Chapter 29

Steele marched to the front desk in the Blood Gorge sheriff’s office and scowled at the seated officer. “I’d like to see Deputy Sheriff Millwater.”

“What’s your business?”

“I’m a private investigator and need to talk to him about a case I’m working on in Cactus Point.”

“What case?”

“Well, actually two cases.”

“What are they?”

“That’s between me and the deputy sheriff.”

“If you wanna be a hard ass, you ain’t gonna see him.”

“Then I’ll drive to Bisbee and talk to his boss. The real sheriff. I’m sure he’ll want to know how cooperative his deputies are.”

The officer jumped up from his seat. “Now look here!”

“No, you look here.” Steele placed both hands flat on the desk and leaned forward. Their noses were inches apart. “I have the right to see the deputy sheriff. He’s a public servant. You either let me through or I go to Bisbee and tell the sheriff how useless you sons of bitches are in this shithole.”

The officer jumped back. He bumped into his chair and stumbled, catching the arm and somehow managing to remain on his feet. “Are you threatening me?”

“I’m telling you like it is.”

“Wait right here.”

The officer shoved his chair out of the way and stormed to Deputy Sheriff Millwater’s office. He ducked inside. Steele heard loud voices that he couldn’t understand, but several officers sitting outside the office stopped what they were doing and looked that way. Soon the front desk officer reappeared and double-timed it back.

“Deputy Sheriff Millwater will see you now,” the officer said.

He remained standing as Steele walked past him. In the back area, several officers followed Steele with their eyes as he strolled to Deputy Sheriff Millwater’s office. Although the door was open, Steele stopped at the threshold and knocked on the door jamb. Millwater was already staring at him.

“Come in,” the deputy sheriff said.

Steele took a step into the office and closed the door behind him. Millwater noticed and sat up stiffer. Steele sat in a visitor chair on the opposite side of the desk from the deputy sheriff.

“So what’s so fuckin’ important?” Millwater said.

“Pete Bargas didn’t do it.”

“Like hell he didn’t.”

“You need to reopen the case.”

“Bullshit! The Bargas boy did it. The case is closed.”

“And you need help. The FBI.”

The deputy sheriff slapped his desk with both hands and stood partway up, leaning forward over his desk. “Who the hell are you to tell me what to do? The case is closed.”

“And when you call the FBI—”

“I’m not calling the fuckin’ FBI.”

“They’re going to wonder why evidence is missing. And why the police report is missing information.”

The deputy sheriff sat back down and fidgeted in his chair. His eyes roamed around the room, looking everywhere except at Steele. Then they settled on him.

“It’s an open and shut case,” Millwater said.

“It’s not in the least. Pete Bargas did not have a motive.”

“Then he went crazy. Who knows why he did it? Crazy kids shoot up schools all the time nowadays.”

“He didn’t have the skills to do the shooting. I don’t think he ever fired a semi-automatic pistol in his life.”

“You don’t think. Maybe he did in secret.”

“Cactus Point is a small town. There are no secrets. You should know that.”

“What I know is that the witnesses identified the shooter as Pete Bargas.”

“They identified what he looked like.”

“And that’s how we found him. Dressed like that. At the scene. With the gun. The gun that Ballistics said killed everyone. You can make up any story you want, but that won’t change anything. Pete Bargas did it.”

Steele steepled his fingers and rested his chin on them. “You know, I was looking for someone the other day. When I saw him sanding a wooden table leg I was sure it was him. He was wearing goggles to protect his eyes and a respirator mask carpenters wear to keep from breathing in the sawdust. I was sure it was him. However, when he took the mask and goggles off, he didn’t look anything like the person I thought he was.”

The deputy sheriff squirmed in his chair. His hands squeezed the chair arms. “So what?”

“So the shooter’s face was covered.”

“But we found him there. When we uncovered his face, it was Pete Bargas.”

“I don’t have all the answers yet, but I will. I promise you that.”

