THE BOYS’ GRANDMOTHER, Tamara Bailey, opened her front door and ushered Peaches, Leann and the boys inside. The boys weren’t happy. Going to Grandma’s for a sleepover, while Mom worked the graveyard shift, no longer held much appeal. They preferred it when Grandma came to their house and slept in the guest room.
According to Tim, Grandma coming to their house made total sense. After all, their stuff—think Xbox—was there, and inevitably, they’d forget to bring something when packing for an overnight.
Peaches, however, was overjoyed. Grandma’s house had different smells and a bigger backyard.
“Every thing all right with you?” Tamara asked.
Leann set school backpacks by the front door, checked that school IDs were inside and then stuffed a dollar in each, so that tomorrow, the boys could buy ice cream after they ate their lunch. Straightening, she said, “Yes. Everything’s all right. I’m thankful that Zack’s been hired. You’ve probably heard Oscar is taking a much-needed vacation.”
Tamara nodded.
“So, yes,” Leann continued, “There are portions of my life that are going well.”
An expression Leann couldn’t read passed over Tamara’s face as she stood aside, letting two stampeding boys and one exuberant dog slide by her toward the living room.
It had to be hard, dealing with an ex daughter-in-law and returning son and not knowing which questions to ask or what to expect in terms of answers.
“Ten minutes,” Leann called to her sons, “and then be sure to take the dog out.”
“Milk and cookies are on the kitchen table,” Tamara added.
The cookies would be homemade. No doubt Tamara would be handing Leann a container of cookies to take to the station, a station that was still so woefully understaffed that Leann had to ask, “With Oscar taking time off, can you watch the boys more often this coming week?”
“No problem at all. I’m just sad you have to work so much.”
Leann was, too. It was a constant war within her heart, needing to work and so wanting to be with her boys.
“When does your shift end?” Tamara asked.
“In twelve hours, give or take, but Zack has a doctor’s appointment in the morning and is coming in right after. I’ll stay on patrol until he shows up and catch up on my sleep while the boys are in school.”
“Good, you need to take care of yourself.”
This was the moment when Tamara held up a hand for Leann to wait while Tamara quickly fetched the cookies. Not this time. Tamara, instead, had a few more probing questions. “I hear Lucas Stillwater turned in his retirement papers.”
“He turned in the papers this morning. It will be a huge change. He’s been there forever.” He’d also been Leann’s field training officer and had believed in her when many others hadn’t.
“You still wanting to move up the ranks?”
“I’m considering it.”
“Good thing Sarasota Falls is such a safe place to be,” Tamara said brightly.
Leann knew Tamara meant those words sincerely. Only one officer had died in the line of duty, and that had been Chief Riley’s partner and best friend.
Ten minutes later, Leann had the cookies and was on her way to work. She wasn’t a real fan of working the zombie shift, but sometimes it worked in her favor. It meant very little sleep but it also meant she was there when her boys finished school. She could supervise homework and stay for soccer practice.
The cookies disappeared as soon as she set them down on the counter of the break room. Leann didn’t eat any; she needed to avoid any extra curves right now. Fishing an apple out of her lunch box, she checked the patrol car, secured her weapons and began patrol.
She stopped by Main Street Church. Even though the dusk of evening had already changed from muted gray to dusty charcoal, the Women’s Auxiliary Club was just now streaming out the doors. Her mother belonged, so did the mayor’s wife, and anyone who was anyone in the small town of Sarasota Falls. Leann didn’t slow down, but before she could make her getaway, her mother waved to her. Leann called in her location, parked and exited the vehicle.
When she finally stood in front of her mother, Allison Theodora Crabtree, she was made to wait while the last of the church ladies had shut the doors to the vehicles. A few shot Leann sympathetic looks. Either her mother didn’t notice or she didn’t care.
“You wanted to talk to me?” Leann urged.
“I did. I understand Ryan will be here next week.”
“Possibly.”
“You know,” her mother said coolly, “he’s the father of your children. It wouldn’t hurt you to see if you can’t work out your differences for the sake of the boys.”
“Mother, believe me, Ryan doesn’t want—”
“Maybe if you shed that uniform and kept decent hours—”
Leann bit her tongue. What she wanted to toss out was “And give up helping others? And Ryan respects what I do.” Yikes, she’d actually given her ex a half compliment.
Her mother tossed one last grenade. “I heard you’ve been hanging around one of the Guzman brothers.”
Ah, Leann knew where this was going. “I responded on a disturbing the peace call. Nothing else.”
“What you don’t need,” her mother said, “is to get mixed up with someone with no prospects and little to speak of in terms of a secure future.”
Leann interpreted that as Gary Guzman had no position in the Sarasota Falls hierarchy. Bianca did, but it wasn’t very high up the ladder, at least according to Leann’s mother.
“He’s visiting his aunt, Mother.”
