'Just another whore,' Quinones said.
'Something like that.'
'Let's go talk to Staggs,' Quinones said suddenly.
'All three of us?' Dillingham asked.
'Why not?' Quinones answered, his eyes on Clayton. 'We can overwhelm him with our collective charm.'
Clayton wasn't sure if Quinones was simply making a suggestion or pulling rank and taking charge. Was he saying it's time to step aside, boy, you've fucked it up? Or was he just putting out a good idea?
With patient detachment, Quinones waited for a reaction. Since the sergeant hadn't jacked him around for stupidly falling for Staggs's fabrication, Clayton decided it wasn't a slam.
'Me and Dillingham will hold Staggs's hand while you take a crack at him,' he said.
Quinones stood up and dropped some change on the table as a tip. 'So, off we go to Casey's Cozy Cabins. Since you called this little meeting, you get to buy the coffee.'
Clayton peeled off some singles, stuck them under the tab, and followed Quinones and Dillingham out the door.
For two hours they waited vainly for Staggs to show. Dillingham stayed in his unit concealed nearby to block off any retreat in case Staggs drove up and decided to bolt. Clayton and Quinones, who had checked each cabin carefully to make sure no one was about, passed the time in Clayton's unit doing paperwork.
Finished, Quinones dropped his clipboard on the floorboard, put his pen in his shirt pocket and said, 'Let's take a look inside.'
'That's illegal entry,' Clayton replied.
'I'm concerned about Staggs's welfare,' Quinones said.
'His car isn't here, the cabin is locked up, and nobody's around.'
'All the more reason to worry. Could be that Staggs is a victim of a crime. Maybe somebody beat him up, ripped him off, and stole his car. Maybe he's lying inside badly hurt, in need of our assistance.'
'I don't know,' Clayton said, staring at the closed window curtains. He didn't need to make another dumb blunder.
'Don't you want to know if Staggs really duped us?' Quinones asked, reaching for the radio microphone.
Clayton laughed and opened the door. 'Yeah, I do.'
Quinones gave Dillingham a heads up on the plan, followed Clayton to the cabin, kicked in the front door right above the lock set, and went in first. The place was empty, but Staggs had cleaned out his clothes, all his small personal possessions, and whatever cash he had on hand. They found no papers or documents of any value.
While Quinones kept searching Clayton punched the last-number-called buttons on the telephone, jotted down the information and ran it. It came back listed to the El Paso company owned by Luis Rojas. He told Quinones.
'Well, well,' Quinones said, 'duped we were, so it seems. I'll fill Hewitt in, and let him know you're heading to El Paso.'
'Thanks.'
'Hey, Clayton.'
At the door Clayton paused and looked back. 'Yeah, Sarge.'
'This is a mother of an investigation. You nail the perp's ass and believe me nobody's gonna sweat the small stuff. Talk to Captain Vincent Calabaza with the El Paso PD before you go to see Rojas. He's an old friend of mine. Maybe he can give you some inside skinny on the guy. I'll let him know you're coming.'
Clayton felt himself loosen up. A grin spread across his face as he waved good-bye to Quinones.
Harry Staggs was petrified, almost unable to speak in complete sentences. Sitting in Luis Rojas's living room, he got the story out in spurts, telling him about Ulibarri's murder, the police SWAT team, and his interrogation by the local sheriff and the sidekick Indian deputy.
While Staggs gulped and talked Rojas asked no questions, made no comments, showed no sign of annoyance. He sat on a pale green couch and listened thoughtfully, occasionally lifting his hand to brush an imaginary stray hair away from his forehead.
Seconds ticked off in silence after Staggs concluded his monologue. Desperate for a reaction, he said, 'What d'ya think?'
Rojas decided it wasn't a stray hair on his forehead, it was an itch. He scratched it. 'Ingenious,' he said, 'but it would have been better if you'd left the girl out of the story.'
'I was thinking on my feet,' Staggs replied, 'trying to cover for you.'
Rojas smiled at the stupid little man who had told the police too much. He stood up and patted his flat stomach. At six two and two hundred pounds, he still had the body of the wide receiver he'd been in college, although he'd lost a step or two over the years. 'I appreciate that,' he said. 'Would you like a drink?'
Staggs nodded and felt some of his apprehension fade. Maybe Rojas wasn't gonna grind him up and feed him to the dogs after all. 'Yeah, Scotch, neat.'
Rojas poured two drinks at the built-in bar and brought one to Staggs. 'The police already know that I was gambling at your place, and that I was in my office at the time of the murder, so there's nothing to worry about.'
'Except I'm out of business,' Staggs said after he knocked back the Scotch, 'and it's gonna take me a while to sell the cabins and get the money I need to relocate permanently and set up shop again. By that time, I'll have lost all my regulars.'
'Are you going back to Ruidoso?'
'Not a chance,' Staggs replied. 'I gave my lawyer a power of attorney to handle the property sale. He says it's best if I don't show my face around there again. The cops would be all over me.'
'Can you trust him?' Rojas asked as he poured Staggs another shot.
'As much as you can any lawyer. I get to review and approve any offers before he can close the deal.'
'That's smart,' Rojas said, returning to the couch. 'Did you tell him where you were going today?'
'Nope.'
'Why don't you set up shop here, in El Paso? The Indian casino outside of the city is starting to draw a lot of high rollers. I'm sure many of them would find their way to you, once the word got out.'
'Like I said, it takes money.'
'Let me help you with a loan. When you sell your property, you can pay me back the principal with no interest.'
'We're talking two hundred fifty thousand, minimum.'
'I'll still come out ahead,' Rojas said with a shrug. 'Some of your customers are going to want some female companionship, right?'
Staggs smiled. 'Like always.'
'So, let's do it.'
'That's damn good of you, Mr. Rojas.'
Rojas raised his glass. 'Then it's settled. Do you need a place to stay?'
'I thought I'd get a motel room for the night.'
Rojas shook his head. 'That won't do for my newest business partner. I've got a nice house that isn't being used in a good neighborhood in Juarez. You can stay there until you get settled. It's fully furnished and supplied. I'll have Fidel drive you there in your car, so you don't get lost. In the morning, we can talk again to finalize things.'
Staggs got a little leery, wondering who the fuck Fidel was. 'You don't have to go to any trouble on my account.'
'It's no trouble,' Rojas said, reaching for the telephone.
He asked Fidel to come to the living room and in less than a minute a well-groomed, smiling, skinny kid no more than twenty years old arrived. Staggs stopped feeling wary. Polite introductions were made, Fidel was given his assignment, and Rojas said good night.
In the car, Staggs asked Fidel if he was from Mexico.
Fidel smiled at the question. 'Nope, born and raised in El Paso.'
'What do you do for Rojas?' Staggs asked.
'I'm an errand boy, mostly,' Fidel replied. 'I pick up his laundry, get his cars serviced, take him to the airport
