Double Prey (19 page)
“On the Waddell ranch. You’re not willing to speculate on whether the two incidents are related, then.”
“No. We’re not. And I hope you won’t either.”
“News, not speculation and rumor. If something breaks, will you let me know?”
“Absolutely.”
“First?”
Estelle smiled, reached out and shook Frank’s arm gently. “We’ll try, Frank.”
He held up his camera. “I’d like to take a photo of the cave, maybe with you and one of the deputies? Will you do that for me?”
Estelle shook her head. “Not yet, sir. Right now, we need to be a little discreet about this whole thing.”
“Ah, one of those deals. But you’ll let me know? I mean, sooner rather than later?” He glanced at his watch. “I really need to get back to town.”
She nodded. “Thanks for coming out on a Sunday, Frank.” She watched him maneuver his car on the narrow two-track, and as he drove off, she mused at how irritated the newspaper publisher would be when he found out that he’d missed the big headline—that Freddy Romero’s plunge into the arroyo had likely been prompted by an errant rifle bullet.
The rancher looked as if he’d taken the time to drive home to Newton, shave, spit-polish his Tony Lamas, and don fresh western-cut trousers and a white shirt with mother-of-pearl buttons. His silver belt buckle was tarnished and worn just enough to announce that he was no newbie. The purple neckerchief still protected the tender skin at the base of his throat.
He took off his tan Stetson, revealing a thick head of wavy hair held glossily in place. The hat band left a faint dent in the skin of his forehead, and it appeared that over the years Miles Waddell had worked hard to avoid the two-tone tan line that resulted from a life under the sun and under the Stetson.
Estelle motioned to a chair, and the rancher sat down, his movements quick and graceful. The undersheriff closed the door.
“May we get you something, sir? Coffee? Soft drink?”
He waved off the offer. “Not now, thanks. This whole thing has my gut a little upset.” He rested a hand on his trim belly. Estelle caught the faint aroma of his cologne, a fragrance that reminded her of kelp beds along the seashore rather than the high prairie.
She slid a recorder across her desk, stationing it directly in front of Waddell. “Sir, your deposition is important to us. If you don’t mind, I’ll record our conversation, and then when it’s transcribed, you’ll have a chance to read it for accuracy before signing.”
“Fine with me. You got to do these things. I know how the drill goes. Are you going to be reading my rights next?” His crows feet deepened.
“Do I need to, sir?”
“Nope. It’s my land out there, but I sure as hell didn’t put that corpse in that cave.” His grin was tight, his eyes watchful.
“We appreciate your cooperation, sir. I’d like to start with your comments earlier about the identity of the skeleton found in the small cave on your property.”
“Eddie Johns? I think it’s him. I think that’s who it is.” He nodded vigorously.
“And your reasons for believing that?”
Waddell held up a finger. “Number one, like I told you. The holster rig. I’ve seen that often enough. Wish you had the gun.
That
I could positively identify.”
Estelle rose and walked to a locked file cabinet. From the top drawer she pulled a large clear plastic evidence bag that contained the semi-automatic Smith and Wesson recovered from Freddy Romero’s four-wheeler. She handed it to the rancher, whose eyebrows shot up in surprise. “We believe that this automatic was recovered from the same area.” She did not add by whom.
“Well, damn. You
did
find it.” He laid the gun on his lap, smoothing the plastic. “That’s it. Well, now…” and he tipped his head. “I might not be able to
swear
that this belonged to Eddie Johns, but it sure as hell
looks
like the one he had. Carried it all the time. Probably slept with it. These grips look like the ones, the way the rosewood is inlaid into the black rubber like that.” He leaned back away from the gun, as if wanting no further part of it, then held it out to Estelle.
“Other than the pistol and the holster, is there anything else that leads you to believe that the remains are those of Eddie Johns?”
“Not enough left…other than the boot, maybe. That could be his.” He shifted uncomfortably on the wooden chair, taking his weight on his forearms as if he had hemorrhoids. “Isn’t there DNA or something that can tell you?”
“We have to have someone to
match
with the DNA, sir.”
“Ah.” He nodded. “So you got to find DNA that you know is his, and go from there. Match that with whatever you found in the cave.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Look, here’s what bothers me.” He leaned forward and lightly chopped his hand down on the edge of the desk. “Like I told you out at the site, I haven’t seen Eddie Johns for the better part of five years. You know, you asked me earlier about that, and I
did
check my planners. I don’t keep a diary or anything like that, but I jot stuff down. You never know.” He shifted again, and pulled a scrap of paper out of his left breast pocket. He extended the moment of silence by fishing a pair of narrow reading glasses out of a pocket case. “May 28th, 2006. Eddie and me were walkin’ the mesa top. You heard of StarGaze?”