“I saw him coming out of the grocery store. He looks just like his father. It would be the worst kind of mistake for our families to mix.”
“Mother, Gary and I are…”
Her mother paid no attention to Leann, never had, and headed for her car, talking loudly as she went. “I do wish you would get control of your life. Your father would give you a job at his investment firm.”
Stuck in a small room, either answering the phone or checking numbers, emailing clients about changes in their portfolio or following the stock market…no thanks. Leann would rather drive an Uber. Besides, next to parenthood, being a cop was her life.
Opening the car door, her mother turned to add, “You need to start making better choices. And, Ryan is a better choice.”
Immediately what came to mind was the image of Gary, whose Sarasota Falls lineage went all the way back to the town founders. Something that her parents couldn’t claim. There’d been Crabtrees in Sarasota Falls for only the last, hmm, Leann didn’t know. Maybe sixty or seventy years, meaning if there really was a ladder, Bianca would be at the top and the Crabtrees would maybe be on rung three.
So, her mother’s aversion to Gary had to be something else.
What?
* * *
FRIDAY MORNING HAD been a round of packing, cleaning out his room at the B and B and heading to both the grocery store and the hardware store. As for food, man, he was going to miss Aunt Bianca’s cooking every night. As for the hardware store, he bought just enough to get started on the kennels. The dogs, as if sensing something unusual, had barked more—at least Wilma had. Goober just stayed close to Gary.
Oscar showed up bright and early Saturday morning. Still, it was well after ten when they both left Aunt Bianca’s driveway and hit the road.
At noon, the Jemez Mountains came into full view. Gary studied the various deep, rich colors of the sloping volcanic ridges. From a distance he saw the valleys as well as the woods. He tried to recall this trip, but he couldn’t. He clutched the steering wheel of his truck and all he could think was, “Wow, this is far from town.”
The dogs didn’t seem to mind. They stared at the passing scenery, tails wagging, and accepted the ride.
Just ahead, Oscar turned off New Mexico State Highway 4 and onto a gravel road, which eventually turned to dirt, and Gary was privy to watching the back of the camper bump along.
Finally, they arrived. His aunt Bianca’s property was marked by a weathered sign that read Guzman.
“Shelley and I have been out here a couple of times,” Oscar said after stepping down from his truck. “We mostly walked the forest. The cabin’s in pretty bad shape. More than once we found evidence that someone had squatted.”
“They must have been pretty desperate,” Gary remarked, hoping as Wilma took off for the trees that she’d return. Goober stayed at his side.
Together, he and Oscar chose where to set up a campsite. Gary had lived in most primitive spots, places where the trees hid danger and where sleep didn’t come. This wide-open space didn’t feel right. While it shouted “Safe wide-open space!” he knew looks were deceiving. Nothing that looked this good could be this good. Somewhere there was a shell waiting to be stepped on.
Gary knew more about generators and leveling than Oscar, but Oscar understood pop-outs and gray water. When they were done with setup, there was not only a decent bed, but also a working bathroom, shower, kitchen with microwave and television. Hopefully Gary could get reception. In the military, he’d often slept on the ground in the rain using his pack for a pillow, so this was luxury. The dogs loved it.
“I’ll bring Peeve out here right before we leave,” Oscar said. “That will give you time to get a proper place set up for Wilma and Goober.”
Goober heard her name and returned to Gary’s side. Wilma, however, had disappeared into the trees. Gary knew where he stood in the pack; he’d be chasing Wilma down, not the other way around.
“Sounds good,” he said. “First thing I’m going to do is build kennels for the dogs. I don’t want either of them running lose while I work on the roof.”
“I’m beginning to think you actually like being a dog keeper. Aunt Bianca says you’re learning German just so you can speak to Wilma.”
“To get Wilma to behave and be a good dog,” Gary corrected.
“Call it what you want.” Oscar checked the generator and then advised, “Make sure to take time to go introduce yourself to Russell Blackgoat.”
Gary remembered Shelley saying Blackgoat land was next door. “I look forward to meeting him.”
“You’ll like him. He’s got a shooting range in his backyard. Zack, Leann and I come up every once in a while and target practice.”
“Zack?”
“New hire at the station, just a kid.”
“I’d like to get some practice in, too, once I get going on this project.”
Both men turned to stare again at Aunt Bianca’s cabin. “It has potential,” Oscar said. “When we get back from the cruise, I’ll come out and lend a hand.”
“I’d like that.”
For the last ten years, Gary had seen family only during holidays and if he were stateside. Spending time with family was a perk. Maybe Sarasota Falls would do for a while. No, not to settle, but to rest a bit. He gazed at the cabin, trying to remember ever visiting it, trying to imagine Berto Guzman standing on the porch. His dad had been a flannel-shirt, baggy-pants kind of guy, always smiling.
“Your father had big dreams but experienced little payoff,” his mother once told him.
