Beef Stolen-Off (26 page)

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Authors: Liz Lipperman

Tags: #General, #Women Sleuths, #Mystery & Detective, #Fiction

BOOK: Beef Stolen-Off
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Jordan sat in the nursing home parking lot, staring at the entrance. She’d rather be doing anything else, be anywhere else right now. What do you say to a woman who’s lost both her son and her husband in a matter of weeks? Jordan didn’t have a clue, but she did have a soft spot in her heart for the woman and wanted to comfort her in some way, even if it was only by being a familiar face.

From the moment Maria had grabbed her arm and mouthed “Help me” at Rusty’s memorial service, Jordan had made the decision to do what she could. Whatever Maria had been afraid of then couldn’t come close to what she must be feeling right now, facing a future more bleak than anything Jordan could imagine. It must be frustrating to want so desperately to communicate your thoughts and not be able to.

She switched her phone to vibrate. It would be awkward enough facing the poor woman, knowing there was nothing
she could do to help, without her phone blaring “Girls Just Want to Have Fun” in the middle of a tender moment.

With every horror story she’d ever heard about nursing homes playing in her brain, Jordan took a deep breath and slowly exhaled before opening the door. Expecting dingy gray walls and dreary-looking hallways reeking of urine, she found herself pleasantly surprised. A pale shade of blue decorated the walls and was complemented by window treatments adorned with little yellow flowers on a background of coordinating blue. She braved it and took a deep breath, delighted when the visual of a garden after a spring rain crossed her mind instead of a men’s room at a roadside park.

“May I help you?”

Jordan turned to find a smart-looking, middle-aged woman with a smile that matched the soft voice. “I’m looking for Maria Morales. I believe she came in yesterday.”

The smile disappeared. “She’s in room 104 down the hallway to the left. Since she’s arrived she’s been inconsolable, and nothing we do seems to help. Maybe you can comfort her.” She extended her hand. “I’m Sophia Bradley, the assistant administrator here.”

Jordan reached for her hand and shook it, immediately noticing the strong grip in direct contrast to the soft voice. “Jordan McAllister.”

Recognition flashed in the administrator’s eyes. “The Kitchen Kupboard’s Jordan McAllister?”

Jordan would never get used to people saying her name in the same breath as her column. “Guilty. I’m flattered you recognized the name.”

“The residents here love your recipes. Last week, the chef made the Beef Stroganoff, and now they’re insisting
we make it a weekly thing. We didn’t use that expensive cut of beef, of course. They love the Potato Chip Chicken dish, too.”

Jordan hoped her cheeks didn’t crack from smiling. Hearing things like this made her appreciate the opportunity she’d been given, even if she still yearned to be on the sidelines at sporting events. “I’ll share that with my boss.”

The administrator laughed. “No need. At least fifteen of the residents have personally telephoned the newspaper to rave about the column.”

“Let them know I appreciate that,” Jordan said, wondering why Egan had kept that little tidbit to himself. Then she smirked as it came to her. She knew exactly why the cheapskate hadn’t shared the compliments. God forbid if her fan base—or her head—got too big. Her editor might have to dip into the old piggy bank and bump her salary up a notch.

She smiled once again at the administrator, then headed down the hallway. Maria’s was the last room on the right. Hesitating only briefly, Jordan pushed through the door and saw Maria sitting by the window staring out. She didn’t even bother to look up when Jordan approached. It was heartbreaking to see the woman’s state and know how much pain she must be in.

“Maria?”

Startled, Maria jerked her body around. For a second, Jordan thought she saw a smile crinkle her eyes before she plunged her hand under the blanket on her lap. Pulling out a picture frame, Maria held it out to Jordan, pointing repeatedly to the photo it held.

Reaching for it, Jordan realized it was the same one she’d seen on the mantle when she’d visited Maria at home. It was also the photo that had upset Maria so much that
Diego had practically kicked her out of his house for asking about it.

“This is a lovely picture of you and Diego and your sister,” Jordan began cautiously.

Maria leaned forward and banged on the photo with her hand, all the while uttering sounds that could have been mistaken for the cry of an injured animal. With each thump on the glass, her voice escalated. It was obvious she was trying to convey something important, but for the life of her, Jordan couldn’t tell what.

