Grave Consequences (16 page)

“Okay. We make it an Indian community, but not too small. A large pueblo, like around Taos,” Charlie said. “That's far enough away.”

“Okay, but she needs work,” Gordon replied. “How about looking for a job at, say, a small-town restaurant, as kitchen help, out of public view?”

“Yeah, and she'd drive a pickup, the older the better,” Charlie suggested.

“So what you're saying, is that she could be almost anywhere within four hundred miles. Nearly every city or town in this state is small, but this is a big state,” Gordon pointed out.

“We've got to start somewhere,” Charlie concluded, taking the Central ramp north on I-25, racing out to merge in with the mid-evening traffic. “Let's see what a woman thinks of this.”

“Gina?”

*   *   *

Less than fifteen minutes later they pulled up in front of Gina and Nancy's town house in Albuquerque's Northeast Heights. The outside was generic, with drought-resistant flowers, gravel, and a few ornamental trees and shrubs. The ladies did, however, have a backyard with a tiny lawn and a grill. The four of them sometimes got together to barbecue steaks or burgers. Charlie and Gina had grown up together in Shiprock and their friendship had been rekindled after he left the Army.

As they stepped up onto the small porch, the light came on above them and Gina opened the door. “Hi, guys, come on inside. Nancy's still on the job, but she and I have talked a little about Lola Tso and these crimes and I'll give you my slant on her situation. As an attorney, I've had women clients who've been forced to go underground—usually as a result of domestic violence situations. There can be several effective options for a woman on the run.”

They stepped inside the open-space design combo living room–kitchen, moving immediately toward the Mexican tile-topped breakfast bar. There were tall, leather upholstered chairs on both sides and a plate of cookies in the center.

“So, you've come up empty so far?” Gina asked, stepping over by the coffeepot on the counter. “Coffee, right?”

They both nodded, and she poured three mugs full.

“If I recall, Nancy said that Lola was a pretty bright girl,” Charlie ventured, taking the offered cup, then reaching for a cookie.

“Yeah, and more. According to Nancy, Lola was a survivor. What Nancy couldn't figure out is what she was doing pawning jewelry stolen from a dead man—one who'd been killed and the victim of an active investigation. Not to mention grave robbing and the rest. Talk about raising flags to the authorities.”

“We brought that up the other night and Al suggested that maybe Lola didn't know about that at the time,” Gordon said, accepting the mug from Gina.

“Okay. Going with that assumption, then where did she get the necklace? From her boyfriend Jerry, who's part of Fasthorse's crew?” Charlie offered.

“Guys, Nancy told me that Lola was a thief, at least at the time she was hooking. The girl bragged more than once about stealing cash from a john's wallet. So why not grab a squash blossom necklace when nobody was looking?” Gina suggested. “A quick pawn for even quicker cash, then tearing up the ticket, never intending on redeeming the piece.”

“No honor among thieves, that's a given. Clearly Lola didn't know this necklace would link her to theft and murder,” Charlie said.

“Now she's stuck in the middle. That necklace points back from Buck's grave to Jerry, and from Jerry to Clarence Fasthorse,” Gina said. “That suggests that one of Fasthorse's crew, Jerry or Clarence himself, killed the silversmith during the carjacking, then robbed the grave and snagged the jewelry. Holding on to that necklace was a mistake, and whoever had it is trying to save their ass.”

“By killing Lola before she goes to the cops,” Gordon said, shaking his head.

“Lola knows the truth now, in retrospect, because they're after her. That's why she's on the run, and why we came here to get your take on where she might be hiding,” Charlie said. “Gordo, tell her our theory regarding where a really bright girl might lie low.”

Gordon quickly described their logic of a smart fugitive trying to avoid doing anything predictable. “It's what I call the ‘country girl in a pickup' theory,” he said with a grin, grabbing another cookie.

“That makes sense. But you know how many small communities there are within just a hundred miles of here? Lola could be anywhere,” Gina added.

Charlie shrugged. “That's the problem. If she figures that we, the cops, or Clarence Fasthorse have guessed her plan, she might just do the opposite. She did risk a visit with Mike the Pimp to pick up some extra cash.”

