Wild Penance

32

At dawn the next morning, Holy Thursday, I completed an uneventful shift. Roy had assigned Art, the BLM ranger from the Taos Field Office, to team with me in my section. We had spent the entire night in sight of one another, and I was grateful for the company and the extra protection. After we had put the horses in the stalls and dropped the truck and trailer at the ranger station in Peñasco, Art left to go home and get some rest. I was getting ready to load my gear into my Jeep and do the same when Kerry drove up.

“I missed you the other night,” he said. “Are you feeling better?”

“Yes, I am, thanks. Sorry to let you down. It must have been something I… imbibed.”

He smiled. “That’s an interesting way to put it. But don’t worry, you didn’t let me down. It has been quiet up here for a few days now. No more fence cutting, no more signs of trespassing. Want to go and get some breakfast after I check in my gear?”

“Sure.”

In less than a minute, Kerry came back out the door of the station and strode toward me in a hurry. “Jump in my truck. We’re going down to Suazo’s place.”

“Why, what’s up?” I closed the Jeep’s hatch and locked it.

“The dispatcher said Suazo’s wife called the sheriff’s office to report him missing. They said she asked for you and ‘that forest ranger’ to come talk with her.” He handed me a message slip. “And that’s from your office in Taos. I guess she tried to reach you there, too. They relayed the message up here for you.”

“Well, that’s interesting. I was just wondering about Santiago Suazo myself.” I got in the truck and we lumbered down the slope in low gear.

“It can’t be such a big deal that he’s missing,” Kerry said. “She said he always goes off when he has money, and she told us he had money.”

“Yeah, I hear you. And what is this-Thursday morning? I saw him Monday in town, and he was definitely loaded, in more ways than one. We had a little altercation.” I reached for the radio.

His hand caught mine before I could turn it on. “An altercation? Why didn’t you tell me about that?”

“I saw his truck at El Toro. I went in to ask him what he had been doing up around Boscaje, where you had seen his truck those two times. I was just going to talk to him, but he blew up and started hurling insults, and even made an implied threat. I went after him, and he took a swing at me.”

“You went after him?”

“Well, at first I just tapped his shoulder to get him to turn around and talk to me after he had hurled a string of particularly unsavory insults at me at the top of his voice in the restaurant. But after he tried to slug me, I pinned him up against his truck. I tried to get him to say what he’s been doing up here in this area. But he wouldn’t say. Just kept threatening me and insulting me for being a woman. It sounds weird, but even though he was acting like the same little banty rooster we know, it was almost like he was scared of something.”

Kerry looked at me, incredulous. “Hey, whether they’re scared or not, if you plan to wrestle with the bad guys and don’t want backup, will you at least give me a shout so I can sell tickets?” His tone was angry.

“It wasn’t like I planned it. You weren’t around. I was on my way in to the BLM and I saw his truck. We haven’t been able to catch him sitting still, so I took advantage of the opportunity. Luckily, it played out better than it might have. A couple people I know pulled up and it ended peacefully. Suazo saw his moment and bailed. Unfortunately, though, I never got any information from him.”

“All right, but can I just ask you something?”

“Sure. What is it?”

“Is something going on with you that I ought to know about?”

I didn’t look at him. Suddenly, my face felt hot and I noticed I was clenching my jaw.

He didn’t wait for me to answer. “The other night, Roy asked me to go check on you. Then last night, he doubled you up with the BLM ranger. It’s almost like he thinks you need protection.”

I thought about denying that anything was wrong, but I couldn’t do that. It would have been lying, and I didn’t want to lie to him. “I can’t talk about it,” I said.

He kept his eyes on the road, but he raised his eyebrows. “You can’t talk about it?”

“No, I’m sorry. I really wish I could tell you, but I can’t.”

He drove a minute or so in silence. “Well, can you at least answer my question? Do you need protection?”

I took a deep breath in and slowly let it out. “I don’t know.”

Kerry shook his head. “What kind of answer is that?”

“It’s… it’s about a case I’m involved in. I really can’t talk about it.”

He gave an exasperated sigh. “Listen, you said the thing with Suazo happened on Monday. We worked together that night. Why didn’t you tell me about it?”

So much had happened, I had to think back. “Monday night was when you checked on me at my base camp. As I recall, we didn’t talk much while you were there.” I looked across the cab at him, studying his profile, remembering the warmth of that kiss.

He turned and caught me staring at him and smiled. “No, I guess we didn’t.”

Mrs. Suazo was feeding two little kittens when we drove up. She looked a lot better than the last time we had seen her. Her hair was clean and loose around her face. She was wearing a navy dress with flowers on it, a cardigan sweater, and white cotton socks folded over the tops of some new-looking boots. The porch had been swept and the cat litter raked away. She looked up at us expectantly, and then, seeing the Forest Service truck, her look moved rapidly through disappointment and into an expression of hurried anxiety. She moved quickly to put the lid on the tin container of cat food, brushed her hands on her skirt, and then, catching herself, rubbed them back and forth on each other. She hurried off the porch and almost made it to the truck before we could open our doors. Something was missing… Right! Where were the dogs?

“I thought you might have been him,” she said, taking hold of the handle and yanking the passenger door back as if to hasten me out. “I ain’t seen him in two days. Something has happened to him.” Her brow was like a plowed field. “I can’t get the sheriff to listen to me.”

Kerry and I got out of the truck. I looked around the place, then spoke. “Well, Mrs. Suazo, when we talked to you before, you did say he is sometimes gone for days at a time.” I didn’t know how to put it any more kindly.

