Chris Anaya was the Santa Fe County livestock Inspector. A short, pudgy Hispanic man with a military-style crew cut, he spent mornings listening to complaints about broken fences, cows grazing on private land and coyotes killing and eating pet ducks. He patiently took down the information and entered it on the requisite county forms. Afternoons, he visited the homes of the complainants and then the alleged offenders.
He was tough but fair. Most people hated to see him arrive. Chris was one year away from retirement and couldn’t wait. He had a section of the Pecos River all picked out to spend his days camping and fishing. Today he was headed to the Crawford Ranch to talk to Charlie Cooper about a complaint: his boss’s cattle had been grazing on neighboring land. Charlie said two o’clock was fine with him.
Anaya’s radio played Spanish music with guitars and accordions accompanying a singer belting out the lyrics. The old Rancheras were songs that epitomized the long-ago life of Mexican cowboys. Not much different than country western music, he mused. Someone’s always drunk, jilted or both.
As he soon as he stepped onto the Crawford Ranch, the mangy dog barked. Anaya carried a stash of dog biscuits in his pocket and tossed him one. Charlie greeted him at the door and invited him into the kitchen.
“Charlie, we got another complaint about your cows grazing on the Goodman Ranch. Crawford Lazy C brand on them. On the way over, I saw a section of fence down. Must be where they’re getting out. Need to get that fixed, otherwise I’ve got to issue a citation, and you know what a pain in the ass that can be.”
“No, that’s not necessary. I’m on it,” said Charlie. “I’ve been fixing up the place, and mending fences is on my list.”
“I’ll take your word for it. I don’t want to have to come all the way out here again,” he said. “Hey, can I use the John? I’ve been taking this medication and can’t stop the leaks.”
“No problem,” Charlie said. “Blue door on the right.”
He prayed under his breath that the generally nosy inspector couldn’t smell the residue from the load of weed he just cultivated. Charlie liked to imagine himself a cowboy right out of the old West. If these were old frontier times, I would kill the guy with one shot, Charlie thought. Anaya probably hadn’t noticed anything.
Charlie had picked up a gal named Jennifer at the bar earlier in the day. She sat at the kitchen table leafing through an old National Geographic, her sandaled feet propped up on a chair. Around twenty-two, she had delicate features with wide blue eyes, auburn hair pulled away from her face. She was decked out in white shorts and a blue tank top. She stood up as Anaya came out of the bathroom.
“Hey, listen Charlie,” she said. “Maybe I can just catch a ride back to town with this guy. How about it, Mister? I have a class at the community college, and I can’t miss another one.”
“Sorry,” Anaya said. “Against the rules to give citizens rides in county vehicles. I can’t tell you how sad that makes me.” What was wrong with him, anyway? Besides, she was an awfully pretty girl, a little young to hang around the likes of Charlie.
“Aw, who’s going to know the difference?” Jennifer asked. “I ain’t going to take an ad out in the papers that you gave a stranger a ride in your official vehicle.”
Charlie had a feeling he wasn’t the first law enforcement officer she’d talked out of something, or into something. He wasn’t sure he liked the way things were going. They’d smoked a little weed and did a turn in the sack, but for a gal that cute, Charlie could get it up three or four times. All he could think of to say was, “Hey.”
“Well, maybe it wouldn’t be too much of a problem,” Anaya said. He had a reputation himself for being a ladies’ man, but Charlie sure did have a knack for picking the lookers.
“Nah, that’s all right,” Charlie spoke up. Maybe he wasn’t through with her after all. He could tell by that shit-eating grin on Anaya’s face that he had plans for Jenny. “I can get you back in time. It’s only four.”
But Jennifer insisted. “No use you making a special trip when he’s going in that direction. Give you a chance to fix that fence, if you don’t have to carry me to town. Besides, this guy is going in that direction. Seems such a waste of gas.”
“Since it’s the end of my day, I guess it’d be okay.” Anaya was aware he was on thin ice with his superiors, but it was almost quitting time and besides, who was going to see him way out here in the sticks.
Charlie thought he would choke. “Sure, why not. Make sure she gets home in one piece.”
Anaya smiled and shook his hand. “Be sure to take care of that fence, Charlie. I don’t want to have to come all the way out here again.”
“Thanks anyway,” Jennifer said. “It was nice meeting you, Charlie,” she smiled and smoothed her tank top over her shorts.
“Shit,” Charlie said as they closed the door behind them. “Shit. Shit. Shit.”