No One Else to Kill (Jim West Series) (3 page)

Bev and I talked for the next two hours.
 
She claimed to have a vagabond’s background:
married three times but not at the moment, no regular job, and never lived
anywhere in her life more than a couple of years. An only child of parents who
divorced shortly after her birth, she bounced between mom, dad, grandparents,
and even an aunt. When she got old enough, she soon made a mess of her adult
life.
 
I didn’t argue her point.
 
After trying not to hear about her three
years with a motorcycle gang and two years in Mexico as a missionary, I
successfully changed the topic to the hotel business.

She asked me about my life, a topic which I adroitly
avoided.
 
I did mention my dog, Chubbs,
left at home under the close watch of my neighbors’ children. That sufficed for
information about me.
 
She enjoyed
gossiping about other personalities on the staff and about rumors she had heard
concerning the lodge’s pending financial ruin.
 
Nice enough woman, and not bad to look at, but if I had had anything
else to do at all I would have left long ago.

I swallowed the last ounce of beer from my third glass and
looked around the hotel lobby.
 
No sign
of Stu, and for that matter I didn’t see anyone other than the hotel staff.

“Bev, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go see what happened
to my friend, Stu.”

“Sure, Jim.
Don’t be a stranger.”

I walked over to the reception desk and asked them if they
had a message for me.
 
They didn’t.
 
In fact, they hadn’t received any message
from a Mr. Winston.
 
I stepped out onto the
front porch.

The unseasonably warm afternoon fought its losing battle
with the cool evening air.
 
A man in
overalls carried rows of flowers around to the back of the building.
 
A small charter bus pulled into the parking
lot.
 
I watched for Stu to get off, but
didn’t see him in the gaggle of men and women who did.
 
They walked into the lodge laughing and
talking loudly while the driver struggled with the plethora of luggage and
rifle cases.

The hunters, I thought, and dialed Stu’s number on my cell
phone.
 
He answered on the third ring.

“Stu, where are you?”

“At home,” he paused. “Sorry, Jim, I went to the airport
but changed my mind at the last minute.
 
Just couldn’t motivate myself to get on the airplane.
 
Maybe some other time.”

“Hey man, this trip was for you.
 
Not me. You need to get out.
 
I know how you feel--”

“No you don’t.
 
Your
wife and kid didn’t die.”

Low blow, I thought.
 
He had no right to try to make me feel guilty.
 
I forced myself to count to ten, well, maybe
to three.

“You’re right Stu.
 
You take your time.
 
I’ll talk to
you later.”
 
I hung up.
 
“Damn,” I said to myself.

I looked around and leaned against the handrail.
 
I could hear the trees move with the breeze,
but everything else was silent.
 
I hadn’t
planned this trip and had always felt that I shouldn’t have let myself be
talked into it. In fact, I probably should’ve expected something like this.

Stu’s sister, Angie, had done all the arranging and arm
twisting. My ex and I had become friends with Stu and his wife, Serena, during
our Air Force assignment in D.C. They lived across the street from us.
 
Angie lived a few miles away in Fairfax,
Virginia.
 
At the time, both Stu and I
worked at the Pentagon.
 
For the two
years I lived there, we carpooled to work and became close friends.
 
Stu, a civil engineer, had the thankless job
of being the number two guy in charge of making sure that the Pentagon worked.
 
Not the people in it; that might have been an
impossible job at times.
 
Rather, his
office ensured the lights worked, the roof didn’t leak, and the toilets
flushed.
 
I couldn’t have handled it.

Angie spent a lot of time at Stu’s place, and as a result,
we had become friends. I hadn’t stayed in touch with either Stu or his sister
since my own divorce and was therefore surprised when the email from her
arrived on my computer about two months ago.

The email informed me of the accident that resulted in the
death of Stu’s wife and child.
 
A large
truck had run into their small car.
 
Stu
was at work when he got the call. Angie explained that Stu hadn’t been the same
since. I remember thinking, “Who would be?”
 
She said that he rarely went to work anymore and had lost at least
twenty pounds in the months since the accident.
 
She gave me his phone number and asked me to call him. She thought that
talking to me might help.

I wanted to ask how talking to me could help, and I didn’t
want to call him.
 
I felt sorry for him,
but I didn’t think my calling him would help. My email back to her expressed my
sympathy, and despite my feelings I said I would call.

Since then, I’d had three phone conversations with Stu,
two initiated by him.
 
I had also talked
to Angie twice.
 
She called both
times.
 
I hadn’t felt like my
conversations with Stu had been worthwhile, but she thought they had been.
 
She said he really needed to get away for a
few days, and that meant not only away from the D.C area, but from her and his
immediate circle of friends.

I remember wanting to ask, “What’s that got to do with
me?” I didn’t, and to my chagrin she told me anyway.

“Jim, Stu’s always wanted to go hiking in the
Rockies.
 
As you know, he’s done a lot of
it in the Appalachians, but has never been out west.
 