She stopped the frenzied pressure of her approach when I said this-it seemed to affect her like a red light does traffic. “Well, you’re right. I did say that. And he does do that. I reckon you’re right.” She twisted at the ends of her sweater. Then she looked into my face. The bruise under her right eye had turned yellow and was fading. “Would you just believe me when I tell you that this time it’s different?” Her tone was flat, but her look was pleading.

By this time, Kerry had come around the truck and was behind her. He moved to the side so she could see him when he spoke. “Mrs. Suazo, why don’t you tell us what you know, and we’ll see if there is anything we can do to help.”

She turned toward him. “He came home Monday in the middle of the day and said we needed to leave town.”

I glanced at Kerry. Our eyes met, but neither of us spoke.

“He promised to take me back home to Texas. He said he would take the dogs to his cousin and sell or give away whatever we didn’t want to take with us. We started right then going through stuff. I knew he really meant it, because that evening, he took the dogs and told me to keep packing things. He kept saying we were going to make a brand-new start, and we were going to be happy again. When he came back, three of his cousins followed him in their trucks and they went through our stuff and took a lot of it and gave us some money for some of the things, like the TV and such. Listen, I know the sheriff don’t believe me, but this time it’s different. Santiago never went through giving stuff away or selling it off like that before. And he wouldn’t never have gave those dogs up if he didn’t mean to do what he said.”

“What happened after his cousins came?” Kerry said.

“He said he wanted to get out of here the next day, if we could get our packing done. We worked right on up until late that night. The next morning we got up and started in packing again. By a little after noon, we were done. Santiago went to get gas in the truck, and we was going to load it up when he got back and then get on down the road. But he never come back.”

“He was just going to go get gas in the truck?” I asked.

“That and pick up the rest of the money he was owed for something. He said it was all set up and it wouldn’t take long.”

“Do you know who he was meeting for the money, or what it was for?” Kerry said.

“I don’t know nothing about that. Santiago never tells me nothing about his business. But he said it was all set, and he just needed to go get it. And then he was going to get some gas, like I said.”

“And that was Tuesday?” I asked.

“Yes. Two days ago. I know I told you he goes off for days sometimes, but he don’t never give away his dogs and sell the TV and tell me he’s taking me back to Texas. This time, it’s different.” She was quiet for a few seconds, as if she was thinking over the events of the past few days. Then she said, “I don’t know if it’s got anything to do with it, but I think I better show you what I found out here in the shed.”

Kerry and I pulled up to my vehicle. He looked at me. “I’m worried about you. Why not come to my place? I can roll out a bedroll on the floor. You can have the bed. Just until we know that you are safe again.”

“I can’t. But I need your help.”

“Just name it.”

“I left something here at the ranger station. It’s in the lockbox where I keep my tack. I put it there yesterday and it was still all right this morning, but it is very important that no one gets to it. I need you to make sure it stays safe.”

“It will be safe there. No one is going to mess with your tack box. The ranger station is staffed all day, and we’ll be back tonight for the next operational period. I’m more concerned about you. Nothing is more important than that.”

“I will be all right. I have a full day, I’ll hardly have a moment alone. I really need you to help me with this. I need what’s in the lockbox to be safe.”

“You put your own lock on it, right? No one else has a key?”

“I locked it, and I put the key in an envelope and put it in your message box. I don’t want you to use the key unless you have to, though. I need you to make sure no one gets in that lockbox.”

“Why? What’s in there?”

“I can’t tell you.”

He slumped. “You don’t trust me.”

“No, I do. That’s why I gave you the key. I do trust you. And I will tell you, when I can. Just-please, can you do what I’m asking? Don’t open the lockbox. And don’t let anyone else open it either.”

“Okay. I’ll stay here today. I’ll guard it with my life. But what about you?”

“No, you can’t be obvious about it. I don’t want anyone to even think there’s anything in there worth guarding. Just watch out for… I don’t know, just check on it every once in a while. Maybe you could take some apples to Redhead late this afternoon, you know, and check on it. Try to watch when things quiet down, when there aren’t so many people around. If anyone knows that it’s there, that’s when they would try to steal it.”

“Well, it’s busy up here all day, but I’ll stay here, too. I can even sleep in the stables right there by the tack boxes. But what about tonight? We have a big night ahead of us.”

“I’ve been thinking about that. They close some of the Forest Service roads, post checkpoints on Holy Thursday, don’t they? Because of the Penitentes?”

He nodded.

“Well, it might be all right then.”

“So you’re not worried that someone from the Forest Service would steal this… this… whatever it is. You’re thinking it would be someone else.”

“Yes, if that someone figures out that it’s there. I would have bet money that person would have been Santiago Suazo. But after what his wife told us, I don’t know. It could be someone he was in cahoots with. It could be anyone.”

“So I’m starting to put a few things together now.”

“I wish I could tell you more, I really do. Now, I’ve got to go. There’s a meeting I have to go to at the BLM. I’m not going to get much sleep before tonight. And tonight, I’ll stay in short range of my base camp if I can. Come get me if anything happens, okay?”

“Sure. I’ll check in on you anyway.”

“Okay, I better go now.” I started to open the door of the truck.

Kerry took hold of my arm. “Wait. I meant to ask you: did you ever look at that photo memory card to see what was on it?”

I felt in my coat pocket. The device Kerry had given me was still there. “No, I forgot about it. I’ll try to take a look at it when I’m at the BLM today. I gotta go.”

His eyes beckoned me. I hesitated. He leaned over and touched his lips to mine. “Please be careful, Jamaica.”