“How long ago was this?” Gina asked.

“It was last night, late, and we just found out about it less than two hours ago,” Gordon said.

“Better pass that along to Nancy and Detective DuPree. They have people scouring the metro trying to find Lola before the bad guys do,” Gina advised.

“I'll make the call,” Charlie said, standing and reaching for his phone as he walked across the room.

“Don't tell her where you got the information, bro,” Gordon advised. “If we rat out Mike the Pimp he'll quit helping us. And Lola trusts him more than she does the cops.”

“How does Nancy feel when you keep secrets from her?” Charlie asked, phone still in hand.

“Hates it. But I'm also bound by client privilege, so it's nothing new,” Gina said.

“But Lola's not your client,” Gordon reminded.

“But you guys are.”

“Good point,” Charlie said with a sigh. “I'll see how she reacts,” he added, bringing up Nancy's number on the display.

Five minutes later, Charlie ended the call and turned to Gina and Gordon, who'd remained beside the coffeepot, watching and listening as they drank the final dregs.

“Nancy sounded pissed,” Gordon said.

Gina shook her head. “No, when she's pissed, you don't hear any sounds at all. Trust me on this.”

“She's going to call DuPree now, and, at least she won't have to lie,” Charlie said.

“Think DuPree will figure it out?” Gordon asked.

Charlie shook his head. “He's going to track us down first. Hopefully, before he does that, we'll get in some sleep.”

“You don't want to stay until Nancy gets off duty? She'll be home in an hour,” Gina said, looking at the kitchen clock.

“Naw, we've got to work regular hours tomorrow and we need to stick close to the shop for a few days. We've been kicking at the ant den lately, and there's no telling how Fasthorse is going to react. He's already warned us off,” Charlie reminded.

“Don't forget trying to kill us,” Gordon said, grinning.

Gina looked at them with sad eyes, shook her head, then walked over and gave them both a big hug.

“What was that for?” Charlie asked. “Not that it wasn't nice.”

“Dammit, guys, the way you get into trouble, I never know if I've just hugged you for the last time.”

“We've got it under control, don't worry,” Charlie said, winking as he backed toward the door. “Ready, Gordo?”

Gordon nodded. “Like he said, Gina. Under control.”

Gina kept the porch light on as they walked over to the Charger.

 

Chapter Fourteen

Charlie woke up to a loud crash, and something heavy landed on the bed. Instantly awake, he sat up and turned on the lamp. The window had been broken, glass was everywhere, and there was a brick on the covers down by his feet.

“Crap,” he grumbled, reaching for the pistol underneath the other pillow. He started to stand, thought about the glass, and looked down for his slippers beside the bed.

As he slipped on the slippers he heard another crash toward the side of the house, and his car alarm go off. Cursing again, Charlie grabbed his car keys from the nightstand and ran into the living room.

Through the thin curtains of the front window he could see the taillights of a car racing away down the street, engine roaring and tires burning rubber.

He thumbed the button on his key fob and the car alarm shut off. Cringing at what he might see next, Charlie unlocked the inside door leading into the garage, opened it up, and reached for the light switch.

The garage window had been shattered, and there was the Charger, a sitting duck in the middle. Cringing, he circled around the back end of the car and walked along the side, expecting to find the passenger window broken, or worse, body damage. Pane glass was everywhere, crunching beneath his feet, but as he checked, he couldn't find any dents or damage to the car at all. There was no sign of whatever had come through the window.

Reaching the hood, he crouched and looked across the surface, wondering if a graze had scored the finish. Nothing. Maybe he'd gotten lucky this time. But what had set off the car alarm?

Circling around to the driver's side, he found a brick on the concrete floor about a foot from the front tire, and a scuff on the sidewall where the brick had apparently bounced off the tire, jarring the Charger and setting off the alarm. Looking up, he found a big dent in the garage wall about chest high where the brick had struck after flying through the garage window. “Yes!” he yelled aloud.

Hearing the sound of the phone inside the house, Charlie hurried back into the kitchen and grabbed the cordless landline receiver off the wall.