If I can talk him into making a trip out
there, just for a couple of days, would you meet him and go hiking with him?”

“He doesn’t seem to be interested in doing anything,
Angie.
 
What makes you think he would go
hiking with me?”

“He used to always talk about it, and I found this neat
lodge on the internet near Lake Katherine in the Pecos Wilderness Area.
 
You know, there in New Mexico. Just say
you’ll do it, and I’ll work on him.
 
He
likes you, and maybe he’ll agree to do it. Please?”

“Will you come, too?” I asked.
 
It slipped out before I could stop it.

“You do this for him, and me, and maybe next time I’ll
come out.”

She had me hooked.
 
I always had this unspoken thing for her.
 
I don’t think she knew it, nor would I have
wanted her to.
 
I was married back then,
and she had gone through husbands like Baskin Robbins goes through flavors.

“Okay, I’ll give it a shot.”

“It’ll have to be fairly short notice.
 
If he has time to dwell on the idea, he’ll
back out.
 
I understand you’re not
working now?”
 
I’m pretty sure that’s
what she said, but I heard “You don’t have a life now anyway.”

“Yeah, I guess I’m available anytime.”
 
Ouch.
 
I might as well put a big “L” on my forehead.

Her tone changed after hearing my response, “How are you
doing, Jim?”

“Fine.
 
Hey, I have another call,” I lied. “Let me
know what he says.” I hung up.
 
I didn’t
need her sympathy turned toward me.

he dining room opened at
five.
 
However, at quarter past, when I
entered, I had my choice of any table and chair in the place.
 
No one stood guard at the entrance to seat me
or to check to see if I had a reservation.
 
No one brought any water out to me. I wondered if I had misread the opening
time.

The place looked nice enough, just completely devoid of
life.
 
After waiting two or three
minutes, I walked back out to the reception desk to ensure they hadn’t closed
the dining room during the ongoing construction.
 
After being reassured it was open, I went
back to my table.

This time one of the serving staff showed up right
away.
 
The reception clerk had probably
warned them.
 
I ordered the small steak
and started a debate with myself whether to head back home tomorrow or to spend
a day hiking as planned.
 
With Stu now an
absentee, I wished I had brought along Chubbs, my faithful mutt.
 
He would enjoy a day walking through the
forest.

About the same time my meal arrived, a lone, older
gentleman walked in, looked around at the twenty or so tables, and picked the
one right next to me.

“Too shy to join me?”
I wanted to
ask but didn’t in case he thought I meant it.

“Beautiful day out there, don’t you think?” he asked me.

“Sure is,” I said and looked back at my steak.

He didn’t take the hint.
 
“Did you see the flowers outside on the windows?”

“Yes, quite colorful.”

“They must not be real.
 
They could never survive the cold.”

“That’s what I thought, but the hotel staff takes them
inside when it gets dark and only puts them out when the weather permits.”

“Nice touch.
 
Have
you been here for a while?”

“Just got in today.”

“Are you here for the hunting?” he asked.

“No, the hiking.”

“Great hunting here.
 
At least there was last year.”

I didn’t take the bait, but I did take a bite of my steak.

“Yeah, last year we came to check the place out.
 
Had a great time.
 
Where you from?”

“Clovis.”

“Been there.
 
Not much to do there.
 
What do you do?”

I had two choices.
 
While I would have liked to have eaten my meal in silence and then
return to my room, I decided not to fight the inevitable.

“I’m retired Air Force, name’s Jim West.”

“I’m Cross Benson; nice to meet you Jim.
 
Since we’re both alone, do you mind if I join
you?”
 
He stood up and started moving
before I could say anything. I motioned for him to sit across from me.
 
He sat in the chair next to me.

“Where are you in from, Cross?”

“El Paso.
 
We all
are. I run a commercial real estate enterprise.
 
The rest of the gang makes up most of my key staff.
 
A couple times a year, I like to get us away
from the office.”

“Probably a good idea.
 
I think I saw your group when you arrived.”

“You did.
 
You were
out front.
 
I remember you.
 
You aren’t here by yourself, are you?”

“Good question.
 
I
wasn’t supposed to be,” I said.

“Woman problems?”

I smiled.
 
“Not this
time.
 
The guy I was supposed to meet
here couldn’t make it.
 
Unfortunately, I
didn’t find out until after I arrived.”

“Hey, you’re welcome to join us.”

“Thanks, Cross, but I haven’t even made up my mind yet if
I’m staying tomorrow.”

The server came, brought Cross a glass of wine, and took
his order.
 
He ordered the big steak.

I took advantage of the break in conversation to eat some
more of my dinner.
 
I started to reach
for my glass of water when I realized Cross was taking a big gulp out of
it.
 
I looked over at his table and saw
his glass of water.
 
He must have thought
he brought the glass with him, but since I didn’t have anything else in front
of me to drink, it shouldn’t have been difficult for him to figure out the
water wasn’t his.

“If I remember right, this place has great food,” he said.