Dog Gone Lies (Pacheco & Chino Mysteries Book 1) (8 page)

“Hello, you must be Ray Pacheco. Sorry to just drop in on you, but they said you didn’t have a phone. My name’s Mike Jackson, from Albuquerque. I’m the ex-husband of Monica Jackson—the lady who disappeared from the Hot Springs Inn.”

“Hello, Mr. Jackson. I’m Ray Pacheco, and dropping in is just fine. Sorry about the condition of the roads, but this is a remote part of the county and they don’t get a lot upkeep. How can I help you?” Ray was concerned about the man—he looked very tired, or possibly ill.

“Please call me Mike.”

“Okay Mike, and call me Ray.”

About this time, Happy came up and greeted Mike like a long lost friend. Mike was pleased to see Happy, too, and gave him a good rubdown, which prompted a great deal of tail wagging.

“It’s great that Bruce is looking so good. They told me at the sheriff’s office that you had him. This is wonderful, I was so worried about him.” Greeting the dog had added much-needed energy to Mike’s demeanor.

“Are you here to get the dog?”

“I don’t think so, Ray. Mostly I’m here to ask for your help. I called the sheriff’s office numerous times and talked to Sheriff Martinez several times. To be blunt, I don’t think they know what they’re doing. The sheriff has even gotten to the point of telling me not to call anymore. Well, at that point I decided to head down here and see what the hell was going on. I met with the sheriff this morning and he as much as told me that I was wasting his time and if I didn’t like it, tough shit. He’s one rude person.”

“Yeah, I’m afraid our sheriff’s in over his head a little. But Mike I have to tell you I’m not real sure what he could do—other than be more polite.”

“I kind of guessed that—even though he was being all self-important what I sensed was that they didn’t have any leads and didn’t know what to do next. Well, I had a chance to chat with Deputy Clayton, who seems like a very nice young man, and he said he thought my best hope of finding something was you.”

“Not sure about that, Mike. I guess someone told you my story. The ex-sheriff from Dona Ana County who moved up here some months ago to retire. I have absolutely no authority to interfere with the sheriff’s investigation and no desire to do so. I was curious to some extent because of the dog, so I stepped into the fire a little and asked some questions. But it’s the sheriff who has the responsibility and the authority to find out what happened to your ex-wife.”

“Look Ray, I can see the political mine fields lying all around here. And of course I don’t care—all I want is to find my ex-wife and make sure she’s okay. We’re divorced, but we’re good friends and I’m terribly worried about her. Is there any way I could hire you to conduct a private investigation with me as your client. I don’t have tons of money, but I can afford to pay for a few weeks of investigation if you’ll do that.”

“Mike, I’m just a private citizen. I’m not a private investigator. Plus, I’ve already butted heads with the sheriff—he wouldn’t cooperate with me now no matter how I approached him. I think your best bet might be to contact the El Paso police department and see if you could get them interested.”

“I have called them, and they said there was no evidence that Monica was in El Paso. Everything they had learned said she disappeared from T or C and I should contact the sheriff there.”

“Well, I sure understand your frustration with the sheriff. One of the hardest parts of being in law enforcement is dealing with the families and their concerns. Many times there are no answers and that can be very difficult to accept.”

“Well, Ray, you know that as much as anything else you want the people in charge to show that they care. I’m afraid the T or C sheriff’s office hasn’t done a very good job of that.”

“I know it’s very difficult.” Ray filled Mike in on what he’d learned and what he suspected might have happened, with someone taking Monica and the dog from the parking lot in the early hours Saturday morning. He feared that the dog had escaped in the area of his cabin when something happened—either an accident or maybe murder—although he had no evidence apart from the fact that Happy, or Bruce, had showed up at his cabin.

Ray showed Mike into the cabin and fixed some coffee. Mike was obviously dealing with some health problems and almost fell into the chair. They drank their coffee and continued to talk about what might have happened to Monica. The afternoon wore on, and Mike gave no indication of leaving.

