Adios Angel Read online

  Helen held up a cassette tape for the sheriff. She handed it to him without saying a word.

  “Make a copy and give it to Deputy Steele. I’m sure she is going to want Principal Newlin to see if she recognizes the voice.”

  “Here.” She handed the sheriff a duplicate. “I listened to it again myself. Sheriff, it sounds like someone much older than a high school student.”

  “That’s all I need, an adult with the brain of a juvenile.”

  “Criminals are like relatives,” said Helen. “You can’t pick them.”

  Being second cousin to Helen, her thinly veiled remark did not help his burning stomach. She had made it clear from the start that she did not approve of his upcoming marriage to a woman of Catholic upbringing, even though Doreen was no longer active in the church. He chose to let the snide comment pass. He had enough trouble as it was. Besides, she was right. You can’t pick your relatives.

  “When Delbert gets back, have him go out and tell Lorenzo in person about his truck. Old man García loved that truck. For him it was sort of like living his youth all over again. He saved up for years to get it. He told Delbert it took all his money to get the truck and because of that he didn’t have insurance.”

  “It seems like bad things always happen to those who can afford it the least.”

  “Delbert’s Uncle Donnie lives a few miles north of García’s place. Tell Delbert to stop there and ask around to find out if Donnie or any of the neighbors have seen anything suspicious going on. If anyone has, the word would have gotten around by now.”

  “Are you sure you want Delbert doing investigation work? You never know what kind of rumor he might accidentally start. Don’t you think it would be better if Mr. García heard it from you?”

  “Lorenzo García is country folk. Delbert’s a country boy. He understands folks up that way. He speaks their language. Delbert can get better information and get it quicker than either Deputy Steele or me. A friendly face is always a better bearer of bad news. Besides, my belly is aching from too much coffee and not enough food. I’m going down to the Town Talk and grab a quick bite. If I’m not back by the time Deputy Steele is done talking with the principal, have her wait for me.”

  Sheriff Hanks glanced over his shoulder at his secretary as he headed for the door. The look of disappointment covering her face gave him pause.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Oh, nothing.”

  It was mid-morning and Helen’s blood sugar would be acting up. He should have remembered to ask if she would like him to bring her a muffin. It was a matter of kindness. How could he have forgotten, especially after how well she handled the bomb threat? The pain in his gut was confusing his thinking, but the sheriff knew a little bit of gut discomfort was no excuse for bad manners.

  “I was just thinking,” he said. “Do you like blueberries?”

  “I love them.”

  “Doreen told me last night she was going to use fresh blueberries when she baked this morning. I was going to surprise you. I kind of figured you must like blueberries, but I wanted to make sure.”

  “Shame on me,” said Helen. “I thought you were going to forget about asking me. I’m glad Doreen is finally teaching you some decent manners. If she says the blueberries are good, well then that is what I will have.”

  Zeb pulled his cowboy hat snug onto his head preventing the gusting wind from giving it a free ride down the street. If he lived to be a hundred, he might never have a handle on the way women think. God help me, he mused, if women ever become as criminal minded as men are, I won’t have a chance.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “I was wonderin’ when you was gonna show up. Ya’ didn’t even wake up to kiss your best gal good-bye this mornin’. Just because we’re gettin’ married at Christmas time doesn’t mean you can treat me like some sort of strumpet--which, by the by--I ain’t no such thing.”

  Sheriff Hanks glanced around the cafe. Between the small number of late breakfast and real early lunch diners, the main part of the cafe was mostly empty. In the back part of the café, within earshot of Doreen’s sassy remark, the town ministers of Safford were gathered for their monthly association meeting. They stopped a quiet discussion to hone in on Doreen’s quip. Zeb could practically see their ears burning as she blurted out strumpet. Now she was almost advertising that the two of them were living in what the churchmen would certainly consider sin.

  “I was out like a light. Maybe it was you who should have kissed me goodbye?” said Zeb, keeping his voice low. His personal business was of no concern to the gathered preachers.

