Give First Place to Murder (12 page)

"I remember all right. I was hoping you wouldn't. At least until lunch was over."

"Too bad. Well?"

"Did anyone ever tell you about curiosity and the cat?”

"Yes. This isn't curiosity. I found him. My daughter works with people who might somehow be connected to Rusty. I want to know if I should be worried. Now go on."

“
Murder is always something to worry about.”

“
You sound like a pompous police chief. Well?”

"All right.” He smiled a little. “Evidently this Rusty had quite a reputation among the local horse people." Dan's voice became thoughtful and the teasing look in his eyes faded. "Everyone either knew him or knew of him, and none of them would hire him."

“
Why? He must have known something about horses."

"Evidently. Everyone agrees he was good with them, but completely unreliable. It seems he’d be fine for a few days, but then he’d just disappear. They’d find the horses, no feed or water, stalls filthy, that kind of thing. I think some of these people would have forgiven him his drug habit, even his part time dealing and pilfering, if he’d never neglected the horses."

"So why did Bryce hire him?"

"Excellent question. One I asked our friend Bryce."

"And?"

"He says he didn't know a thing about Rusty's reputation. He had to have someone for this show, Rusty seemed to know what he was doing, so he hired him."

"Only you don't believe him."

"Every other horse person we talked to knew Rusty, or knew about him. Besides, Chovalo's nephew's been dead over a month. Seems enough time to have found someone. But having met Bryce, maybe not."

I could feel gooseflesh start up my arms and I didn’t think it had anything to do with the air conditioning. "You think there’s some connection between Bryce and Rusty. Some drug kind of connection. Don't you?"

This was one time I wanted Dan to scoff and tell me I had too much imagination. Instead he paused, took a sip of coffee, and kept looking serious.

"I don't know what to believe quite yet. You know Ellie, we, ah, my department, we sort of knew about Rusty."

The gooseflesh spread. "You already told us. About his record and everything." I watched Dan's face carefully. He was leading up to something, something he wasn't too happy about. I had a feeling it wasn't going to make me happy either.

"Right. His record. Actually, it's because of his record we knew about him. A while back the sheriff’s department asked us for a little help. We're all stretched pretty thin in this county, you know, and..."

"I know, I know. You tell me all the time. Exactly what kind of help and what does it have to do with Rusty?" I wanted to add, or Bryce? but couldn't get the words out.

"The sheriff’s drug task force is pretty sure Rusty was mixed up with the noble citizens responsible for manufacturing and moving methamphetamine. We'd been helping them keep an eye on him, hoping we could get a line on how and when the shipments were being made. Rusty wasn't too bright, and we were sure he'd slip up some way and we could spot his contact. Unfortunately, we weren't watching him closely enough."

Before I could say anything, Ruthie appeared. She slipped a beautiful plate full of salad in front of me, and a brimming platter of cholesterol in front of Dan.

I stared at his mountain of food and shook my head. "It's going to take more power than one poor little beer has to push all that through your veins."

"I may have to have a second one. Just to make sure." The teasing look was back in his eyes, and a satisfied smile on his face.

"Dan works hard. He needs to eat." This from toothpick thin Ruthie who was on her feet over twelve hours a day, who trotted God alone knew how many miles, lugging loaded trays, not to mention the coffee pot. Ruthie, who was a vegetarian. She patted him lightly on the back, gave me a conspiratorial grin, and trotted off.

I watched Dan's plate empty while I picked at my salad. “You didn’t answer me about Bryce. Do you think he has some connection with this drug thing? It that why he hired Rusty?”

The thought of flamboyant, flighty Bryce in league with real criminals didn't seem possible.

"It seems a stretch.” Dan mopped up the last of the gravy with a roll. “No, I think it’s more likely Rusty was his source."

"Source. Then you do think Bryce uses drugs.

“
I don’t think there’s much doubt,” was the not terribly reassuring reply.

"But you don't think Bryce killed him?"

"No. I don't."

"Then it had to be Rusty's suppliers or whatever they're called." An anonymous person who had no reason to come near anyone I knew, that was what I wanted.

"Maybe. Maybe not. I'm afraid it’s a little closer to home.”

"I don't think Stephanie would kill Rusty just because he was selling Bryce drugs. Would she?" Now that I thought about it, I could actually picture the scene. Rusty jeering at her, Stephanie losing her temper, picking up the pitchfork, threatening, Rusty daring her, Stephanie thrusting, then…

Dan watched me, one eyebrow slightly raised, eyes amused. "We can't rule it out. We can't rule anything out, but that’s not what I think happened."

"You're not thinking what I think you're thinking?" There was only one scenario left and it was not a welcome one.

Dan looked blank, so I tried again.

"You can't think it’s Chovalo?"

"I can, and I am."

"I don't believe it."

"You're letting Susannah's opinion color your judgment."

"I am not. There’s not one thing that points to Chovalo. Why, he's been with Irma for years, practically runs the ranch. She says she can't get along without him, and he's obviously devoted to her. Hardly the picture of a murderer."

"There are a few other things."

"Like?"

Dan speared the last piece of meat into his mouth before answering, evidently giving himself time to decide just how much he wanted to tell me.

"Rusty talked to one of the grooms across the barn aisle about the time everyone left to go watch Irma’s horse. Everyone but Chovalo. Rusty was killed between the time the groom left and all of you returned. No one else we can find saw anyone near Irma's stalls."

“
Not even the pirate?”

“
Not even the pirate.”

“
I can’t imagine Chovalo not watching that class.” I laid down my fork and stared at Dan, truly surprised. “It meant so much to all of them.”

“
He was there, on the rail. But he arrived just as the class was ending. The person who told us noticed because he couldn’t believe Chovalo would miss most of the class. Says all he talked about was how wonderful that colt was. Made us think.”