She decided to get right to the reason she’d come all the way over to Connor in the first place. “I know you’re sad because Diego was killed. I’m sad, too, Maria, but this looks like a lovely place.”

Are you freakin’ kidding me? The woman has just lost her husband and her son, and here I am insinuating everything will be okay because the place didn’t stink.

Seriously!
It was like saying,
Too bad your world has just crumbled around you and everyone you love is gone, but hey, how about that nice firm mattress on your bed!

Somebody should write a book about stupid things
not
to say to a grieving person.

As if to emphasize how incredibly dumb her last statement had been, Maria violently shook her head from side to side, then pounded the picture again.

Jordan concentrated on the photo. “This is your sister, Gia, right?”

An excited look crossed Maria’s face as she nodded as aggressively as she had shaken her head minutes before.

“You must miss her, too.”

The older woman’s face took on a frantic look, and tears welled up in her eyes.

Great, Jordan. Your comforting skills are matched only by your cooking talents!

Maria grabbed the picture from her and shoved it back under the blanket. With one hand she spun the chair around and wheeled herself away from the window, totally dismissing Jordan.

Unable to make any sense of it, Jordan eased down into the chair beside the bed, hoping for some miracle that would help her figure out how to comfort the poor woman.

Fifteen minutes later, she decided that was not going to happen, at least not today. Discouraged, she walked over and gently touched Maria’s shoulder. “I’m going now, but I’ll come back to visit, if it’s all right with you.”

Hoping for some sign that she would be welcomed, Jordan was disappointed when there was none. Maria remained trancelike, humming to herself in a low mono-tone.

Feeling totally inadequate, Jordan walked to the door before turning one last time to try to communicate with Maria. When it was obvious the woman was in a world of her own and unaware—or uninterested—that anyone else was in the room, Jordan left, her heart heavier than when she’d arrived.

On the ride back to Ranchero, she felt her own tears forming, unable to stop thinking about Maria. Life wasn’t fair sometimes, and the woman she’d just left at the nursing home was a perfect example of how cruel it could be.

She was startled when her cell phone vibrated, and she figured it was Danny reminding her to pick up lunch on the way home.

Without looking at caller ID, she answered. “Hey, Danny, I should be home in about twenty minutes.”

“Jordan?”

It was a good thing she was stopped at a red light, or she might have swerved across the road at the sound of that voice. She glanced in her rearview mirror to make sure he wasn’t behind her before she spoke. “Where are you, Cooper?”

“That’s not important. I know you were at the warehouse the other night. You’re the only one who knows I didn’t kill anybody.”

She spied a Methodist church ahead and pulled into the empty lot. Without switching off the ignition, she scanned the surroundings, making sure Cooper hadn’t followed her.

Satisfied he was nowhere to be found, she relaxed a little. “I did see you, Cooper. I know you were stealing cows, but I saw nothing that convinces me you didn’t kill Diego and your friend.”

“I swear I didn’t. And you’re right, Johnny Lorenzo was my friend,” he interrupted. “We stole cows, yes, but that’s it. You have to believe me. Can you meet me somewhere, so I can prove it to you?”

“How stupid do you think I am?”

“I swear, Jordan. I may be a cattle thief, but I’m not a killer. I figure whoever killed Johnny and Diego was looking to put out my lights, too. That’s why I was running for my life when you saw me. Johnny must have gotten a look at Diego’s killer.”

“Tell that to Maria Morales,” she blurted, unable to hide her anger over the anguish he’d caused the woman. “You took away both Rusty and Diego.”

“Rusty? Why would you think I killed him? He was my bread-and-butter.”

“So he really was the brains behind the cattle-rustling ring?” Even as she said it, she didn’t want to believe her brother had been right all along.

“I wouldn’t call him the brains, but he was the one who came up with the idea right after the old woman had her stroke. It was the perfect setup with his father working at the plant on the weekends.”

Considering the astronomical cost of around-the-clock nursing care, it made sense, but it still didn’t explain why Cooper had murdered three people, and possibly four, if you counted the waiter from the Cattlemen’s Ball.