  “Shucks almighty, you was sleepin’ like an angel. Wakin’ you up woulda’ just been plain wrong.” Doreen bent down towards Zeb’s ear and whispered. “I suppose then that you might not be able to give me all the details about the bomb threat that forced all them poor kids out onto the football field this mornin’?”

  It never failed to amaze Zeb how Doreen got the buzz on whatever happened in town damn near before it happened. It always seemed to be telephone, telegraph, tell Doreen and tell the world. Not that it mattered, but once again he asked how she knew what she knew and once again he got a convoluted answer, which seemed to be nothing less than perfectly logical to Doreen.

  “Every day Maxine Miller, you know Maxine who worked here on and off for years, she works up at the school now, I don’t blame the girl, she gets health benefits and all which I could not afford to give her and God knows she needs them bein’ with child and all. Anyway, she works in the principal’s office and every mornin’ after they get the attendance, that’s one of her jobs, which sorta surprises me because she was never very organized, they send her down here for donuts for the teacher’s lounge. I swear teachers eat more donuts than anyone. Don’t you think?”

  The rat-a-tat machine gun answer gave Sheriff Hanks a reason to smile as he glanced down at his protruding belly. Doreen kept firing away.

  “Well, almost everyone that is, present company excluded, when it comes to donuts. So when she didn’t show up on time, she’s always here at eight fifty-five on the nose, always on time that gal, never organized but always prompt, even knew exactly when her monthly was coming, that’s why I’m surprised she got knocked up. Now that I think about it, she musta’ wanted a baby with or without a daddy that might hang around for the duration. That Schmid boy, he’s the father, I hear tell he’s already outta the picture. Joined up with Uncle Sam is what I heard. Well, when she didn’t show, I called up there and no one answered the phone in Principal Newlin’s office. That seemed sort of strange, dontcha’ think?” Zeb nodded. “Why wouldn’t anyone be at the school? Well, I put the phone down and called again, figurin’ maybe the attendance was takin’ longer than usual or the phones were tied up callin’ parents about kids who didn’t show up to see if they were really sick. That’s one of her jobs too. She does a bunch a weird stuff. No answer agin’. So I got to thinkin’…”

  “Uh-oh, thinking might mean trouble,” interjected Zeb.

  “Oh hush up yer mouth. I got to thinkin’ maybe I got the wrong number? I knew I didn’t but I looked it up in the phone book anyways. Funny how when somethin don’t feel right we stop trustin’ ourselves first, ain’t it Zeb? I mean why on God’s green earth would I think I had somethin’ screwed up?”

  “I hadn’t thought about it quite like you just explained. But, I suppose you’re right.”

  Zeb beamed with a new found personal pride. He might have finally learned to never disagree with a woman when she is making a point. Just maybe he was learning about women in general, Doreen in particular.

  “Anyway, then I got to thinkin’ that about five minutes earlier I seen ol’ Josh Diamond in his pickup truck, with them bloodhounds of his, headin’ up the school road. Right away I got to thinkin’--bomb threat.”

  “Hold on a sec, Doe. That’s some mighty fast figuring. How come you thought that? You know he trains those dogs out toward the Mount. He could have just been on his way out there.
”

  “Nope. For sure nope. When he’s headed up trainin’ on the Mount, he always stops by for a large coffee and some meat scraps for the dogs. Besides he was speedin’ and that good ol’ boy never moves that fast.”

  “You got him pegged on that one.”

  “Both you and Jake told me Josh was a dog and demolitions expert durin’ both his military and border patrol time. All hell and tarnation should become me if I couldnta’ put something that obvious together. What do I look like anyway? Some sort of ditzoid lamebrain?”

  Zeb looked at the lovely, crazy women who would soon be his wife. He knew of no other human being who so succinctly verbalized what went on inside her head. Not even a child could do it so well.

  “Then about five minutes later ol’ Mrs. Cordoli comes in and tells me every kid at the high school is standin’ out on the football field. She says she seen your car is up there too. She seen it pull up with yer’ cherry spinnin’ and yer siren whoop whoopin’ away. Coffee?”

  “How about a Pepto Bismol, straight up?”

