No One Else to Kill (Jim West Series) (24 page)

“Yep,” he said shaking his head.

“Can’t blame them,” Bev whispered to me as we walked
toward the bar.

“But it’s too bad. The notoriety will probably hurt
business for a while.”

The front door of the lodge opened behind us and three
people walked in.
 
One had a big camera
strapped around his neck. One of the others, the sole female, carried an
iPad
or one of its clones.

“Or maybe not,” I said.

“What?”

“That may be the press.”

We both watched from the bar as the trio checked into the
lodge. The one with the camera began sweeping the interior with his
camera.
 
I turned around.
 
I had no desire to get my face on local, or
worse yet, national television.

A moment later, Bev realized what the cameraman was
doing.
 
“Oh, I think that man is videoing
the lodge.”
 
She looked over at me.
 
“That’s why you turned around.
 
You knew it didn’t you?”

I nodded.

“Why didn’t you warn me?”

“You look great.
 
If
it gets on TV, you should charge Rick for the business you bring in.”

“I’m not sure if that was a compliment or not,” she said.

I didn’t have to explain myself because the trio grabbed a
table next to the bar and asked for some drinks.

I took advantage of the mirror to watch Bev talk to them
for a while before going to fetch their beverages.
 
After she left, the one with the tablet typed
in some notes. The other two reviewed something on the camera screen.
 
I assumed they were looking at the video they
had just taken of the inside of the lodge.
 
More than likely they had also taken some of the outside, despite the
darkness. They also spread four or five sheets of paper out on their table.

Bev returned to their table with their drinks: two glasses
of red wine and a mixed drink of some sort. They talked to Bev some more and
held up a sheet of paper for Bev to look at.
 
She nodded at them about something before leaving.
 
Rather than come directly back to me to talk
she fiddled around cleaning a counter that already looked clean and moved a
bottle or two from one shelf to another.
 
Then, like it was an afterthought, she walked over to me.

“They are the press,” she whispered to me. “They wanted to
know what I knew about the two murders, except they weren’t sure yet if the
second was a suicide or a murder.
 
I
guess the Sheriff hasn’t released a definitive answer yet.”

I felt like asking her why she was whispering, but instead
found myself whispering back at her.
 
“What was on the sheet they showed you?”

“That was the most interesting part.
 
They showed me an old press clipping about
Sean
Bettes
and the poor young woman whom he was
suspected of killing.”

“I’m sure that they would love to find a connection with
the recent deaths.”

“I think they think that they already have, Sean
Bettes
.”

“Yeah, I forget.
 
They don’t need the truth. They can create any link they want to and
make the story as juicy as they can.”

“Poor, Sean, and I don’t even know the guy.
 
They can really smear him again.”

“Not good for his long overdue recovery.”

I don’t think she followed me.
 
“Should we warn him that they are here?” she
asked.

“It would probably be a nice thing to do, but they are
watching us at the moment.
 
Let’s wait a
while.”

Vic walked into the bar.
 
Rather than come to the counter, he took a table not far from the press
contingent.
 
He didn’t pay them any
attention, but they watched him closely.

Bev went out to see what he wanted to drink and ended up
talking to him.
 
I could tell she warned
him about the press because his eyes went instantly to them.
 
They talked some more before she returned and
grabbed him a glass of wine.
 
After she
dropped off the wine, Bev returned to me.

“He’s checked out and is leaving tonight.
 
He said he’ll find a place in Santa Fe for
the night.
 
Guess I can’t blame him.”

“Is his wife going with him?”

“I assume so.”
 
She
looked at me like she was trying to read my mind.
 
“Why are you interested?”

“I know she wanted to leave tomorrow with the rest of her
group.
 
I guess she sees it as a final
show of cohesion before they go back to El Paso, and their group probably falls
apart for good.”

“He said he was fed up with everything going on.”

“I wonder why he’s hanging around
then?
”

“He’s probably waiting for his wife, maybe she decided to
go with him after all.”

“Could be, but she was pretty adamant this afternoon.”

“Think he could be the killer?”

“Definitely possible.
 
He’s on the short list, but that’s a no
brainer.”

“Maybe for you,” she said.
 
“How about his wife?”

“Possible, but not likely.”

“Not on your short list?”

“No.”

“How about me?” she asked.
 
Her eyes had a little twinkle in them.

“You’re on my list, too.”

She looked at me surprised.

“Just a different list,” I said.
 
This time it was my turn to smile.

She reached out and squeezed my hand.

“You know, I think I need to leave this place.”

The sound of the female reporter striking up a
conversation with Vic gave me an excuse to turn my head toward them and, at the
same time, change the topic.
 
The
reporter held out a sheet of paper for Vic to review. Suddenly, Vic got
agitated.

“I think that guy is here now!
 
Did he do this?”
 
He spoke loud enough for the whole room to
hear him.

“She must have shown him the page about Sean
Bettes
,” Bev whispered to me.

“I think you’re right.”

“If the police know this, why haven’t they arrested him?”
Vic asked the reporter.