“If you’re innocent, why don’t you turn yourself in? Then you can clear your name once and for all. I could call my brother Danny and have him meet—”

“No,” he shouted. “No cops. I won’t be hanging around long enough to convince people I’m not guilty, anyway. This time tomorrow I’ll be in the wind, and you and your brother will never hear from me again. That’s why it’s so important that you meet me now.”

“So you can tie up all your loose ends and kill me, too?”

“You’re talking crazy, Jordan. Why would I kill you?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because I’m the only witness who can place you at the North Texas Beef Distributors on Friday night. The only one who can positively identify you as the guy running from the building after you killed Diego and Lorenzo.”

“You have it all wrong.” He paused. “Time’s running out, Jordan. Are you going to meet me or not?”

God help her, she was about to do something she hoped didn’t come with too high a price. “Where?”

“In the parking lot of Hearth and Home off Texoma Parkway.”

She glanced down at the clock on the dashboard. “It’s one thirty, and I’m in Connor right now. It will take me about thirty minutes to get there.”

A minute passed before Cooper responded. “If you’re not there by two, I’m gone.”

She heard the phone go dead and immediately dialed her brother.

After listening to her repeat the conversation with Cooper, Danny said, “Hurry up and get to the 7-Eleven just past the Connor-Ranchero border. I’ll meet you there and hop into the backseat.”

“Bring Ray,” she said, remembering the last time she went by herself to meet someone she thought might be dangerous. If nothing else, it had taught her never to be that stupid again.

“I’ll do more than that,” Danny responded. “I’ll bring the whole damned police force.”

“No,” she shouted. “He won’t show if he suspects the cops are nearby. He made that perfectly clear.”

“He’ll never even know they’re around. Just hustle and get to our meeting spot.”

Somehow, knowing the Ranchero Police Department was coming didn’t instill any confidence in her. Alex had once dubbed the two that had investigated the break-in at her apartment as Dumb and Dumber. She had to agree. But it was too late now to argue about it.

Just past the W
ELCOME TO
R
ANCHERO
sign, she saw the 7-Eleven up ahead and Danny and Ray standing beside Ray’s Suburban. They hurried to her car when she pulled in, even before she could come to a complete stop.

“Let’s go. We’ve only got seven minutes left,” Danny said.

When they were close to Hearth and Home, both Danny and Ray slumped down in the backseat.

“Do you see him, Jordan?” Ray asked.

She scanned the nearly full parking lot. “It’s packed. I’ll have to drive up and down the aisles.”

“Check out the ends closest to the highway first. I’m sure Cooper wouldn’t be comfortable jammed in between cars where he couldn’t make a quick escape.”

At that moment, Jordan saw a police cruiser pass by on the main road, followed by two others close behind.

So much for no cops allowed.

“I don’t see him.”

“Call him.”

Jordan pulled into an end slot and redialed the number Cooper had used earlier. She was immediately connected to voice mail. “Cooper, where are you? I’m waiting in the parking lot.” She disconnected and shrugged. “Now what?”

“Nothing to do but wait,” Danny said. “Got any food? I’m starving.”

“I’m sure you can find a few French fries on the floor.” Teasing her brother made her relax a little, and she leaned back into the headrest.

At three, after several more calls to his cell phone went unanswered, they decided Cooper was not going to show. Danny phoned Officer Rutherford and called off the operation.

“If I saw the cops, trust me, Cooper did, too. I told you not to get them involved, Danny. Now we may never find out anything.”

“You’re probably right, but there’s not much else we can do right now. We still have an APB out for him and his car. Asking you to meet him here might have been just a ruse to throw us off about where he is right now. That would give him more time to make his getaway. I’ll call the Border Patrol and have them on the lookout, just in case he isn’t
already in some villa drinking a margarita with some young senorita.”

Knowing Cooper might be long gone didn’t calm her fears, and she scanned the lot one last time before pulling out. “Now what happens to you? Will you hang around until they find Cooper and bring him in?”

“Probably not,” Danny answered. “It looks like the cattle theft ring has been shut down, at least for now, and my boss needs me back in Amarillo. I’ll let the police deal with chasing down Cooper and prosecuting him for murder.”

“We can’t let you go without a party,” Ray said, patting Danny’s back. “We’ll all miss you, kid.”

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