Dead Man's Rules (12 page)

“Since he dug up the yard,” Monte finished, nodding in agreement, gray hair dancing on his thin shoulders.

“Don’t believe them,” Rafe cautioned in a low voice.

Cere looked from one man to the next. Jerry stared at the yard, dark eyes glittering in the klieg lights that had been put up along the fence. Monte leaned against the pillar where Jerry sat, unlit cigarette in one hand, while Bill, the man in the green baseball cap, stood beside him, hands thrust into the back pockets of jeans that clung to narrow hips.

She couldn’t tell if they were teasing. They had joked about Bradley Foster at the café and he
was
dating her mother. A quick glance toward Rafe offered no answers. He shifted and for an instant she caught sight of his eyes under the brim of his hat. His dark eyes glowed and something strange sparked inside her. She grew suddenly aware of his large body next to her and the difference in their heights. Her eyes were level with the badge on his chest.

As if he noticed their close proximity and her eyes on him, he turned away, shaking his head. He ambled around the yard, scanning the yard and house. Was he looking for clues or checking for where the old guy might have hidden the coins? She was tempted to follow him, but given her strange reactions to him, she stayed put.

****

Rafe watched the scene unfold with a sense of unease. He had heard enough from the men and he wasn’t certain he wanted to remain near Cere much longer. She smelled too good and he was too aware of her presence as she stood beside him. In a slim black dress with short sleeves and a dipping neckline that gave him a tantalizing view of her cleavage, she raised the temperature in his blood despite cool night air. His uncle Willie waved from across the lawn and he walked over to him.

“The old man? They’re certain it’s murder?” Willie asked.

His uncle ran the town newspaper and much as Rafe wanted to provide an answer, he knew anything official had to come from the chief or there would be hell to pay. He’d already screwed up with comments to Cere.

“You better get the details from BJ.”

“They’re ignoring me.”

As though on cue, BJ and his dad, Mayor Foster, seemed to notice them and marched forward.

“Old Naldo Sanchez has been shot,” the mayor announced. “We’ve called the state crime boys, and they’ll be here in the morning. That’s the only statement we can give tonight.” His hard gaze pointed at Rafe.

“Did you tell them he’d been murdered?” Rafe asked, wondering what BJ had told the crime lab. He couldn’t believe the technicians would wait so long.

Like his son, Bradley’s face reddened visibly. “We don’t know what happened. We’re putting up tape around the scene once the coroner takes out the body. Nothing more to do tonight.”

Rafe glanced at the lingering crowd as the Fosters walked away. He doubted a string of yellow tape would hold them back long. “I hope you’re keeping someone here all night.”

BJ drew up abruptly and whipped around toward him, visibly angry. “We’ll lock up.”

“The guys out there are talking about that crazy treasure story,” Rafe said, stepping forward and lowering his voice. “If you don’t keep someone posted, you may come back in the morning and find the damn yard dug up. Someone might even break into the house.”

BJ shook his head, but his father grunted. “Damn, he’s right. Better keep someone here tonight. Can you lend us a deputy, Rafe?”

He didn’t have to think about that request for more than a second. “I’ll stay.”

BJ kicked at the ground, refusing to look Rafe in the eye, but he nodded. The mayor muttered a quick thanks.

He had several reasons for volunteering. He was curious about whether Diaz might venture by. And, if he was on duty he could look around. “Say, either of you run into a guy named Diego Diaz? Came into town a couple of days ago. Drives a black SUV with plates from Texas.”

The men exchanged a glance before both said, “No.”

“Talks with a funny voice,” Rafe continued.

“Wait. A strange guy stopped in the Matador the other day,” Mayor Foster said, stroking his chin. “Lottie and I were having lunch. He had a funny voice, kinda hoarse? Black sunglasses? He kept ’em on the whole time he was eating. Never talked to anyone except Josie, had lunch and left.”

“That’s him.”

“So?”

“He gave Naldo a ride the other night. When I asked him later, Naldo said he knew him but that he was leaving town. I haven’t seen him since, but he’s been hanging out near the Palladium. People saw him there yesterday. Maybe I’ll take a quick drive out there tonight and then come back and keep watch.”

“Yeah, sure.”

