Missings, The (21 page)

Mex Anderson’s Home

Tuesday, September 25

“You need to do something today,” Mex said from the entrance to the kitchen. He still looked disheveled. Not quite the put-together man with creased jeans Chase had only recently met.

The detective watched the man about whom he’d just learned something significant. Something personal and painful. The loss Chase had experienced, as horrible as it was, couldn’t compare to the loss this man had endured.

“I have some names for you.”

“Names?”

Mex walked into the kitchen and stood in front of the refrigerator. “The boy in the dumpster? His name is Miguel Martinez. I have his toothbrush.” Mex stopped speaking and Chase imagined the last time that toothbrush had been used. A private moment simply dealing with the normal hygiene of an ordinary day. “His brother brought it to me and I have no doubt that’s who your murder victim is.”

Sedona came and pushed him away from the refrigerator. Her brother moved like a zombie. “Would you like some tea?”

Mex didn’t answer her. Instead he shuffled over to a chair near the window. “I also know the name of the woman. The one you found at the Ute burial grounds.” Mex fell into the chair.

Chase understood that as hard as the information relating to the male was, this was infinitely more difficult. He waited.

“The woman’s husband came to me. She was a young mother of two toddlers. He brought me her hairbrush but when I reached out to accept it he couldn’t let it go. It was a part of his wife. Of the woman he loved. The mother of his children. His grip tightened on that hairbrush until I reached for an envelope to pull a few strands for samples. His tears were flowing down his face.” Mex’s voice trailed off. Chase knew he was remembering his own loss. “Her name was Anna. She was not only a wife and a mother, but also a resource in the undocumented community for assistance and counseling. Her husband told me she was responsible for at least a dozen young people graduating from high school.”

Chase accepted both evidence envelopes, clearly marked with dates, times and names. “Thank you.”

“I have more.”

“More?”

“You need to talk to Efraín Madrigal,” Mex continued.

“The kid from the bookstore? The one they call Tom Hanks?” Chase was in Cobalt Mountain Books at least once a month.

“Yep. That’s the one.”

“Why?”

Apparently the meds hadn’t quite kicked in. Mex turned around and walked away.

The Benavides Home

Tuesday, September 25

Daniel had trouble finding a place to park. Pickup trucks, delivery trucks and people took up every available space in front of the Benavides home. Daniel drove around the block and pulled his car in to the first spot he found, then walked back around and watched even more people arrive to help.

He saw the fire damage to the front of the house. The carefully tended flower garden had either been destroyed by the fire or trampled by the firefighters or the workers this morning. Whatever the cause, only mashed foliage remained. Chase said the fire had pretty much gutted the kitchen in the back. Guilt flamed in Daniel’s chest.

Yesterday. It had just happened late yesterday afternoon. And already this morning the area hummed with the pounding of hammers and the conversation of people joined together to achieve a goal. Tejano music blared out of the biggest boom box he’d ever seen. The bouquet of flowers he held in his hand seemed pointless and weak. A little like how he felt about himself.

Elizabeth held a tray of hot coffee and cocoa in styrofoam cups for the people helping her family rebuild their home. “Are those for me?”

“No. Um… ” He wanted to help her with her tray but the flowers nixed that idea.

“No?”

Why hadn’t he thought to bring two bouquets? Two pointless and weak bouquets would be better than one.
“They’re, um… I brought them for your mother.”

He couldn’t believe his eyes. Elizabeth Benavides actually smiled at him. But the moment she saw him begin to smile back she wiped hers from her face.

“Mamá is around the back. She wants to make sure her kitchen is rebuilt top-notch. No corner-cutting for my mamá.”

“Is there, um… anything I can help with?”

“Have you found my sister’s murderer?”

“Not yet.”

“Well, there’s always that.”

Daniel nodded and shifted his feet.

“You look awful,” Elizabeth said.

Another nod.

“Take the flowers to Mamá before you mangle them beyond recognition. I have work to do.” She moved off to a group of men unloading roof materials from a truck. Daniel watched as she moved effortlessly among them. Confident. Feminine. Strong.

