Clark Bush tossed and turned in bed in Fern’s guest room, mind racing and stomach churning. He gave up trying to sleep and swung his feet onto the floor. Glanced at his watch. Eleven p.m.
He slipped on a t shirt and sweat pants and rinsed his face in the bathroom.
A coyote sang an improvised aria in the dry wash near the house. A second animal joined in, followed by others. Sound dogs, some people called them. The name fit to a t, he thought.
He left the bedroom and stood in the hall. The house was quiet except for a clock ticking in the kitchen.
Clark sat at the kitchen table and placed his palms over his eyes. His mother was driving him nuts. Fern was probably out like a light, not losing a wink of sleep over handing her money to a con artist.
It figured she wouldn’t listen to her grown son, even if he ran a successful business and owned his home outright. He had always been distant emotionally from his parents. They hadn’t liked his wife. When Clark got divorced, they couldn’t spare a shred of empathy for him. After his dad died, Fern had sniped at Clark for not being there for his parents, even though they had always been quick to criticize, and seemed just plain unwilling to accept him for who he was.
There may not be much I can do about this. Clark rubbed his arms against the chill in the house. Regardless of their history, he wouldn’t just walk away from his mother and her problems. If her health failed or she got into financial difficulty, he would be the one to take care of her.
A sound behind him made him jump. He turned to see Fern standing in the kitchen doorway, hugging a bathrobe around herself, dark circles under her eyes.
“Mom, you couldn’t sleep either?” Clark stood up and got a glass from the cupboard, and held it under the refrigerator spigot for filtered water.
“That doesn’t work,” Fern said. “It hasn’t worked in years.”
“Why don’t you get it fixed?”
Fern squirmed. “Repairmen are expensive. Everything is. I drink tap water.”
“Mom, we need to talk. What’s going on? What’s the real reason you’ve gotten mixed up with this investment guy?”
Fern sank onto a chair and looked away. “It’s expensive to live here. Property taxes, fixing this and that, utilities, you name it. I have to admit I’m worried about Rod Stone. He really is a nice man, but he avoids my questions. He treats me like a child. He said he has another client in this neighborhood, and I’ve asked him several times who it is, but he changes the subject.”
“Mom, you need to go to the bank in the morning and cancel that check. Just cancel it. If he’s not giving you straight answers, it means he’s hiding something. He’s a crook and he’s after your money. Hell, he’s got your money.” Clark gripped the counter tightly. His forehead dripped sweat and his chest felt tight.
“About that. Rod wanted a cashier’s check, not a regular check. He said I’d start earning interest much quicker that way. I can’t just stop payment on it.”
“Ughh.” Clark dropped onto his butt on the tile floor. Sharp pain radiated down his arm. It felt like a boa constrictor was squeezing around his torso. I’m going to die. Right here and now.
***
Jason’s head snapped back. “What’re you doing here?”
“I’m like a cat with nine lives,” Jack Gallegos said. “Or a zombie. Bounce right back up. You too, it looks like. You managed to escape the long arm of Los Brutos.”
“Yes and no. I can’t believe we run into each other here.”
“We were driving along and there you were. I thought something happened to you in Albuquerque. You wouldn’t return my calls. I’m really sorry about your parents. I’m glad to see you’re in one piece, although you look like you got into it with a Tasmanian devil.”
“I left New Mexico,” Jason said. “Things got bad. First Para’s phone call, then my parents. I saw some guys skulking outside my apartment, so I bailed.”
“I don’t blame you. So you where did you go?”
“L.A. to see my aunt. Big mistake. Para sent people after me. How the bejesus did he find me?” Jason thought it wise to not get into what had happened at his aunt’s house.
“I feel awful about your parents.”
“Me too. It was my fault.” Jason looked away.
“No, it wasn’t. Para’s a fiend. How did you wind up in Tucson?” It occurred to Jack that Jason might not be as innocent as he claimed to be, that he might have had inside knowledge of the bomb in Jack’s apartment or the murder of his partner, Russell Connor.
“Los Brutos showed up in L.A. and I left. Someone ran me off the road near Blythe. My car was totaled, so I hitchhiked here.” Jason wasn’t about to admit stealing a vehicle from a fast food worker.