“The astronomy proposal?”
“That’s the one. See, they’re an Aussie company that puts in these tourist-based observatories. I think they have maybe six of ’em so far around the world, different spots. That’s what they call it.
Tourist based
. They put in an observatory, facilities, the whole nine yards. And folks supposedly come to star gaze. The developers are looking for spots where there’s no light pollution. That’s what they call it now, around cities, interstate interchanges, things like that.
Light pollution
. ”
“Posadas County would be a good choice for that.”
“Damn right. And some other things, too. We’re convenient for transportation. Well, sort of convenient. We have a flow of snowbirds comin’ through that probably haven’t even
seen
a real night sky. Easterners, star buffs. Folks like that. Even from down south of the border. There’s lots of tourist money there. We’ve had a few preliminary talks with the Aussies, but nothing definite. For one thing, I was thinking that I don’t really
need
to partner up with some big firm, ‘specially foreigners. I mean, hell, all it takes is money, right?” He shrugged. “I can see a facility right on top of that mesa. Observatory, gift shop, maybe even a restaurant. A star gazers’ recreation area. Maybe even a camp ground. Hell, maybe even one of those little excursion trains.” Waddell leaned back in the chair, spreading his arms wide. “And you got a view of the whole damn universe up there. Every star there is.” He laughed dryly. “We were even talking about a lights-out policy at nine o’clock in the evening…no parking lot vapor lights, no outside lights on the buildings. Something really special. The Aussies have some good ideas, so it might be best after all to go with them.”
“And this is what you and Eddie Johns were talking about the last time you saw him?”
“Yep. And you know, I never should have mentioned the idea to him. Don’t know why I did, except I was so damned excited about the whole notion. But I did, and that’s that. He takes the idea and runs with it. That’s what old Eddie does, you know. He hears an idea he likes, and away we go. Trouble is, I don’t always think much of the direction he takes ’em.” He stroked the top of his hat thoughtfully. “First thing
he
starts to do is talk money, and all these ideas he has about where to get it. See,
he
wasn’t thrilled with workin’ with the Aussies. I don’t know why.” Waddell shot a glance of contrition at Estelle. “That’s where I should have stopped it, sheriff. I should have just told Eddie to go to hell. I mean, I didn’t
ask
him to come in on the deal. He just elbows his way around, you know. Kind of a bully in ways like that.”
“And why didn’t you refuse his offer, sir?”
“Don’t know. For one thing, it wasn’t an
offer
. And you know, sheriff, sometimes he can be an engaging son-of-a-bitch. I don’t like to admit it, but…” Estelle waited patiently. “I’m not too easy with that guy, you know what I mean? Sometimes he’s okay, Eddie is. Sometimes he’s a royal pain the ass. Rubs me the wrong way sometimes. Makes me nervous.”
“There’s reason to be a little afraid of him?”
Waddell frowned. “Don’t know as I’d go that far, but maybe. Anyway, I tried to head him off a little. I told him that the first thing we…
I…
needed to do was create some access, you know. If you can’t get up on top of that mesa, then the whole thing is a pipe dream. So I started with the idea of gradin’ that new road up the side of the mesa. There was an old washed out cattle trail there already, but not enough to be practical. More like a deer or cattle run. Half the time, you couldn’t get up there with the best Jeep.”
“But you and Johns managed on that day? The day five years ago when you and he were on top, talking about the project?”
“Drove some, walked too much. But yeah…we got up there. Eddie drove his big old four-by-four, and it did pretty good.” He frowned. “The trouble was that Eddie had all these ideas where we were going to get funding.” Waddell looked up at Estelle. “And see, that’s what I mean about him. He just
assumed
that he was partnering with me on this. I know, I know. We done a land deal or two together in the past. But he didn’t ask or anything. Just bulldozed in, you know. That kind of got my goat. Eddie was pushy. I mean, sometimes, he was just a nice guy, kinda fun to be with. But when he got ideas, he got pushy. You didn’t agree with him, he got belligerent. He said he could get funding, no problem. But see, I knew what he meant, and didn’t want any part of it.”
“Part of what, sir? What did he mean?”
“Eddie…he had connections, at least he claimed he did. Down south.”
“In Mexico?”
Waddell nodded. “There were some guys that he saw, down south of Juarez.” He held up both hands defensively. “Don’t know ’em, don’t
want
to know ’em. But Eddie was always talkin’ about his big contacts. That’s why he moved to El Paso, you know. ‘
That’s where it’s all happening,’
he liked to say. Now look,
I
know that things didn’t go all that good for him over in Grant County when he worked law over there. I got the impression that he liked seeing that place in his rear view mirror.”
