Steven Havill - The Fourth Time is Murder

“I don’t think Judge Hobart is deflectable,” Estelle said. “It’s in his hands, not ours. Anyway, as far as Dennis is concerned, the sheriff has a new training program in the works. I think it’s the right thing to do. Much more stringent qualifications for all of us.”

“I heard about that. It’s going to cost us some money, but I think it’s worth it, and a wonderful , proactive notion. I tried to explain that to Mr . Parker, but it went in one ear and out the other. Anyway, to make a long story short, he’s threatening to sue us, for what, I don’t know. He made it an ultimatum, and that’s when I lost my patience, I’m afraid. He’ll probably call you, too, and I wanted you to hear it from the horse’s mouth…what I told him, I mean.”

“And what’s that, Leona?”

“I told him in no uncertain terms that it was going to be wonderfully entertaining watching this whole mess unfold in public court. I said we’ve needed to bring this underage drinking thing out in the open for a long time, and then I told him that I hoped he had a really good lawyer, because we do. A drunken young man throwing a full bottle of beer at an officer and damaging government property, and the officer injured by flying glass? My goodness.”

The glass chip did draw a speck of blood, Estelle thought, but she didn’t interrupt Leona’s roll.

“ And selling liquor to minors, and on and on,” Leona continued. “Probably more than that. I was really wound up. I told him that it was going to be fun.” She sniffed. “I think at the moment I’m feeling a little ashamed of myself for losing my temper.”

“Some people bring out the best in all of us, Leona. What did Parker say to all this?”

“Well, now he’s angry with me, which is probably a good thing,” Leona laughed. “He hung up on me when I said, ‘Well, why don’t you sue me , then. Let’s just sue everyone, while we’re at it, if that’s the only way you can figure out how to make a living.’ I probably shouldn’t have been so melodramatic, but there it is.”

“He’ll get over it,” Estelle said. “His son will get a slap on the wrist, maybe a little bit of probation, and that’ll be it, unless Hobart’s in a really foul mood.”

“Except for the repair of the vehicle,” Leona said. “I plan to pursue that if Judge Hobart doesn’t order restitution. Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that I’m his latest target, so not to worry.”

“Thanks, Leona. I wasn’t worried, but I’m glad that things will work out. For Dennis’ sake.”

“He’ll be the better police officer for it,” Leona said. Her voice took on a more serious tone. “He wasn’t even scheduled to work, was he? I mean, when the incident happened?”

“No. He was finishing up some paperwork at the end of a long day. He took the call as a matter of convenience. He was headed home that way, and no one else was close. He volunteered, and I okayed it. So chalk it up to my mistake. I was tired, but I knew that he was, too. I let him go anyway. But at that moment, with the situation as it was, it seemed the expedient solution.”

“Oh my. We are sooooo shorthanded, aren’t we,” Leona said. “Well, that’s one of my priorities. We’re going to do something about that. But you’re busy, and I’m rambling. Are we making progress with that horrible truck crash situation?”

“‘Progress’ may be too optimistic a word, Leona.” She glanced at the shop, but Danny Rivera had disappeared inside.

“Well, that’s my nature, dear. If there’s anything I can do to facilitate, let me know.”

“I will, Leona. Thanks for all you do.”

“Is that wonderful magazine reporter with you yet?”

“She is.”

“I look forward to having the chance to visit with her, if she wants.”

“I’m sure she will, Leona. I’ll tell her you called.”

“Thanks so much. Well, I’m out of your hair now. Ta, dear.” The phone went dead, and Estelle laughed.

“Our county manager,” she said to Madelyn. “She’s one of a kind. She wants to talk with you sometime.”

“She’s on my list,” Madelyn said. “I’ve heard so many different stories, I don’t know what to expect.”

“Expect a charming interview,” Estelle said. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

The sun was already baking the gravel in front of the shop as Estelle walked away from the car. As she neared the shop, she could smell the tang of hot steel. By afternoon, the uninsulated building would be toasty warm, as the February sun baked the expanse of roof and wall. She paused in the doorway. Off to the left, a huge red four-wheel-drive pickup rested on blocks, parts from its brakes and wheel hubs laid neatly on clean rags. A quick glance around the shop revealed another older truck with all of its guts removed, various collections of parts here and there, and, incongruously, a slick fiberglass bass boat on a new, white trailer. The cowling had been removed from the massive outboard motor on the boat’s transom.

“We can get that oil changed while you’re here,” Danny said cheerfully. “County ain’t too good at keepin’ up with maintenance. I know that for a fact.”

“That’s true,” Estelle said. She stepped carefully toward the four-by-four, mindful of the litter of tools and cords on the floor. Toward the back of the shop was an impressive collection of tires. Three of them were spread out on the floor, and Irene Salas turned from her inspection of them.

Estelle wound her way through the litter, and Irene Salas approached to greet her. Stout-framed and athletic, Irene had poured herself into fresh blue jeans and a denim shirt whose tails were tied at her waist. “Irene, welcome home. I was just over talking with your grandmother, and she said you were visiting.”

“Hi,” Irene said, clearly confused, even a bit guarded.

“The last time I saw you, you were about like this,” Estelle said, indicating a small child. “I’m Estelle Guzman.”

A flare of recognition touched Irene’s eyes. “Grandma Serafina talks about you all the time,” she said, and smiled warmly. “I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you when you drove up. That sun’s so bright. You’re sheriff now?”

“Undersheriff,” Estelle said. “Bobby Torrez is sheriff. Remember him?”

“The big scary guy who looks like he belongs in the movies…wow.”

Estelle laughed. “That would be the one. Your grandmother is thrilled that you came over. Are you here for the anniversary?”

“Isn’t that great?” Irene replied. “They’re so cute,” and she looked affectionately at Danny Rivera. “I can’t even imagine seventy-five years together.”

“That’s a long, long time. Irene, your grandma said you’re a junior now?”

“I’ll be a senior this fall.” She beamed. “ Two more semesters and I get to be unemployed.”

“There’s always grad school,” Danny offered.

“Yeah, well,” Irene said. “There is. But I’m not sure yet.”

“What are you majoring in?” Estelle asked.

“Anthropology,” Irene said. “I think . It’s much, much harder than I thought, especially now that we’re into statistics and all that sort of thing. But I’m loving it…well, most of it, so it’ll work out.”

“That’s an interesting road,” Estelle agreed. “When you’re finished, you’re headed off to Africa or Peru, or someplace like that?”

“Actually, I don’t have to travel that far,” Irene laughed. “I’m really drawn to the border country.” She turned to look at Danny Rivera with undisguised affection. “People like Fernando and Maria? My grandma? I can’t even imagine what this country was like when they were young. No pavement, no RVs pouring through, no fence ,” and she looked out the shop door. “Only the iglesia is the same.”