The men walked away and Rafe gave one last look around. Cere remained beside the fence, along with Jerry, Monte, Bill, and a couple of others from the neighborhood. He didn’t know what they were discussing, but he could see the impact of their words. He hadn’t known her long, but he could sense her rapt interest.

“Cere, how about if I give you a ride home?” he said, holding out his hand to take her arm. “I’m not going to let you stir up trouble.”

A quick smile crossed her lips, and his breath quickened as a dimple showed on one cheek. She lifted her hands, eyes wide and pleading innocence as she stepped out of his reach.

“I’ll behave, Sheriff. Honest.”

He wasn’t certain he believed her, but he didn’t have time to argue. He tipped his hat and walked to his vehicle. Maybe this was for the best. If she got caught up in the talk of buried gold, she might forget Marco Gonzales.

****

Cere didn’t stay long after Rafe left. She spoke to a few neighbors, asking questions and introducing herself. Most people agreed with the men. Someone was looking for Naldo’s hidden treasure. Was it a story that might interest
Scope?
Probably not. This was just another death in a small town. But the evening wasn’t a waste of time. Now people knew who she was. Next time she asked about Marco, a few might be more willing to talk.

She said her farewells and walked away. Her feet throbbed in pain from too long in her stiletto sandals, and she had several blocks to walk. Rounding a corner, she gave up and stopped to remove the offending shoes.

A black SUV approached as she straightened. She gripped a sandal tightly as the vehicle slowed and the window came down.

“Hey, what’s going on down there?” a whispery voice asked.

She could barely see the man but she knew that voice.

“Hey, I ain’t gonna hurt you,” he said with a strange laugh.

“Damn right, you won’t.” Cere felt no fear, not with a crowd down the block. She waved a sandal at him. “These heels are really sharp and I can yell really loud.”

Again the unsettling laugh. “You got me really scared. What’s happening down there?”

“Some old guy got killed. Mr. Naldo?”

He gasped and leaned forward. To her surprise, despite the darkness, he wore sunglasses. “Naldo Sanchez?”

“They said he was shot. They’re waiting for the coroner.”

Abruptly the window rolled up and the SUV roared off. To her surprise it didn’t go toward the crowd. With tires screeching it rounded the corner onto the main stretch of road that led out of town.

Chapter Twelve

Rafe leaned back against the headrest and fought to keep his eyes open. He checked his watch. 6:15. Less than an hour and his relief should be coming and he could go home and sleep. His plan to catch Diaz had not paid off. The Palladium had been eerily silent and the black SUV had not come by Naldo’s house during the night. Most of the crowd was gone by the time Rafe returned, and he recognized the few cars that drove by.

Josie had brought him a container of coffee on her way to open the Matador and he poured another cup before opening the car windows. The crisp morning air washed over him. He loved that clean, natural scent of pine trees, so different from the grimy stench of LA traffic. Rosy streams of sunlight streaked the sky above the rim of the mesa to the east.

The streets were quiet, except for a faint tapping behind him. It grew louder and he glanced in the mirror. A lone runner jogged down the street and he jerked up, nearly spilling his coffee. At first he thought it might be Lottie. Then he realized it was her daughter.

Cere stopped in front of the house.
She wore a T-shirt and wrinkled cotton boxer shorts. Her auburn hair was pulled into a messy pony tail. She pulled a small rectangular object from her pocket and pointed it toward the house. A cell phone. He couldn’t help himself.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he called.

She jumped, fumbled with the object and whirled around. When she saw him, she held up her phone and smiled. “Taking a picture.”

“Why?”

“Just to do it. I’m not bothering anyone and I’m within my rights. I mean, I’m on public property.” She gestured at the sidewalk.

“That’s not going to turn up on TV, is it?”

“A national news program interested in a small town murder? Hardly of interest,” she said with a shrug.

“You’re up pretty early, aren’t you?”

Shoving the phone into her pocket, she walked toward his Jeep. “I’m an early riser. What are you doing here? You look like you’ve been up all night.”

“I have been. I’m keeping an eye on the place until the state crime scene folks get here.” With a yawn, he put his coffee into the cup holder and climbed out of the car. He knew he must look like hell but she didn’t look like a highly paid reporter either.