Two bouquets
. All it would have taken to make a miserable situation a little stronger would have been a second bunch of flowers. Never again would he arrive at the Benavides home with one pitiful handful of petals. Assuming of course he’d ever be invited back.

Daniel zigzagged through people to reach the back of the house. Neighbors were applying paint to the message on the garage, but they hadn’t covered it yet. QUIT TALKING BITCH affected him more than any other bit of graffiti or gang message he’d ever seen. Those words targeted Elizabeth. She didn’t need this kind of crap. As a low boil of rage began to build in his gut, he realized he needed to regain a professional footing.

Ramona Benavides, sporting a hardhat pushed as far back on her head as she could shove it, stood outside the work area and gestured to a man with a clipboard. Probably an inspector. She obviously had the situation in control because the man, whose own hardhat bore the official county emblem, nodded as he made notes and checked off items when she pointed to them.

She glanced up and spotted Daniel. Without a word she turned her back to the county official and marched toward him. Daniel prepared for the worst.

“You! Detective!”

Daniel didn’t move, certain he deserved whatever the woman needed to fling at him. He would have knelt on the ground if he thought it would help the short woman speak her peace to his face. But she didn’t need his help.

“Look my house. Look these people. Here because of police. Here because of you.” She stabbed the air with the same finger that had been pointing things out to the inspector a few seconds ago. But the rest of her hand was fisted. Angry. Accusatory.

“Yes, ma’am.”

She sniffed. Crossed her arms in front of her. Swallowed. Exhaled.

“Who flowers for? Elizabeth?”

Two bouquets. Shit.

“No, ma’am.”

“Who for?”

Daniel took a couple of steps forward and held the bedraggled bouquet out toward the woman. “I, um… brought them for you.”

Ramona Benavides fell silent. A rosy hue and misty eyes appeared at the same time. She blinked her eyes clear and thrust out her hands. “Give. Maybe a vase did not burn.”

Daniel handed the woman the flowers and her hands grasped his. Ramona had something else she needed to say to him. Whatever it was, he could take it. He deserved it.

“Elizabeth needs leave here. Take her for few minutes. Twenty, thirty. Okay?”

Ten minutes later, Daniel and Elizabeth sat at a table in The Coffee Pod. Sun slanted through the windows, highlighting Elizabeth’s hair and reminding Daniel of that old television show where a normal girl suddenly announced her angel DNA. He could see Elizabeth saying the same thing.

“This is a bad time for both of us,” Daniel said.

“Both of us?”

Daniel felt heat in his face but he persisted. “You are grieving. A major loss has tossed your life around like so much flotsam. And I’m in the middle of a complicated case. You can’t be expected to have a clear head, and I can’t focus too long on anything other than finding a killer or killers.”

“Daniel, this might not be a good time but it is a time for us to bookmark and return to later. Then we can know what makes us laugh, what our favorite movies are, and maybe even share our dreams. And we will already know how we respond under pressure. If we end up with a relationship, we will have already gotten a lot of the hard stuff sorted out.”

Daniel thought he might float away. She had said the words he wasn’t able to, and she had put them together in a nonthreatening, open-ended, easy-relationship kind of way. He smiled and gave her a wink.

They finished their coffee in silence, then returned to Daniel’s car for the ride back to the Benavides home.

Six blocks from their destination, Daniel spotted the black Mustang. “Get out.” He slowed the car and pulled over.

“What?”

“You heard me. I need you to be safe. Quick. Get out.”

“Not without you telling me why.”

“See that black Mustang up there?”

Elizabeth nodded.

“It’s involved somehow. You need to get out so I can follow them. Things could get dangerous.”

“Involved? In the fire? In my sister’s murder?”

Daniel didn’t respond.

“I’m not getting out. I want to see what the people in this car have to show us. I want to know how they’re involved.”

“Dammit, woman! Get out!”

She crossed her arms in the same way her mother had earlier. He could pull her out but in the time it took to do that he’d lose the Mustang for sure. He watched as it made a left turn and disappeared.

“Fine. Then you need to sit tight, don’t get out of this car unless I say it’s okay, and follow every order I give you from this point forward. Do you agree?”