The woman answered him in a softer voice. I couldn’t catch
what she said.

Unfortunately, Vic looked up at me and pointed the
reporters in my direction.

“Talk to that guy.
 
He knows more about this than the rest of us do, if he’s not involved.”

All three turned their heads toward me.

“I don’t really know anything at all,” I said.

“Would you mind answering a few questions for us?”
 
The question came from one of the male
reporters.
 
The one
with the red wine.

“How about tomorrow afternoon?
 
I have a few things I need to take care of
this evening.”

“One o’clock tomorrow?”

“Sure.”

“Right here?”

“Yeah,” I said, “right here.”

“You aren’t going to be here tomorrow, are you?”
 
Bev whispered again.

“No.”

I looked over at Vic and the female reporter.
 
She had taken a seat next to him, and he was
talking up a storm with her.

“Wonder what he can be telling her?” Bev asked.

“Who knows?”
 
But I
was wondering, too.
 
Nothing he said
would do his wife’s company any good.
 
The notoriety of being implicated in a series of murders rarely does a
business that needs customers any good.
 
It could be particularly damaging if he started speculating why the
murders occurred and who might have been involved.
 
Of course, I knew that Vic might not be
telling them anything about the murders.
 
It was just as possible that he would take this opportunity to rant
about the police harassing them.

“I don’t like that guy,” she said.

“I don’t either.” I didn’t elaborate that I really didn’t
care for any of the guys in the hunting group.
 
While Vic wasn’t part of the foursome that ran me off the steps out
front, I still considered him one of them and Geri’s comments only reinforced
my dislike.

Harv
entered the bar, saw me,
and walked over to me.

“Hey, I want to apologize for what happened out there
today.” He motioned with his head toward the front of the lodge.
 
“I thought it was stupid at the time that we
wouldn’t budge, and I certainly didn’t know that Aaron was going to knock you
over.”

“What?” Bev asked.

“Nothing,” I said to Bev. Childishly, I felt embarrassed
that she had learned what had happened to me.

In some male egotistic way,
Harv
must have sensed my feelings and didn’t elaborate. “Anyway,” he continued, “I’m
sorry.”
 
He held out his right hand, and
I shook it.

“No problem, man, I’ve been through a lot worst.”

“Can I buy you another beer?” he asked.

“Oh, no thanks, I’ve had plenty.
 
Besides, see that trio over there.” I pointed
to our visiting press contingent.
 
“They’re with the press, and I really don’t want to talk to them.”

“The press?
 
I guess that makes sense. I don’t want to
talk to them either. Take care,”
Harv
said and walked
off.

“What was he referring to?”

“I had a small confrontation outside with the four of them
earlier today. It was really nothing.”

I don’t know if I satisfied Bev’s curiosity, but she
didn’t pursue the topic any further.

“This should get interesting,” she said.

I looked behind me and saw Sean
Bettes
approaching me.

“Hey Jim,” he said.
 
He looked like he didn’t have a care in the world.

“How’re you doing?”

“Okay,” he said. “Can I have a Coke?” his question
directed at Bev.

“Of course.”

“Sean,” I said in a low voice, “that group right there is
with the press.
 
They have an old article
about you.”

“Oh,” some of the color disappeared from his face.

“That’s the guy you want to talk to!” Vic shouted from his
table.

All three members of the press team turned and stared at
Sean.

I felt he might take off in a run again, so I gently
grabbed the back of his arm.

“Let’s just leave,” I said to him.

“Okay.”

“Can we have a word?” The female arrived quickest.
 
We had barely taken a step.

“Later,” I said.
 
“Tomorrow, like I told
you,
and only if you
don’t bother us ahead of time.”

“How about you, Mr.
Bettes
?” her
eyes stared right at Sean.
 
“Are you
going to let him do all the talking for you?”

“I have nothing to say.”

We started walking off.

“Mr.
Bettes
! Are the two deaths
here at the lodge related to the woman who died fifteen years ago?
 
You know whom I’m talking about, don’t you
Bettes
?”

Sean didn’t respond.
 
We walked out the front door of the lodge.

he evening air seemed a little
warmer than normal, even warmer than just a few hours earlier.

“I think it’s going to rain,” Sean said.

In the darkness I wondered how he knew.
 
Of course, he may have just seen a weather
report on the television.

“When are you leaving?” I asked.

“In the morning.”

“Think you can evade the press until then?”

“I’ll do my best.”

Something large and dark flew overhead.
 
I wondered if any owls lived up here.

“Actually, this has been a good trip for me,” he
said.
 
“I know that may sound bad, and I
do feel sorry for the two people who died.
 
I only mean that for me it’s been a good trip.
 
I didn’t anticipate for one second that it
would be, but it has. The first day was very emotional.
 
It brought back a lot of little things I had
forgotten. Then to be here when another murder occurs, to be questioned again
by the police, and later, when I found you and that poor woman.
 
You were trying so hard to save her. It’s
like Colt had created some type of immersion therapy that he tossed me into. ”