“Are you hungry? We can stop somewhere,” Jack hoped Jason still had the cell phone with Sonny Para’s voice mail threatening his parents. This tough-looking twenty-year-old might still help bring down the vicious leader of Los Brutos.
“Thanks, but I just ate. I’m blown out. Can you drop me off at a motel? I’ve had a bad night and could use some rest.”
Cait shot a look at Jack. The hitchhiker they had just picked up might disappear again.
“I don’t know Tucson very well, but we’ll find something,” Jack said.
“There’s some motels not too far from where we’re staying,” Cait said. “On Tanque Verde Boulevard.” She looked at Jason in the rear view mirror. “Are you ok? You look like you’re really hurting.”
“I hurt my shoulder in the crash,” Jason managed. “But I’ll be all right.”
“There’s an urgent care place on the way to where we’re staying,” Jack said. “I’ll pay for you to see a doctor.”
Jason rested his head against the seat back. A doctor and some pain pills might help. “I’ll take you up on that.”
Conversation ceased as Cait wended her way through clogged streets to eastbound Tanque Verde Boulevard. A few miles later she spotted an urgent care facility in a shopping center.
Inside the clinic, Jack arranged to pick up the tab for Jason’s treatment. A nurse guided the injured man to a patient room, while Cait and Jack waited up front.
“So how are Clark and his mom?” Cait asked.
Jack’s cell burred and he looked at the number on the screen. “I’m about to find out.”
Cait watched his expression turn gloomy. He hung up and blew out a breath. “Clark had a heart attack. He was calling me from the hospital, where they’re keeping him for a day to run some tests.”
“That’s terrible. Does he need surgery?” Cait had a soft spot for the gemologist, her dad’s longtime friend and business associate.
“It doesn’t sound like it. But his mom has concluded she made a bad decision trusting that investment guy. A little late, I’d say.”
“We’ve got to step in,” Cait said. “We can’t just stand by and let her be defrauded.”
“I agree. Up to now, she wouldn’t listen to her son. Sounds like she’s changed her tune.”
“Let’s go see them. How old is she?” Cait asked.
“In her mid-seventies. Clark mentioned he didn’t get along with his parents when he was growing up,” Jack said. “Maybe he’s reconciling with his mom.”
“Many families have issues,” Cait said. “Although some are a lot more difficult than others.”
“I told Clark we’d stop by this afternoon, either at the hospital if he’s still there, or at his mom’s place.”
Jack looked up as Jason appeared, arm in a sling, a sheaf of papers in his good hand.
“How’d it go?” Jack asked.
“They fixed me up, popped my shoulder back in the joint. That hurt like hell, let me tell you.” Jason looked out a window at the shopping center parking lot full of high-end vehicles, thinking of his options.
One of those choices was ditching this kind-hearted couple and hotwiring a car to get back to New Mexico. Then he nixed that idea. His life was worthless with Sonny Para after him. The best thing to do was to place his trust once more in Detective Gallegos. The man seemed determined to help him and find justice for Jason’s murdered parents.
“Can we stop at a pharmacy? They gave me some prescriptions.” Jason looked at Cait. Good-looking lady, he thought.
“Sure thing,” she said. “I saw one nearby.”
As they drove, Jason looked out the window. “What’re you going to do about Para?”
“I could use some help. Got any ideas?” Jack asked. “Better question is, how bad do you want to see him put in prison?”
“He killed my parents. I want him six feet underground.”
“Do you still have that phone with the threatening message from Para?”
Jason thought for a moment. “You can have it.”
“Good. We’ll get you a motel room and you can rest up. We have to go see someone, then I’ll call you. Still have the same number?” Jack eyed their back-seat passenger.
“Yeh.” Jason waggled his head. “Para‘s a weirdo. Did you know he collects dangerous animals?”
“Like what?” Cait asked.
“Poisonous snakes, mountain lions, bobcats, bears. He’s got Gila monsters too.”
“No kidding.” Cait and Jack looked at each other. “How does he get them?”
“He buys them, I guess. He gives some away to his buddies for target practice.”
“That’s awful.” Cait turned off of Tanque Verde Boulevard and parked by the Catalina Desert Inn. “This place looks nice. What do you think?”
“Fine by me,” Jason said.
Jack walked to the office to reserve a room for Jason, then came back and handed him a key card. “We’ll call you later.”
“Thank you so much,” Jason said. “I’ll be waiting.”