  “Yer stomach still barkin’ back atcha? I thought you said it was all better. You been holdin’ the truth back on me?”

  “Too much coffee on an empty stomach...”

  “Hell’s bells, sweetie pie. I got just the thing for that. Chamomile tea to calm the tummy ache, a few biscuits to sop up them nasty digestive juices and you just might be feelin’ better.”

  “…and a few too many crimes for a county this size.”

  Doreen paused. She looked her man in the eye and could see that things were really bothering him. She made an attempt to cheer his obviously dampened spirits.

  “Can’t do nothin’ ‘bout that crime wave, unless you deputize me. Say, that reminds me. After we get hitched up am I automatically made into a deputy by the law? It seems I oughta’ be. In fact there must be a law regardin’ such things.”

  “There is.”

  “There is?”

  “It’s called the Zeb Hanks law. It goes exactly like this. My wife can never have anything to do with anything about the law and should a time come when she thinks she can, I am no longer to be considered her dearly beloved husband.”

  “Hon, I’m sorry. What’s botherin’ you? I mean what’s really chewin’ away at yer innards?”

  “Something Helen said to me this morning…”

  “Did she shoo you away from her desk agin’?”

  “Nothing like that. “

  “Snoopin’ in on yer private phone conversations?”

  “Always. But that’s not what I’m talking about.”

  “Well, hell’s bells and buckets a blood spit it out Zebulon Hanks.”

  “I am trying to.”

  “Well zip my lip,” Doe made the universal symbol of someone zipping their lips shut. Zeb rolled his eyes and smiled.

  “After we got the bomb threat Helen asked me, “What’s wrong with people anyway?” You know, I got to thinking about it. It sure seems like people are changing. I mean we have had more car thefts, robberies, petty theft and harassment in Safford in the last six months than in the last two years. Now with this bomb threat at the school--well--it just makes you wonder where in the world things are headed. Next thing you know people will be thinking they have to lock their doors at night. Already I see more and more people locking up their cars just to run into the store for a couple of things.”

  “Zeb darlin’, you’ve burned enough tread off yer tries to know that bad luck comes in streaks. It runs on the same kinda path that good luck does. It just happens to be one of them down times. It’ll sure enough change, always does, sure as the sun brightens the day and stars twinkle in the night.”

  “I suppose you’re right.”

  “At times like this you just gotta grab onto the one ya’ love and hold on tight. I think that’s why the good Lord put me on the planet.”

  Doreen slipped around the counter, twisted Zeb’s stool around and plopped onto his lap. She planted a huge, wet kiss on his lips while running a pair of wildly caressing hands up and down his back, then squeezed him enough to make the two of them one person. Her movements caught the ministers’ attention.

  “This one’s for you preacher boys.”

  Doreen embarrassed Zeb by making a loud smacking sound as she kissed him. Her hand then gently pulled up her skirt just high enough to reveal the better part of a creamy white thigh.

  “Doe, honey, you’re embarrassing me.”

  The buxom waitress leaned forward and whispered in her man’s ear.

  “If I’d really wanted to embarrass you, I’d say somethin’ about your breath. It smells like the south end of donkey headin’ north. I’m calling Doc Yackley. Either you got a rotten tooth or the makings of an ulcer.”

  “Oh, so now you’re a business woman, a detective, a dentist and a doctor.”

  “A lick a horse sense is all it takes. You might want to take a lesson from that. I probably’d make a pretty dang good doctor if there weren’t no blood involved in it.”

  “How about that tea and biscuits…Doctor Doreen Nightingale?”

  “Comin’ right atcha, one second after I ring up Doc Yackley. But doncha’ think for one minute sweet talking me will get you a pass on seein’ the doc. You’re gonna go even if I gotta carry ya to his office.”

  Zeb knew she was right. His stomach hadn’t been normal since he had a couple of bouts of the flu a while back. His gut was not that bad, but it wasn’t strong like it had been before he got sick. How Doreen knew what was bothering him was another one of those little mysteries about women that puzzled him. He checked his breath by putting his hand in front of his mouth and blowing into his palm. It smelled sickly, a bit like an infection. The chamomile tea seemed to calm his stomach and the biscuits were heavenly. Twice Doreen reminded him he was eating too fast.

