Dog Gone Lies (Pacheco & Chino Mysteries Book 1) (6 page)

Ray looked over at Tyee and it was like he was seeing a different person. He laughed. “Well, that’s something. I’m not sure I like this turn of events. I’d grown real fond of your Hollywood Indian ways.”

“Don’t worry, Ray. It’s still there when it’s needed—it’s become part of who I am. But I have to be careful—if some of my relatives from the rez saw my act they just might shoot me.”

“Well I guess that means Big Jack knows all about this charade?”

“Listen, the whole Big Jack persona is complete bullshit. Big Jack used to be a lawyer in L.A. Had his own drinking demons, along with women problems, and he was disbarred or something. Pulled up stakes and headed east. Stopped here for god knows what reason and stumbled into Big Jack’s place. Apparently he left L.A. with a pile of money—he offered the real Big Jack more money than the place was worth and presto he was suddenly Big Jack—never to be found by ex-wives or the IRS.”

“Fucking amazing. That’s hard to believe. He’s the perfect Big Jack and it’s all made up. I’ll be damned, I seem to be the only person who really is who they say they are.” This caused Ray to start a deep, genuine laugh—then Tyee joined in, and then Happy wagged his tail even harder.

“So who is Big Jack really?”

“No can tell, swore secrecy.”

This generated another round of laughter. Ray felt like he was part of a conspiracy—or maybe it was a family.

They pulled into the parking lot at the sheriff’s office.

“Hey Cindy. I got away a little early. Is Deputy Martinez available?”

“Oh hello, sheriff. Let me see.” Cindy seemed uneasy. She picked up the phone and pushed a button, then said something into the phone that Ray couldn’t hear.

“Sheriff said he’ll be with you in just a minute.”

“Thanks, Cindy.”

“In just a minute” turned out to be more like twenty minutes. Ray was annoyed because this felt like one-upmanship on Martinez’s part. He hated these kinds of games. He knew it went on in almost every human encounter, but it was still a waste of time and energy.

Martinez entered the room like he was running for political office and was there to greet voters: big smile, big handshake, big phony.

“Good morning sheriff. Glad you could come down and visit.” They shook hands, and Ray introduced Tyee. Martinez didn’t shake Tyee’s hand.

“The Indian can wait out here.”

“Tyee is with me. If you don’t want to meet with us, we’ll leave.” This was said in a voice that would make it clear to anyone, even a jerk like Martinez, that there was no room for discussion.

Martinez looked at Ray, then at Tyee. There was a dull look in his eyes, as if he didn’t really understand what was going on.

“Yeah, well come on back to my office.” He showed Ray and Tyee, along with Happy, into his small, cluttered office.

“So this must be the dog you found.”

“Probably more accurate to say he found me. Showed up in the evening three days ago. Let’s see—that would have been Saturday evening.”

Martinez continued, “We believe the dog belongs to a woman who was staying at the Hot Springs Inn Friday night. She apparently went missing on Saturday. The Inn called in a missing person report Saturday morning, but for some reason nothing was done until her ex-husband and the El Paso police called on Monday looking for information about her. Any chance you happen to know this woman, Monica Jackson?”

“Nope. Never heard of her. Was her car still at the Inn?”

“I’ll ask the questions, Mr. Pacheco.”

Okay, ask away asshole. Ray knew this guy was a jerk and probably didn’t have a clue about how to investigate a missing person, but he just shut up anyway and waited.

“Look Sheriff Pacheco, I didn’t mean to be rude. Her car was at the Firestone store getting some new tires. That’s why she was staying at the Inn—they had to have the tires brought up from El Paso. No doubt for some reason her dog was let out in your area on Saturday, the day she disappeared. We probably should have been on top of this earlier but one of my deputies, and Cindy out front, dropped the ball. At this point we have no evidence as to what happened with her, so we’re just asking questions to see if anything turns up.”