She gave a quick nod. “Yes. Now go. He’s getting away.”

* * *

Daniel followed well behind the Mustang. His plan had been to bring Robert Carlisle in for questioning today. What had the ex-con been doing in Elizabeth’s neighborhood? Chase said he’d seen the car at the fire. Had Carlisle come back to look at his handiwork? To threaten Elizabeth more?

All of Main Street and anywhere from two to four blocks on either side was the business district for Aspen Falls, the biggest section exactly in the middle of town. No surprise the Mustang headed down Main Street and parked in the first available space beyond The Coffee Pod.

Daniel checked his watch. A few minutes before ten. Robert Carlisle exited the vehicle and hitched up his pants. Still photos of suspects didn’t have anything on watching them move. Daniel noted the steel-toed boots, hands that looked too large for Carlisle’s slight build, and the way he checked out his surroundings. He cracked his neck as if he had all day, but his stance was wary and his eyes darted around. Another man got out of the passenger side.

The detective drove past the Mustang and turned left at the next intersection.

“What are you doing? You passed them!” Elizabeth screamed in his ear.

Halfway down the block Daniel made a U-turn and parked. Snapped off his seatbelt and checked his weapon. He considered calling for backup and rejected the idea. No use showing all of their cards when there probably wasn’t a reason.

“Stay here.” He didn’t look at Elizabeth.

He heard her seatbelt unlatch. “Dammit, Elizabeth. Stay here. Stay safe. Stay out of my way. If you really want to catch the scum who killed Rachelle, you will back down and do as I say.”

Daniel moved away from the car, tugged on his jacket to make sure his gun remained covered, and sauntered to the corner. He caught a glimpse of Carlisle just as he disappeared behind the building that housed Cobalt Mountain Books. Daniel jogged to the front of the building then slid down the narrow opening between the bookstore and the coffee shop. He slipped his weapon free, then stopped a good four feet from the edge and moved with a steady precision to the back corner.

A quick glance around the corner and he pulled his head back. Carlisle and the other man, presumably his brother, stood talking to a young Hispanic male in the delivery area behind the bookstore. The kid looked nervous as hell. Daniel watched, ready to intervene if necessary.

Carlisle handed a piece of paper the size of a business card to the kid and took a step back. Then he said something to his buddy and gestured in the general direction they’d come. The conversation ended and Daniel needed to get out of there fast. He double-timed it back around to the front of the building, holstered his gun, pumped past the still-closed bookstore, and slipped into The Coffee Pod.

From the front window of the coffee shop Daniel watched the two men get back in the black Mustang and take off.

When he got back to his car Elizabeth wasn’t there.

Cobalt Mountain Books

Tuesday, September 25

As Chase drove to the bookstore, he reviewed the meeting he’d had that morning. He had learned a lot about Mex Anderson from his sister and figured he’d learn a lot more from Mex himself. He and Mex had both suffered loss, but Chase couldn’t imagine the horror of what Mex went through. To lose his entire family? There were a lot of reasons for depression, and Mex couldn’t have picked a worse one.

He’d dropped off the hair samples and toothbrush at Jax’s office earlier. The ME promised she’d confirm if they were a match to the John and Jane Doe as soon as possible. He knew better than to hope for anything anytime soon. This wasn’t an episode of CSI.

Chase pulled up in front of the bookstore and saw the “Open” sign still swinging behind the door. When he entered Cobalt Mountain Books, a customer already had Efraín Tomás Hanks Madrigal fully engaged.

Damn.
He knew the customer. Elizabeth Benavides. And she didn’t act like she needed help finding a book. Efraín looked like he might toss whatever he’d eaten for breakfast any minute. Chase walked up to the pair, intent on getting control of the situation fast.

The door to the bookstore slammed open and Daniel Murillo stormed in so determined to get to Elizabeth he didn’t see Chase.

Anger and fear hardened Daniel’s features. “I told you to stay in the car. You could have ruined this investigation.” Daniel spoke with controlled fury. “You could have been hurt.”

“I saw those two men talking to this boy. I want to know why.” Elizabeth squared off to face Daniel and she saw Chase. Her eyes flickered.