Chapter 44

 

Beau allowed himself a semi-congratulation as he drove west on Highway 64. Tim Beason seemed on the right track with Rudy Vasquez being tied to drug use and to someone in Taos who was most likely supplying him. He’d be just the sort of employee who might turn and provide help with a robbery like this. When Rudy broke down awhile ago, they’d gotten a name and Beau planned to check it out. However, he still felt a tinge of doubt. You couldn’t take a guy who occasionally snorted a little and make a definitive case that he’d got tied up in grand theft and attempted murder. Not to say it couldn’t have happened that way, but Beau felt there were a few too many inconsistencies in Vasquez’s statement. Beason might be a little overeager to wrap up everything in one neat package. For his own peace of mind, Beau wanted more concrete evidence.

The sun was low in the sky when he hit the eastern edge of Taos. Sam would probably be tied up at least another hour. He debated calling her, decided she had too many balls in the air already without trying to meet his schedule.

He spotted Charlotte’s Place and pulled in. He’d meant to get back much sooner and talk to R.G. about the day the money showed up here. An afternoon cup of coffee would work as an excuse for the visit.

The café was nearly empty when he walked in. R.G. and Claudine were chatting with Maria, the cook. Claudine was one of those always-busy sorts—at the moment she was wrapping cutlery in paper napkins. A customer stood near the register talking to Sandy Bartles as she rang up a purchase. The woman carried her bag of donuts out.

“Afternoon, Sheriff,” said Sandy. “What’ll it be?”

“Coffee would perk me up,” he said, taking a stool at the short counter.

“If you don’t mind a little wait, I’ll brew some fresh. I think this pot’s been here since lunch.”

He matched her grimace. “Make it an iced tea then.”

R.G. stepped over and asked Beau if he’d caught the game over the weekend. Beau had to think a minute. The days had flown by and he couldn’t remember. He shook his head and let Roy describe the final touchdown that gave Denver the win over Dallas.

Sandy brought his tea and provided the opening he wanted when she asked about the poor woman in the hospital.

“She’s still about the same, I’m afraid,” Beau said. “I’ve been checking every day. I wonder whether you all have seen any more sign of that young kid in black, the one who was here right before the money was found?”

Claudine looked up from the cutlery bin and shook her head. “I haven’t. R.G., have you seen that kid again?”

He admitted he hadn’t.

Sandy spoke up. “I’ve been thinking about it. I may have an idea who it was.”

Beau was suddenly all ears.

“There was this family who used to come in here a lot. The dad always had number twelve, the huevos rancheros, mom ate scrambled egg and toast—watching her figure, maybe, although she was already thin as a rail. Two kids, a boy and a girl. They were here, like, every Sunday morning for ages. I’d guess the kids were middle-school age. The girl had that sulky teen attitude sometimes.”

He felt like pressing Sandy’s fast-forward button.

“You said they used to come in? Not recently?”

“Yeah … no. It’s been at least a couple years since I saw them all. I heard the dad was killed—a car crash down near Santa Fe, I think? I’m not sure what ever happened to the rest of the family. Maybe hit hard times, maybe had to move away.”

“But you think this kid who was here the other day was the son?”

“Not the son, no. I think it was the little girl. She had super-light blonde hair. The boy was dark-haired.”

Rupert had thought the waif-like person could be female. And the light blonde hair reminded Beau of the kid he’d seen at the hospital.

“You know her name?”

A negative shake of the head.

“What about the family surname?”

Sandy stared up toward the ceiling, thinking hard. “It should be right there on the tip of my tongue. I always said hi, Mrs. … whatever … I just don’t remember it now.”

A stir near the front door caught Beau’s attention. Great. Bubba Boudreaux was back.

“Call me, would you?” he said, handing Sandy his card. “If you can think of that family’s name. It’s very important.” He had a feeling about it. This could be the connection they’d been looking for.

“Hey there, Sheriff!” Bubba’s larger-than-life voice filled the place. “You got my reward money yet?”

The man wore a smile on his chubby face but Beau knew he was perfectly serious beneath the har-har attitude.

“Sorry, Bubba, not today.” He left cash beside his tea glass, plenty for the beverage and a generous tip.

Bubba trailed him to the door. “Well, don’t forget where that money come from, how it was found right here in my place.”

Beau’s jaw clenched and he forced a tight smile. “I haven’t forgotten.”

He escaped to the cruiser. Argh! The nerve of the man.

He started his vehicle and pulled away, hoping Sam would be home in time for dinner. Meanwhile, he could feed and water the horses and play with the dogs a bit to shed himself of the day’s tension.