“Charlie, some asshole just threw a brick through my front window, just missing my TV,” Gordon announced. “Better watch out…”

“Too late, Gordon. At least I got lucky this time. They broke some glass and dented a wall, but they missed my Charger.”

“You parked your ride outside?”

“No, the bastard took out my garage window. The good news is that he threw too high and missed the car completely.”

“You got lucky, all right. That it?” Gordon asked.

Charlie shook his head. “No. They tossed the first brick through my bedroom window and it ended up on the bed. I almost took a brick in the leg.”

“I should've known you'd be more worried about your car than your carcass, Charlie. You'd probably take a boulder in the chest to stop anyone from scratching your Dodge.”

“True,” Charlie admitted. “But what about your pickup? It okay?”

“Yeah. Thank God my garage has no windows.”

“You sure that's all they did?” Charlie asked, walking into the bedroom, stepping around the glass and finding his cell phone.

“Yeah, I'm searching the place, phone in one hand, pistol in the other.”

“Me too,” Charlie replied. “You get a look at the rat bastards?”

“No, I just heard the sound of squealing tires and a racing engine. A pickup, based upon the noise. I never got a look. You?”

“Taillights—a dark sedan. That's it. We might as well call the cops and report this—for our insurance agents,” Charlie suggested.

“Your agent's gonna hate you by now. What is this, the third time someone's trashed your house or car?” Gordon asked.

“Yeah, and my rates are already sky-high from last year. I may decide to foot the window repair bill on my own. You know who did this,” Charlie added.

“Yeah, the Night Crew—Fasthorse's thugs. Thought they'd lie low for a while. I'm not going to take this lying down,” Gordon added softly.

“They need payback, but if we roust the restaurant and give his crew a beat down we could end up in jail, especially if some unconnected civilians join in. That would be bad for business—ours.”

“Got that right,” Gordon said. “How about a little tit for tat?”

“Good call. Maybe if something happens to our boy's blue SUV?” Charlie said, feeling a little better now.

Gordon chuckled. “You know, when dealing with animals, unless you discipline them immediately they don't learn the lesson. Right now, those suckers are probably crowing to each other about how they stuck it to us.”

“Get dressed, Gordo, grab a brick, and I'll pick you up in a half hour.”

“Naw, we'll take my truck. It's slightly less conspicuous than your purple hot rod.”

Charlie sighed. “Let's gear up. We can call to report the crimes while we're on our way to commit one.”

“You know we're going to catch hell when we die, trying to explain all this.”

“Yeah, but worry about that when it comes. Hopefully, it won't be tonight,” Charlie responded.

“God's ears,” Gordon said, then ended the call.

*   *   *

They drove toward Clarence Fasthorse's home, knowing the restaurant was closed at this hour but hoping to pick up the GPS signal from the bug they'd placed in the man's SUV. Charlie had loaded the app on his cell phone, but still hadn't been able to get a signal when they drove past Clarence's house.

“Nothing. No SUV, no GPS, no road noise from the mike,” Charlie reported, looking up from the phone display.

“Suppose they found the bug?” Gordon asked.

“That could have triggered the brick attack. Let's try the area around Rex's Auto. There are a lot of warehouses up Second Street from there,” Charlie suggested, deciding to do a visual search as well just in case Gordon was right and they'd lost their advantage.

“Yeah, with Rex's Auto compromised they've got to have a new place where they take their stolen cars,” Gordon pointed out. “Or, more likely, they already had an alternate stash location.”

Charlie nodded. “Yeah, they've been pretty smart. So far, Clarence's only weak spot is his temper. He has to strike back and we can use that against him. Ultimately, I think he'll lead us to whoever killed Cordell Buck.”

Gordon looked over, grinning. “I like it. We keep antagonizing the guy until he makes a fatal mistake. I'm getting close to Second Street, any hits on the GPS?”

“No. Wait, yes.” Charlie examined the simple street map on the display. “The SUV isn't moving, and is between Second and First, about halfway down the block between the cross streets of Willow and Rascon. From the position of the dot I think it's an alley,” Charlie reported. “We should be close enough to listen in now. I'm turning off the GPS and activating the bug.”