“You won’t find shit. Pete Bargas did it.”

Steele shifted in his chair and cracked his knuckles. “What about Tiffany Alcox?”

Deputy Sheriff Millwater’s eyes got wide. His skin paled. “Who?”

“Tiffany Alcox.”

“What is it to you?”

“Her mother asked me to help find her.”

Once again, the deputy sheriff’s eyes looked away from Steele. This time for a longer amount of time before returning to him. “We’re working on it.”

“What’s the status?”

“None of your business.”

“Her mother made it my business.”

Millwater bit his lower lip and glowered at Steele. “No leads yet. She vanished into thin air.”

“Did you call the FBI?”

“What for? For a missing person?”

“For a kidnapping.”

“Who said she was kidnapped?”

“Because she’s not the type to run away.”

“And Pete Bargas doesn’t have the skills to shoot people. Yadda yadda yadda. You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

“I’m simply asking what the status of the Tiffany Alcox missing person case is.”

“Ongoing.”

Steele waited for more. The deputy sheriff sat back and crossed his arms and glared at Steele.

“That’s it?” Steele said.

“That’s it.”

Steele stood up and walked to the door. He opened it and turned toward Millwater. “When I find out what happened, you’re going down.”

Steele left the deputy sheriff’s office and marched out of the building without making eye contact with anyone, especially the officer manning the front desk. He got into his car and sat slumped down in the driver’s seat with an eye on the front entrance and also the lot where the patrol vehicles were parked. Millwater had looked nervous. Unsettled. Maybe he simply didn’t like being questioned. Maybe he knew he was incompetent and didn’t like it to be known. But maybe there was more.

Steele waited.

About ten minutes later, Deputy Sheriff Millwater stormed out of the side door that led to the parking lot. He rushed to a civilian car and took off. Steele followed him. One nice thing about the rental car was that it blended in. Millwater drove to a residential area and pulled into a driveway and ran into the house. Steele stopped at the curb a safe distance away and waited. Soon Millwater returned, no longer in his deputy sheriff’s uniform. He got into his car, backed out of his driveway, and drove off the way he had come. Steele ducked down out of sight inside his car.

Steele heard Millwater’s car whiz by. He rose up and peeked through the side window. It was clear so he made a U-turn and followed Millwater’s car. The deputy sheriff drove out of town heading south. Soon they were at the border crossing to Mexico. Steele wasn’t pleased that his ankle gun was in the glove compartment, but he passed through with nothing more than a nod when he flashed his passport and said he was visiting the area.

The traffic on the Mexican side was heavy so Steele had to jockey around cars not to lose Millwater. But after a few turns onto less traveled roads the traffic thinned. And after a few more turns, there were no other cars on the road. That made it harder to follow Millwater undetected. Steele stayed so far back that Millwater’s car was no more than a spec in the distance. And then Steele saw the sign to Diablo del Norte. That was odd. It was the town Maria Lopez’s father was mayor of.

But Millwater took a turn that led away from town that became a dirt road. Steele kept as far back as he could and still see the small dot of the deputy sheriff’s car on the horizon. When the road bent around a large outcropping, the car disappeared. Steele gunned his engine and roared down the dirt road. When he passed the outcropping, he saw a massive two-story structure far in the distance. In the middle of nowhere. Like a mirage.

Steele slammed on his brakes. The back of the car spun out as his car skidded to a screeching stop in a cloud of dust. He threw the car into reverse and floored the gas pedal. The tires spun on the dirt road, spitting pebbles, and then his car lurched backward behind the cover of the large rocks.

Steele leapt from his car and rushed to the rock formation that was fronted by several Palo Verde trees that provided additional concealment as well as shade. He hugged a huge boulder as he peered around it. The two-story structure was around two hundred yards away and the deputy sheriff was headed right toward it. Steele regretted not having the binoculars he kept in the glove compartment of his car back home.