As though guessing his thoughts, she tugged at a wayward strand of hair. “I thought it wasn’t your jurisdiction.”

“I’m helping out BJ, the police chief.”

She looked from him to the peaceful yard. “Why were you here all night?”

“You heard that crazy talk about treasure. I wanted to make certain no one tried to get into the house. Naldo might not have gold but there are valuable objects inside. Not to mention there are probably people dying to find out if he still had stuff they lost to his old pawn shop.”

“He had money?” Her voice carried a note of surprise. “I heard he worked as a janitor.”

“I didn’t say he had money. He had valuables. No telling what everything was worth. He probably didn’t know.”

“Why was he living in that little house and working?”

Maybe the exhaustion was getting to him, but he resented her condescending tone. At second glance, she might appear rumpled, but diamond studs adorned her ears and a designer watch circled her wrist. Her shoes were far from Walmart specials.

“He liked working. Called it his
dinero loco
. But he didn’t care about fancy clothes or an expensive house.”

She pressed her lips together, obviously catching his note of disapproval. “Gee, Sheriff and to think, Freeda thought you were flirting with me yesterday.”

“Were you hoping I was?” The change in her tone was subtle, but he read the flirtatious nature and his senses buzzed with electricity.

A hint of a smile quirked at the edges of her lips. “Were you?”

A sudden giddiness overwhelmed him. Or maybe the exhaustion had finally claimed his good sense. “I don’t think I’m going to answer. At least not right now when I look like crap.”

Her fingers slid over her T-shirt and back up to her hair. “I don’t look so hot either. I didn’t expect to see anyone. I don’t even have on eye makeup.”

“You look good. Especially for this early.”

“You
are
flirting.”

Despite an outright laugh, he shook his head. “Just tired.”

“You’re not going to offer to watch over me like you do everyone else?”

“Who do you need protection from? Besides ghosts, of course?”

Her sudden shiver surprised him. “Maybe that man in dark glasses from the Palladium.”

“Diaz? You saw him again?”

“Diaz? That’s his name? He drove by last night when I was walking home.”

Rafe stepped around the side of the vehicle as his sense of duty took control. “He drove by here? Did he stop or talk to anyone?”

“No, I was walking home, at the end of the street.” She pointed down the block.

“Did he know Naldo was dead?”

“He didn’t act like it.” Another shiver ran through her as though she felt a chill.

“Next time you see him, no matter what time, call me. I’ll give you my cell number.” He took out a card and handed it to her. Damn, he kept missing the guy! But at least now he knew Diaz had been in town the previous day.

“Do you think he’s dangerous?”

“What do you think?” He was curious about her take on Diaz. Rafe didn’t trust him, and he could see the man bothered her too.

“I don’t know.” She tucked the card into her pocket. “But I’ll call.”

He hated seeing her looking so concerned. His lips twitched and he lightened his tone. “Maybe you should call even if you don’t see him.”

She bit her lip and smiled up at him. “Even if I have questions about Marco Gonzales?”

Before he could answer, a vehicle came around the corner and they turned to see a white van with the state seal of New Mexico approaching.

****

Cere sat at her mother’s kitchen table, tapping on her laptop when Freeda and Lottie rose. Her mother trudged to the coffee maker on the counter. She touched it before reaching up to the cupboard and taking out a cup.

“Thanks for making coffee, sweetie. You girls are wearing me out. I normally do a morning jog, but the last two days I’ve been too exhausted.”

“Well, I’ve been up for more than an hour. And I did take a run and Roxie for a walk. Now I’m working on a blog.”

“Roxie misses you.” Lottie leaned down and petted the terrier that resembled an unkempt rag doll of a dog. She yapped in appreciation. Roxie had become a fixture in the Medina household after Cere went to college. Sometimes she wondered if Roxie didn’t consider her a rival for her mother’s affection.

“Did I hear you’re doing a blog?” Freeda entered the room with a yawn. “About what? You’re suspen… I mean, supposed to be on vacation.”

Cere’s head jerked up and she shot her cousin a cool look. “I’m writing about my vacation. I don’t want viewers to forget me. It’ll show Alan my dedication and demonstrate I have followers, even when I’m off the air.” The idea had come when she first woke and solidified as she ran. It was why she stopped at the murder scene to take a picture.