LITMIR.BIZ

       Chapter 3

      One thing about mountain roads, they made it relatively easy to follow somebody without having to get too close. He was able to stay a nice comfortable mile behind the Mustang without losing it as she covered the steep inclines and declines that the Rockies were known for.

      Felt justified when he saw her breeze past the grocery store that was on the edge of town. He’d been right. Shopping wasn’t her priority. But then he quickly got frustrated as he lost her for just a few minutes once she got into the guts of Moreville, a town of maybe fifteen thousand. But he persisted, traveling the five-block business section, the side streets leading off the main street and then finally the perimeter of the town. That’s where he found her. At the Wagon Wheel Delight.

      He saw some wagon wheels propped up next to the side of the office, but he didn’t see anything delightful. Other than her cute little Mustang. Which was parked but empty. There was no sign of her or the child. He suspected they were already in a room. He could go knocking on doors. He looked at Lucky. “I think we should just wait.”

      The dog blinked but offered up no argument. Put his head in Rico’s lap so that Rico could scratch behind his ears.

      He had calls to make anyway. He pressed a button on his phone.

      “Rico,” his mom said. “How is the poor ankle?”

      Those had been the first words out of his mother’s mouth every time he talked to her since his injury. “It’s good. Almost healed,” he said. “How’s Dad?” His father had been suffering with chest pains, which he claimed were indigestion but Rico was worried. He wanted to send him to one of the premier heart doctors in the United States, but his dad wasn’t having it. So instead, Rico gave Nathan, his sister’s seventeen-year-old son, a weekly allowance to make sure that he checked in on his grandfather daily. Nathan had also been responsible for all the lawn mowing this past summer and would do all the snow shoveling this winter. He gave some cash also to Aleja, his sister’s thirteen-year-old daughter, to make sure that his mother wasn’t lonely.

      “He’s ornery,” his mom said. “And worried about the early snow that’s coming. But Nathan stopped by and they’re playing checkers. Aleja is coming later and we’re baking a cake.”

      Excellent. His nephew and niece were good kids who would probably do the right thing for their grandparents anyway, but he didn’t like leaving things to chance. And his dad was right to be worried about the snow. Rico had checked the weather before leaving Vegas. Only a fool drove into the mountains in October without doing that. Snow was definitely coming to Colorado and he’d packed accordingly. As long as he was here in Moreville, he would stock up with extra food just in case.

      “What are you up to?” his mother asked.

      “Not much. Giving the ankle a rest,” he said. He felt badly about lying to his mother. He was less than an hour away from their small house where they’d lived since retiring three years earlier. But if they knew that he was at the cabin, they would be hurt if he didn’t visit. And right now, he wasn’t up to a fight with his sister, who lived next door to his parents. She was angry with him because he wouldn’t help her lazy husband.

      “You help everyone,” she’d yelled the last time. “But you won’t help him.”

      He helped people who couldn’t help themselves. People who were sick, like Georgina Fodder who was fighting a hell of a battle with cancer.

      Charro’s husband, Peter, was just the opposite. He was healthy, had some skills, could work and simply chose not to. Charro had been supporting her family for years, and it was time for her to dump the freeloader.

      Demonstrating tough love, however, was tough. And he did not want Charro’s children to suffer, which was why the extra money to Nathan and Aleja worked out nicely for everyone.

      “Stay inside when the weather gets bad,” he said.

      “We will. I’ve already been to the store. We’ll have no reason to go anywhere.”

      He ended the call and stared at the hotel, trying to imagine what Laura and the child were doing in their room. He’d seen the inside of hotels like this and, quite frankly, they generally weren’t that nice. His cabin was better.

      He picked up his phone again and dialed. Thought it was going to flip over to voice mail but was answered on the fourth ring.

      “Rico Metez. I heard you mixed it up with a boat and the boat won.” Bobby Bayleaf was a twenty-year veteran of the Las Vegas Police Department who didn’t take crap from anyone. He’d been his partner Seth Pike’s best friend since they’d been kids. Seth had introduced Bobby and Rico a couple years ago. Now all three of them played volleyball in the same league.

      “But I got a couple good punches in,” Rico said.

      “That’s my boy. All better now?”

      “Getting there. I’m working on something and could use a little assistance off the record.”

      “I’m listening.”

      Bobby generally played by the rules. He wouldn’t agree to anything until he knew what the request was.

      “Just need a plate run. State of Tennessee.” Rico had taken the time to enter the plate in his phone but didn’t need that now. He was close enough to read it. He rattled it off to Bobby.

      There was a pause. Then Bobby spoke. “Registered to a Clovis Trane. Lives in Nashville, Tennessee. Same address for years.”

      Clovis Trane. “Is there a Laura Trane?” he asked, hating the sound of that.

      “Not seeing any Laura. Looks like there was a Melissa Trane on the registration at some point but dropped off a few years ago.”

      Melissa Trane. Where had he heard that name recently? Then it came to him. The home health worker taking care of Georgina Fodder. Suddenly things made more sense. Laura would not have needed to break in if she’d gotten the code from Melissa, who’d somehow gotten it from Georgina. But Melissa was no longer on the registration. “Maybe a divorce?” he asked.

      “Death or divorce. That’s usually the reason somebody drops off.”

      Melissa Trane wasn’t dead but he didn’t say anything. He now had more information but he really didn’t know

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