“Do you have a contact in El Paso for him?”
“I had his cell phone around somewhere. Got his email, too. Don’t know what for. I don’t have a computer.”
“We’d like to have that, sir.”
“I’ll find it. I should have thought to bring it with me this time. Don’t have his snail mail address, though. El Paso, is all I know. Or it could be Sunland Park. Somewhere over there.”
“We’ll track that down. Did the two of you discuss how much investment was going to be needed?”
“That irritated the hell out of me. ‘
Don’t worry about that,’
Eddie liked to say. ‘
This is going to be BIG
. ’ That was his favorite line. Gonna be big. Gotta be big. Think big. You know,” and Waddell stroked the brim of his hat again. “I don’t think Eddie spent much time thinking about a little item or two…like, the property on that mesa top is
mine
, not his. He don’t have a share in it. He just
assumed
, you know. Assumed we were going to buddy up.”
“Did he say how he was going to come up with the money?”
“Nothing specific, sheriff. Just his grand, wild schemes. But I can guess where the money would come from, if he managed it.” He rapped the edge of his hat brim against the desk. “And I can guess why they’d want a toehold in the United States.”
“They?”
“You know who I mean. Those Mexican cartels.” He spat out the words as if they were sour, and then ducked his head in apology. “I mean, I have nothing against the Mexicans, most of ’em.”
“You believe that Eddie Johns was involved with the cartels? Or had contacts with them?”
“Wouldn’t be surprised. Seems like that’s the latest fad, right?” Waddell raised a hand in self-defense. “I’m not saying he was. I don’t know for sure. But I can guess. You know, he used to joke about how easy it was to come across the border with just about anything a body could want. ‘
You just got to do it right,’
he’d say.” Waddell shrugged. “I wasn’t interested in that kind of thing, so I tuned him out, mostly. It wasn’t always easy to tell when Eddie was just bullshitting. He did a lot of that, too.”
“But you
are
interested in the observatory idea,” Estelle said.
“Sure. You know, that mesa top isn’t worth a tinker’s damn for ranching. I bought it thinking that someday, the feds were going to do something about the cave complex that’s under there. They have land on the other side of the road, but nothing on my side. You know the air you said was coming out of that little hole in the cave? Well, that’s just one more sign that I’m right. You know how when you drive to the caverns over in Carlsbad, you have to drive
up
on the mesa top? Then you look out on all that country down below? Well, hell, the way I see it, that low country that you’re looking at is on the same level as the bottom floor of the caverns. This mesa is the same thing. I haven’t had it surveyed or anything by geologists, but I figure the mesa top is just the roof of the caverns down underneath. Think about that, sheriff. I haven’t walked every square inch of that mesa, but I’ll bet over the past few years, I’ve found half a dozen vents like that, all spewing out cool air.
Subterranean
air. That’s the sign.”
“Did you ever check that cave yourself? Where we were this morning?”
“Nope. Like I told you earlier, I didn’t know that one was there.”
“But you had someone working from time to time on that little access road to the top.”
Waddell nodded. “Just enough to be able to drive up on top without wrecking the truck. I’m not going to pay for more than that until something firms up. I’ll tell you one thing…this is
slow
business. You think we’re
mañana-
land, you ought to work with the feds and the Aussies.”
“Who did the road work for you?”
“Gus Prescott, most of it. He’s got that old grader of his. For a few days there when he could keep it running, he gouged out that two-track for me. Enough to reach the top, but I’m going to have to have someone come in with some serious equipment to do it right. Put in culverts and the like.”
“That’s tough country.”
“You bet.”
“And a lot of money.”
Waddell huffed agreement. “You’re telling me. I paid Gus a fair lick, but I figure it’s going to cost me fifty grand just to make a quarter mile of safe gravel two-track, and that’s
after
what he did. Maybe more. Sometimes I think that Eddie had the right idea. Capital’s capital. Maybe it doesn’t matter where it comes from.”
“But some years have gone by now,” Estelle pointed out. “You hadn’t heard from Eddie Johns in what, four or five years?”
“At least that. And I haven’t heard much from the Aussies. I don’t know if they lost interest, or what. Maybe Eddie scared ’em off. What I’m figuring to do is talk to the Park Service. I think we could work a partnership. That’d be the way to go.” He put on his hat, and leaned forward. “But now we have this mess to worry about. If it isn’t one thing, it’s another.” He thumped the arm of the chair. “I’ll get that cell phone number and email for you. Sorry I don’t have his address.”