“Well, Deputy, I don’t know anything except what I’ve told you. Are you going to take the dog until this is resolved?”

“Actually, if you’re willing, it might be best if you could keep him until we either find the owner or have someone show up wanting to take possession—is that agreeable to you?”

“Sure, I suppose that’s okay with me.” Ray stood to leave. Martinez didn’t seem to be done.

“Since you’re living up here now, maybe you know we’re having a special election for sheriff—just wanted to make sure you knew I was running. It would be great to have your vote and support.” This was accompanied by what appeared to be a practiced smile that by all appearances was painful for Martinez to use.

“I’d heard about the special election but I’m not real familiar with the candidates. I’ll look into it and see who should get my support. Thanks for your time, Deputy.”

Ray had previously had no interest in who became sheriff of Sierra County, but he did now—pretty much anyone but this guy. As they left, he could tell that Cindy had been crying—no doubt after a good reprimand by Martinez. Ray guessed it was because she’d failed to create a report about Ray reporting the dog he had found. While he felt sorry for Cindy, having to deal with such a pompous ass, it was one of the basics of law enforcement to make sure information was reported and shared.

As they neared the Jeep another Deputy approached Ray.

“Hi, I’m Deputy Clayton. I know you’ve been in talking to Deputy Martinez about the Jackson woman and I just wanted to let you know that I met the woman and there was a threat made against her on Friday.”

“Deputy Clayton, nice to meet you. Actually, weren’t you part of a joint task force between Sierra and Dona Ana counties a few years ago?”

“Yeah, I was Sheriff Pacheco. I really learned a lot on that task force.”

“I’d ask you what’s going on but I have a feeling Deputy Martinez wouldn’t like you talking to me.”

“No, he wouldn’t. But I don’t give a shit what he likes. I’m running against him for the sheriff’s job. In a month or so I’m either the sheriff—not very likely—or I’m fired, which is way more likely. He can’t fire me now because it’s against county ordinances as long as I’m his opponent. But I’m gone as soon as he’s elected. So I’m more than pleased to talk to you about this matter with Ms. Jackson.”

“You sound a little defeatist about the election—is Martinez that popular?”

“Not with anyone who works with him—he’s one-hundred percent asshole, maybe even a little more. Has been since he became a deputy. Sheriff Hermes ignored all of the complaints about Martinez because his father’s the mayor. That’s also why I have no hope of being elected sheriff—his father has all of the political pull and influence to convince people to elect his son—and those people don’t want to make an enemy of the mayor.”

“Should go after people vote. Let assholes vote for asshole.” This was Tyee in his most Indian-wisdom-conquers-all manner.

“Deputy, this is my friend Tyee Chino.” There was a slight smile when Ray described Tyee as his friend.

The Deputy nodded towards Tyee. “What do you mean people vote?”

“Lots of people live around the lake and not in T or C who are eligible to vote for county sheriff and don’t care about small town politics—my guess is that they outnumber townspeople about three to one—if me, I would seek that vote.”

The deputy was obviously open to suggestions. They stood around and talked some more about the election. Ray was wondering how he could help this young deputy defeat Martinez.

“Deputy, would you be available to meet this evening at Big Jack’s to talk about strategy for your election?”

“My god, sheriff, does that mean you’d help me?”

“That’s exactly what it means.”

They agreed to meet at eight at Big Jack’s. Now Ray just had to tell Big Jack about the meeting—the one that would be at
his
place.

“Deputy, you mentioned earlier that the Jackson woman had been threatened—what was that about?” Ray asked.

Clayton told Ray everything he knew, including the contents of the threatening note. He said the woman hadn’t seemed all that worried and had assumed it was some kind of mistake. Clayton’s impression was the exact opposite: he thought the note and the tire slashing were definitely directed at Ms. Jackson. The deputy also thought that whoever left the note and slashed her tires was behind her disappearance, but he said that Martinez had basically instructed everyone to just drop it unless something new happened.