Gary’s great-grandparents had built this cabin. A photo of them was in Aunt Bianca’s living room. They were stoic and steady, like this cabin had to be to survive this long. They’d raised eleven kids and had been married fifty-eight years. “You’ll do great,” Oscar said.
“I know.” On one hand, Gary liked the idea of restoring the cabin to its natural beauty. On the other hand, he’d be out here in the middle of nowhere without neighbors. He didn’t do well in crowds, but instinctively knew he needed to be in the thick of life-living, breathing, experiencing the day-to-day challenges. And, noise kept the nightmares away. Maybe because he’d rarely slept alone once he’d enlisted. He’d always been in a barracks, on a bunk somewhere or hunkered down in some hole with the unwashed bodies of his comrades next to him, trying to sleep while the next battle either engaged or disintegrated.
He looked at Wilma and Goober.
Hmm, maybe they’d be enough.
“Hey,” Gary said, “before you leave, did Aunt Bianca bring up our father to you before I arrived?”
“Not really, not like she did yesterday. You have any idea what brought it on?”
“No, except she got all melancholy about the way I’m with dogs and the way Berto was.”
“I lived with her and Peeve was with me. She didn’t make a connection.”
“Maybe it’s something else,” Gary mused. Then, asked, “Do you think there’s really anything worth investigating? I mean, could there be something to find here about his disappearance?”
Oscar shook his head, but he didn’t look completely convinced. “I’m sure that when Dad was reported missing Aunt Bianca told the authorities to come out here to the cabin. I’ll check the station’s old files and see if there’s anything. Should have done it long ago.”
“Why?”
“I’ve always wondered what happened. Haven’t you?”
Gary shook his head. He’d stopped wondering during his twelfth summer, the summer he’d gone camping just about every other week. Usually, he was with his uncle Ricardo and cousins. Sometimes, though, he’d shared a tent with his best friend, his best friend’s father and three or four other kids. It kept him focused and out of trouble.
Didn’t matter if he had a father or not, that’s what the twelve-year-old Gary figured.
As if Oscar knew what his kid brother was thinking, he tousled the top of his head and said, “Our dad loved us. Aunt Bianca’s right. We can look into this.”
It was some time later when Oscar drove away saying something about needing to get to work. Gary didn’t have time to note how alone he was because he spent the next while driving around on the quad Oscar had lent him, to find Wilma, and he’d not have gotten the beast returned to the camper without Goober’s herding her. When he got back, he walked the property and determined where he’d build the kennel.
The dogs had to come first, and once Peeve joined them, it’d be three dogs in the small camper. And that would be three dogs too many.
Thus, he ordered the dogs back into his truck and headed into town. He purchased a few groceries and then stopped at the lumber store before heading to his new home.
Silence, except for wind, surrounded him. Tree limbs bent and waved as the late afternoon made its presence known. Wilma and Goober barked and bounded from the truck. Wilma ran off to explore the trees and Goober followed.
“Bring her back,” Gary shouted to Goober as he unloaded the ten treated posts from the back of his truck. He needed to dig ten holes, at least two feet apart, and then he’d mix the fast-setting concrete to secure the poles.
He turned toward the truck, then looked at the poles, before glancing back to where the holes needed to be. The only thing he’d forgotten to purchase was a shovel, and Gary really didn’t want to go back to town.
A shed stood a short distance from the house. It was a long shot, and the odds of a workable shovel slim, but it was worth a look. Old air and dust puffed out at him when he pulled the rickety door open. The shed was loaded, full of old tools, most needing to be thrown away or shown a little tender loving care. He knew how to scrub, how to use linseed oil, but such a job had to be way down on his to-do list. Stay on task, he told himself because really, what a great place to explore.
He’d been right to take a chance.
He spotted a vintage metal collapsible shovel in fairly good condition. He bent to pull it from under an old wooden table when he saw what was next to it.
A rifle. Old, with yellow on the handle.
Carefully, Gary moved the few things that were on top of it and freed it. Letting out a whistle, he tried to figure just what he’d stumbled across, but the only window in the shed had long ago ceased letting light in thanks to the dirt and spiderwebs.
Gary stood, aiming the rifle muzzle down. He doubted, even if it were loaded, that it could fire, but firearm safety had been ingrained during his stint in the military. Outside, he heard an engine taper off and the sound of a car door slamming.
He pushed open the shed door with his butt and stepped outside, assuming he’d greet Oscar, who must have forgotten something.
Instead, Officer Leann Bailey stopped just twenty feet from him, surprise quickly switching to annoyance on her face. She whipped her gun from its holster, took a solid stance and said, “Put the rifle on the ground, kick it out of reach and put your hands in the air.”
That’s when he remembered the weapon in his hands. Not the best way to greet a cop you wanted to impress.
She sure did turn up at the most inopportune times.