  “I gotta run, Doe. I have a thousand places to begin the investigation into the school bomb threat. There are almost too many possibilities to know exactly where to begin.”

  “Why don’t you just start at the beginning?”

  “Now that you mention it, I guess the beginning is as good of a place as any.”

  “Don’t get sassy with me or your tummy will start howlin’ again. That’s the way those things work, ya know.”

  Zeb reached for his wallet. Doreen refused his payment and handed him a blueberry muffin for Helen.

  “Somebody’s gotta give ya’ a break, big guy. Ya’ know what they say--charity reaches out its longest arm to a lover.”

  Zeb grabbed his hat and made for the exit. He tossed Doreen a subtle wink, and after making certain the churchmen were looking the other way, Zeb blew Doreen a quick air kiss.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Outside of the Town Talk Diner the air was crystal clear; the sky, with sparse clouds floating over the mountain, was blue and bright. Suddenly Zeb felt physically better than he had in weeks. Maybe he would get a quick break on the bomb threat investigation. He took a deep, relaxing breath. He concluded that probably some angry, foolish kid had made the call to impress his buddies. Odds were pretty good that before long one of the punks would be crowing about how they had pulled a fast one over on the cops. With any luck he would have the caller behind bars in less than a week. It made no sense getting worked up over a lousy day and a bad couple of weeks. He would do his job. He would get to the bottom of all the recent shenanigans. Something this big would bring him leads by tomorrow at the latest. Maybe he would have the bomb threat wrapped up in nothing flat. Even the possibility of his brother, Noah, being the car thief who stole the red corvette seemed less likely. He hoped that the car dealer had mistaken someone else for Noah. But Zeb also knew that with his brother’s history, his hopeful thinking was likely unrealistic optimism. Zeb knew Noah had been full of criminal intent since he was a pre-teen. There was no reason to believe that anything had changed.

  Zeb was glad his old friend Max Muñoz was the detective involved with Lorenzo García’s stolen truck in Tucson. The
fact that a dead body had been found in the truck was bad news, real bad news. While the victim was not really his problem, there was an outside chance that there was some sort of connection to the Garcías. He decided to wait to call his old buddy until after he got the report from the Tucson police department, and after Delbert had time to explain to old man García what had happened to his truck.

  Maybe the psychological trauma of having a dead body found in his truck would stir up something in Lorenzo’s memory. Maybe the old man had seen something and blocked it out or ignored it. Now with his truck gone forever, it might just unlock the part of his mind that held a clue. More than once in this type of a circumstance Zeb had seen people cough up knowledge they didn’t know they had. At the state sheriff’s convention he had attended a seminar on repressed memory. Yes, this could certainly be that sort of thing. It was no big stretch to see how people put up a protective wall when loss occurred. Zeb’s world looked potentially brighter by the minute. His stomach actually felt good as he handed Helen her blueberry muffin.

  “Made special just for you.”

  “You are a sweetheart. So is Doreen for thinking of me.”

  “Is Deputy Steele back yet?”

  “She’s in her office listening to the tape.”

  “Would you tell her I would like to talk with her when she has a minute? And, could you please bring me a cup of cof--never mind. Do we have any chamomile tea?”

  Helen, surprised by the request, did a double take. Without asking questions she quickly made the sheriff a cup of tea.

  Zeb shook his head in self-disgust as he got down to filling out his report. If he was not thinking clearly enough to know that coffee was burning a hole in his gut, how would he ever get to the bottom of a crime spree in his county, or figure out if his brother was indeed the car thief who stole the Corvette? A couple of deep breaths later he realized it was the thought of a school building, with hundreds of helpless children in it, being threatened that really stuck in his craw. His irritation was rising as Deputy Steele rapped lightly on his door. The sound snapped him back from a progressive abyss of angry thoughts. Her easy demeanor was also helpful.