Clayton told Ray that Jackson’s car was still at the Firestone store and that her belongings had been left in her room at the Inn. No one at the Inn had seen anything suspicious Friday or Saturday. She was supposed to get her car that morning and the Inn staff was going to drive her to the Firestone store. Around nine they had called her room and there was no answer. They waited until about 9:30 to try again—then got worried when she didn’t answer. They opened her room and discovered she was gone.

The Inn called the sheriff’s office and Clayton had gone there to investigate. He’d found nothing—no evidence of a forced entry or a struggle—she was just gone.

“Thanks, Deputy. Sounds like there are a lot of loose ends on this case. Guess your sheriff isn’t going to do much of anything except blame other people for screwing up. If you can do it without getting in trouble, keep me informed.”

Ray and Tyee headed back to the car.

“Do you think we can help Clayton become sheriff?” Ray asked Tyee.

“I do, Ray. Obviously you have all of the experience of running for sheriff, you know what he should talk about in meetings and things like that. What I can do is get a list of all of the eligible voters in the county. Then we can figure out how to meet with as many of them as possible and ask for their vote.”

“How can you get a list of voters?”

“Couple of ways. One, public information is available as to who’s registered—so we can request that. I think the big thing is that we need to get people to register who haven’t before. That information we’ll have to resource ourselves. I’ve got some computers and modems that are still functional-- if I can hook them up, maybe in a back room at Big Jack’s with access to his phone line—I think you might be amazed at what I can uncover.”

“I seem to remember that the turn-out for Sierra County elections was incredibly small. I bet the election’s decided by fewer than a couple hundred votes. If we could get some of the non-town county citizens to become active Clayton might win in a landslide.” Ray was getting excited.

Big Jack was excited, too. He allowed how he’d love to beat that asshole Martinez and his crooked old man. He agreed that his store could be campaign headquarters and Tyee could hook up anything he wanted. Clayton showed up and was impressed with the ideas and plans that Ray, Tyee, and Big Jack had devised. Time was short, so they agreed to meet again on Thursday evening.

Wednesday

Ray woke up energized. The discussion of the election and the possibility of putting a good guy in office instead of a jerk made his blood flow a little faster. He wasn’t a do-gooder, he was a practical man and thought people should mostly be allowed to do as they saw fit—unless, of course, it harmed other people. People like the Martinez family, who used cronyism to make other people miserable, got Ray fired up.

Ray let Happy out for his morning business. He was sure that once something was discovered about Ms. Jackson’s disappearance that someone would be along to claim the dog. It had only been a few days, but he had to admit he was going to miss him. He wouldn’t get anywhere worrying about what might happen, though, so he concentrated on what he could do to maybe unravel the mystery of Ms. Jackson. After getting dressed, he decided he would go visit the Hot Springs Inn. He doubted much would come of it, but maybe there would be something he could learn.

Happy took his now familiar spot in the back of the Jeep and went to sleep. Ray hadn’t been around many dogs, and he was astounded by the number of little naps they took during the day. As he approached the Inn, he recalled a few visits he and his wife had made to enjoy the healing waters. He liked the place a lot and was somewhat surprised that they were not doing better business. There were very few cars in the lot.

Ray entered and went to the registration desk.

“Hello sir, may I help you?”

“Hi. My name is Ray Pacheco—used to be sheriff down in Dona Ana County.”

“Well sure, sheriff, I remember you. You and your wife have stayed with us a couple times. Nice to see you.”

“Thanks—we always enjoyed our stays here. I’m no longer sheriff, I retired, so this maybe a little out of line. I was wondering if I could ask you some questions about Ms. Jackson, the lady that disappeared.”

“It’s great with me. Our sheriff has decided to do nothing, apparently. What can I tell you?”

“Just tell me what you know about her checking in and if you saw her at all after that.”

“She was a very nice lady and she had a dog—wait a minute, that’s the same dog with you.”