“Mike, I’ve got a meeting I’m going to in an hour or so. Would you like to stay here this evening? There’s an extra bedroom and it wouldn’t be a problem for me. You’re looking a little tired and I thought it might be difficult getting back to T or C in the dark. What do you say?”

“Oh, thanks Ray. That’s so kind. I am a bit tired. My health hasn’t been real good lately and I tire so easily. I don’t want to be a burden, but at this point I’m not sure I could drive back, so thank you very much. By the way, you asked if I was here about the dog. If Monica was here, I bet she’d ask you to keep him if you wanted to, and I’d offer him to you as part of your fee if you decide to discover what happened to Monica.”

Ray showed Mike the spare room and the extra bathroom, told him to make himself at home, and said he’d leave Happy there while he went out for a little while. Regarding his taking on the investigation, he told Mike that he would think about it and they could talk again. Ray made sure Mike was comfortable and secure, then headed to Big Jack’s.

The meeting of the Clayton campaign was attended by Deputy Clayton and his wife, Ann, Cindy from the office, her boyfriend Sam, Tyler Boyd, who was a clerk in the mayor’s office, Ray, Tyee, and Big Jack. Clayton made a few remarks about how much he appreciated everyone trying to help. Ray stood after Clayton and spelled out the challenge. It boiled down to getting people who weren’t usually involved in county politics to register and vote. The plan was simple. Tyee would identify people who were registered, as well as residents who hadn’t registered. They would hold meetings for the non-registered residents and try to get them to register. Ray went on to explain that the approach that he thought would work best for Clayton would be straight talk about the nepotism and cronyism that existed between the sheriff’s office and the mayor’s office. Clayton would spell out the things he would do differently to run an honest sheriff’s department that would treat everyone equally. No one cheered, but there was a lot of head nodding—it looked like a consensus.

Tyee stood up and, in a commanding voice, explained how he had developed the lists and how he thought they should be used. He thought it would be better to have more meetings with fewer people as opposed to large events. Everyone seemed to agree. The lists were divided up, and everyone went to work trying to develop the ideal list of people to invite to the meetings. They ended up with twenty-two lists of about 150 people. Their plan became clearer with the goal of having twenty-two events, inviting the 150 people from the lists. They decided that Big Jack would host eleven meetings and Ray would host eleven. As they worked into the night, the overall strategy started to take shape. They would need materials to hand out, and people to do a solicitation campaign by telephone and door-to-door. The entire group became energized, with people suggesting others who they thought would want to join to help organize the meetings. Big Jack suggested that some of the meetings should be barbeques, and everyone was enthusiastic in theory, but it was clear that it was going to cost a lot. Big Jack said fuck the cost, he would pay, and on that profane and uplifting note the meeting was adjourned.

As the group was breaking up, Tyee signaled to Ray that they should talk.

“Thought the meeting went well. Really looking forward to seeing if we can make a difference. Just wanted to let you know that two of the Ms. Jackson’s numbers were fairly easy to identify. One was her ex-husband in Albuquerque—a guy named Mike Jackson. The other was to the Camino Real El Paso Hotel. I checked it out and found that was where the dog show was held. I can’t tell if she called someone in particular or just called the hotel. The other partial number I’m still working on.”

“Let me tell you something Tyee. The stuff you’ve put together for Clayton is terrific. I have no idea if we can change anything or not, but I’m happy that we’re trying. The call to Mike Jackson doesn’t surprise me. He’s actually at my cabin as we speak. Just showed up out of the blue wondering if he could hire me to find his ex-wife. They’re apparently good friends and he’s very worried. I’ll need to ask him about the call, but I’d say he’s not a suspect. The other one I’ll follow up on and see what I can learn.”

“Did her ex-husband hire you?”

“I said no. Mostly because I’m not sure what he’d hire me as—a PI, or just some guy checking stuff out? Plus, I’ve got fishing duties to fulfill.”

