastic participants in many of the programs we put on. I just can’t believe that she’s missing.”

“When was the last time you saw her or talked to her?”

“I would say it was on the phone about two weeks before the El Paso show, so I guess that’s more than three weeks ago. She called to ask me about another member and whether I thought he was going to show his dog in El Paso—they had kind of an intense rivalry going.”

“What’s his name?”

“Well, I’m sure he has nothing to do with this mess with Monica. They have dogs in the same class and they’re usually the one and two finishers. Sometimes he would win and sometimes Monica would. Over the last year or so it had become a little personal and they’d exchanged some unfortunate words at the last show—but it was just the competitive juices flowing—nothing sinister.”

“I’m sure that’s true, Mr. Young. Still, I’ll need to check it out. What’s the man’s name?”

“Nate Carter.”

“Do you know where he lives, and do you have a phone number for him?”

“Sure. He lives in Dallas, I’ll have to look up his number.”

“That’s fine I can get that in a minute. We’re also looking for someone connected to the El Paso show named Betty. Does that mean anything to you?”

“Of course. That’s Monica’s best friend, Betty Adams. She and Monica always spent a lot of time together during the shows.”

Ray explained that he would need to know where Betty lived, too, and her phone number if Nate had it. Carter put Ray on hold to get the information. He came back on the line and gave Ray both addresses and phone numbers.

“Thank you very much, Mr. Young. This should help us get some more information. Were Betty and Nate both at the El Paso show?”

“Sure. Nate won again easily since Monica didn’t show up. I saw Betty on Saturday morning and then she abruptly checked out and I guess went home. That was after it turned out that Monica wasn’t going to be there, so I figured she was upset about that and decided to go home early.”

“Were you aware of a problem Ms. Jackson had with a customer of hers named Richards?”

“Yeah, I was. Monica called me several times about the problem with that customer. She even faxed me the breeding papers to look at to see if I could see anything wrong. As I told Monica at the time, they looked okay to me, but forgeries aren’t unheard of in the breeding business and I’m not an expert in forged documents. I asked her who she purchased the dogs from, but she never gave me an answer. I think she was really worried that there was something wrong.”

“I think that’s all I have right now, Mr. Young. Let me give you my private number in case something comes up.”

Ray knew it was risky, but he couldn’t have Mr. Young thinking of something and calling the sheriff’s office, so he gave him Big Jack’s number and hoped for the best.

Tyee had stepped out of the storeroom while Ray was on the phone—he came back in with a diet Coke.

“Got some complete names now and addresses.”

Ray gave Tyee the information. “Now we should be able to track them down.”

“Ray, there was a message for you from Mike Jackson. He sounded very upset and said he wanted you to call him right away. Not sure, but it sounded like some kind of emergency.”

Ray took the note with Mike’s number and once again got on the phone. He sure hoped they ran that new phone line soon or Big Jack was going to have another fit.

“Hello.”

“Mike, this is Ray. Is something wrong?”

“Oh Ray, I’m so glad you called. Everything is wrong. I just can’t believe it—it’s horrible. What am I going to do?”

“Mike, slow down. What’s wrong?”

“My son’s dead—my son Ed. The police called this morning. They found him in his car out in the desert—he’d been shot. My god, Ray, what in the hell is happening?”

Ray was stunned. He didn’t know Mike’s son, but first his ex-wife goes missing and then their son is shot? What
was
going on?

“Mike, did the police tell you anything?”

“They said it looked like a professional hit—whatever in the hell that means. I mean my son was a loser, but he wasn’t involved in any sort of gang or the mafia or anything like that. What are they talking about?”

“Mike, I don’t know what’s going on, but you have to remain calm. I’ll help you. I’ll drive up tomorrow morning and go see the police—give me any contact information they left with you. Also, you and I can meet once I see the police and talk about this—and about Monica. I have a very uncomfortable feeling that this is all connected. Are you okay to be alone right now?”

“Yeah, I’m okay. My other son, Luke, is coming over in a minute and picking me up. I’m going to go to his house.”

Ray took down the contact information for the police and for Luke, as well as Luke’s address. He told Mike he would call him sometime the next morning and then they could meet to discuss whatever he’d learned. He hung up.

Ray filled Tyee in on the latest events and asked if he wanted to drive up to Albuquerque in the morning. They agreed that they’d meet at Big Jack’s so Tyee could leave his boat at the dock. They set a time and Ray said goodbye. Leaving the store, Ray stepped out onto the dock. Big Jack was petting Happy and getting a lot of dog love in return.