It made me think too, but I wasn't convinced. Not yet. "You'll have to do a lot better than that, Dan Dunham. People don't go around sticking pitchforks into other people without some reason. Chovalo didn't even know Rusty."

"Don't be so sure. Listen, there are a couple of reasons we’re looking at Chovalo Gutierrez." He held up his hand and pushed down the first finger. "First. He was in the right place at the right time. Second, and more important, Mr. Gutierrez has recently won a place on our select list of people to watch."

"What are you talking about?" I pushed my salad plate away and found myself sitting a little straighter in my chair.

"Chovalo has been keeping company with the bunch we suspect are manufacturing the methamphetamine, the same ones Rusty was working for, the group we've been trying to get enough evidence on to make an arrest.”

“
You’ve been spying on him! That’s not fair.”

“
It’s not spying. It’s watching. And it’s the guys making the stuff we’ve been watching, but we can't find out where, and we don't know how they’re moving it. All of a sudden, Chovalo turned up. We don't know what his connection is with them, but we're pretty sure they're not getting together to watch Monday night football. You know," Dan's tone got a little softer, "I'm sure Bud had a long term financial arrangement with Chovalo, and while he was alive, they were doing real well. Now Chovalo may be wondering, actually he's been talking, about his own future. Especially if Irma sells the hauling business. There may be no place for him on the ranch. She's already leased out one barn to Bryce, and then what does he do?"

"Irma would never let anything happen to Chovalo. There has to be some other explanation." I tried to think of one.

"Maybe. But all this started about the same time his nephew died. The kid died from an overdose. He got the stuff somewhere but as far as we could tell, he wasn't a user."

"You can't possibly think Chovalo had anything to do with his nephew's death?" This I absolutely didn’t believe. I didn’t really know Chovalo, but from what everyone said, what little I’d seen—no. Not possible.

"Not directly, I don't. But it's possible Rusty might have. Don't forget, Miguel worked for Bryce. We're pretty sure Bryce has a habit and has to supply it from somewhere, which brings us back to Rusty. And Chovalo. Chovalo has to know about Bryce's habit. We think he knew Rusty, knew he was a two-bit peddler, and knew Bryce was buying from him. So, why didn't he say something?"

"I don't understand. Why would Chovalo…?"

"Revenge. If he thought Rusty got Miguel started and gave him an overdose."

"Oh, I don’t think so." I shook my head emphatically. “If Chovalo thought that, he’d have gone straight to the police.”

"Would you go to the police if you were involved in drug peddling?"

"You don’t know he’s involved " I wished that had come out more convincingly. Dan’s case made a dreadful kind of sense, but I didn’t want it to be Chovalo, if for no other reason than it would devastate Irma. And, of course, Susannah.

"Oh, he's involved somehow.” Dan sounded as sad at the prospect as I felt. “Remember the fair? He was up to something. People don't creep around places with a flashlight unless they don't want to be seen creeping."

I didn't have an answer to that one, but suddenly something clicked. “It was the pirate.”

“
What?” De looked totally confused. “The pirate what?”

“
The pirate was around the barn when Rusty was killed. Or just after. Remember? I ran into him. And, Dan, think what a good disguise that costume would be for someone doing something illegal.”

Dan’s mouth opened and closed a couple of times. “Ellie, I’ve told you. The pirate’s a fair entertainer. We’ve checked. Forget him, will you? He’s not our problem.”

Dan sounded exasperated. Why, I wondered. Another question occurred. Why was Dan, the closed mouth cop, telling me all this?

"OK, Dan. What’s all this about? Usually dragging information out is harder than dragging a Scottie out of a rabbit hole. Why all this volunteering?"

I watched several emotions pass over his face. He had a reason, all right, and he didn’t think I was going to like it. He paused before answering, looked down at his empty plate, took a deep breath and finally said in a stern tone, "I want you to keep away from these people. Something is happening out there at Irma’s ranch, something already has, and I don't want you involved.”

I carefully set down my iced tea. "Involved? It's a little late isn't it? Did you forget Irma’s a client of mine? I like her. She's involved. Evidently a lot more than she realizes. Then there’s another tiny detail. I have a daughter working for "those people". She's involved, and if she's involved, so am I. What are you suggesting? That I walk away and ignore this?"

I was heating up pretty good and didn't mind at all that Dan was getting red in the face.

"Of course not. Keep your voice down. Everyone in this place is going to have a crick in their neck trying to hear what you’re saying."

"Let them. I can't believe you think I would turn my back on all this. Or is it some kind of police order?" My voice was lower, but dripping with sarcasm. I hoped.

"Ellie, for God’s sake. Look, I talked to Carl and he can use Susannah for the rest of the summer at his clinic. She can start tomorrow. I want her to quit working for Bryce and take Carl’s job, and I want you both to stay the hell away from Irma's place."

"So you and Carl have it all worked out. Is that what you were talking about last week in my back yard? Figuring out how to protect the little women, who we all know can’t possibly manage on their own?" I was furious. I was actually beyond fury. How could Dan, my friend, be such a jerk? What happened to discussion, to respect for my judgment, to faith in my ability to take care of my child, or myself? Or hadn't that ever been there?

"Did either of you talk this over with Pat?"

"No, but Neil..." Dan’s face had gotten quite red, and there was just a hint of embarrassment in his voice. But no apology.

"Neil!” I exploded. “Well, of course, you'd want his opinion."

"Ellie, will you please get off your liberated high horse and listen? I'm speaking as a policeman as well as a friend."

That was the one that blew the cork out of the bottle. "Liberated? From what? Evidently not from men who think I'm incapable of thought. Policeman, right. What are you going to do next, read me my rights?”