Ray said his goodbyes and headed out. He thought about all of the things that were going on in his world and started to chuckle. This wasn’t how he’d envisioned retirement in the backwoods.

Friday

Ray and Mike enjoyed a simple breakfast of coffee with toast and Welch’s grape jelly. Why the simple things tasted the best wasn’t a mystery to Ray—they just
were
the best—no mystery.

At this point in the morning Ray hadn’t planned his day. He wasn’t fishing today, so it felt like he should do something to help learn more about Monica’s disappearance. He was reluctant to bring that up with Mike because he was concerned that Mike might take it as an implied agreement to be hired as an investigator. “Ray, I want to thank you for your hospitality last night. It was very kind—not sure I could’ve made it back to town. I was exhausted. This morning I feel much better. I think I’ll head back to Albuquerque today so I can check on the rest of Monica’s dogs. Our oldest son was supposed to have done that yesterday and today, but sometimes he’s not very reliable.” Mike had a pained expression on his face when as he talked about his oldest son.

“Also Ray, if there’s any way you could help with this matter with Monica, it would be great. I know this isn’t your business and there’s no particular reason for you to do it, but I have nowhere else to turn. If you don’t push this, I think the sheriff will just let it drop.”

“Mike, I think it’s good that you head back to Albuquerque. You’re just going to wear yourself out waiting around here for something to happen. I’m going to look into this for my own reasons. Not ready to be hired as a PI for many reasons, so let’s just say I’ll do this based on our new friendship.”

Ray could see that his words had an emotional impact on Mike.

“That’s wonderful Ray. I really appreciate it—you really don’t know how much.” He seemed on the verge of tears.

Ray needed to change the subject before he broke down too. He said that Mike should get his stuff together and get on the road before the day got too old. They shook hands, and both men seem pleased to have found a new friend. After Mike packed and gave Happy a good rub, he headed toward his car.

“If anything comes up, you have my contact information. I also left information on two of my sons who are living in Albuquerque, it’s on your kitchen table. If something does happen and you aren’t able to get ahold of me, please give them a call. Thanks again, Ray, for everything.”

Mike got into his car and started the bumpy ride down the so-called road.

Ray decided to head over to Big Jack’s with Happy and see if Tyee was around or if anything was going on in general. When he pulled up in front of the store, he was surprised to see a lot of cars. It was almost noon and this usually wasn’t a very busy time for Big Jack. Ray went into the store and could see several people milling about. He didn’t see Big Jack or Tyee. He looked out back and still didn’t see them. One of the people who’d been standing around came over.

“Are you a local?”

Ray was about to say no—when he realized he was. “Yes, sir. My name is Ray. Is there something I could help you with?”

“Well, we’ve been here quite a while and nobody’s shown up to help us. Just wondering if maybe this is some sort of crazy honor system or something?”

“Pretty sure Big Jack hasn’t implemented an honor system. Let me look in the back, maybe he got busy on something and just lost track of time. If I can’t find him I’ll come back and help you myself.” Although Ray wasn’t sure he knew how the antique cash register worked, he figured he needed to reassure the customer. He let Happy out onto the dock so he could find his favorite spot and begin his afternoon nap, then headed to the only place Big Jack and Tyee could be: the new computer room. Ray opened the door and saw them both, engrossed in something on the computer screen.

“Big Jack, you’ve got a store full of customers who are threatening to clean the place out.”

Big Jack looked up with a smile. “Doubt very much anyone could clean out that store, at least not anytime soon. Thanks Ray, guess I lost track of time. I’ll go out and see how I can help them.”

“What was so interesting on the computer?”

“Just confirmation of what we were saying about the numbers. There are almost three times the number of non-townspeople to townspeople. I think this gives Clayton a very good chance of winning. Also we were wondering if we could get enough invites out to have a barbeque on Sunday. What do you think—free food and beer on Sunday afternoon?”