“One murdered, shot from the front and exiting the back.”
“I’m guessing a nine mil or thirty-eight, maybe a .357, nothing larger or smaller, judging from the holes. Then whoever it was that closed the trunk on them knew the others would drown. Those are some bad dudes.”
Hunter walked to the trunk and used the water hose to spray the frozen section, but didn’t melt it to any significant degree. It would take time, and the summer’s heat. She said to Carlo, “No bullet recovery unless we find where he was shot. The shooter killed him while they were in the trunk, but there’s nothing else here that we can find, until the rest of it melts.”
“Cold blooded,” Bobby said.
“No duh,” Buddy said.
Brandi said, “I’m going home, maybe cry a little for whoever these people are. Buddy, I hope you’ll pick up something to eat this evening because I don’t feel like cooking.”
Buddy nodded, then said to Carlo and Hunter, “You mind if I leave with her?”
Carlo said, “Go ahead. Santino, Bobby, you guys can leave, too. Mil gracias.”
“Glad we could help,” Santino said. They drove off in the water buffalo, and other than the occasional car on the road, the area was silent. Vehicle activity and people could be heard at the Starlight Theater in town, but the noise was faint because of the distance.
“What else you need to do here?” Hunter said. “If you’ll help me pick up the tarps and put them in front of the Ford, I’ll close the trunk and leave for the state’s forensic team out of Midland. I’ll call them when I leave here, and they’ll be out tomorrow.” They moved the tarps one at a time and put the wrapped human remains close together in front of the vehicle, then Carlo pushed down the trunk, which closed with a click. The buckets with the fluid they moved next to the Ford. Both checked around for anything else, but the site was clean.
“You need me for anything else?”
“Nope. Thanks for the help.”
The events of the day weighed on Hunter’s mind as she drove to Marfa, and she spent an hour at the station writing up the report before going home. With it still on her mind, Hunter changed into shorts, a sports bra, a baggy, black tee shirt, and her New Balance running shoes and left her home for a run going on the access road by the railroad tracks that led to the cemetery and beyond. She felt the kinks work out of her mind at the third mile, so turned and made the slow return jog at a twelve-minutes-per-mile pace to her home on Plateau Street.
Afterward, she showered and dressed in Wranglers, roper boots and a pale blue western shirt made by Ely. She put on her Stetson as she went out the door and drove to the Paisano Hotel and Jett’s Grill where she could relax, eat, and drink a glass of wine or two at the outside eating area so the night sky and stars were visible. Something about eating outdoors that she always enjoyed, she thought. She spotted a famous author she liked, Reavis Wortham, eating at another table with a beautiful woman. Hunter recognized her as Reavis’ wife from the photos on Wortham’s Facebook posts. She thought about introducing herself as a fan, but decided not to, being shy around celebrities.
The incredible night sky was star filled as she drove the short distance home, and Hunter felt content when she parked her pickup and went inside. She set the coffee pot timer for in the morning, then went upstairs to her bedroom. She slipped under the covers, read the new Ace Atkins novel for ten minutes, then told herself, just a few more pages, and fell asleep an hour later with the book on her chest.
Hunter awoke before the alarm the next morning, and went downstairs to pour some coffee. As she raised the cup for her first sip of the day, the phone rang. It was the Border Patrol Office.
“This is Hunter.”
“It’s Joe. You need to hustle back down to Terlingua. Go in plain clothes, and take your truck.”
“What happened?”
“Carlo Diaz asked if you could help him this morning.”
“On what?”
“Somebody committed arson on the vehicle you helped him with yesterday. He asked the Sheriff to ask our Chief if you could help. The Chief said for you to go, so I’m passing on the message here.”
“Thanks. I’ll call Carlo.”
Carlo answered on the first ring and said, “Think you could help out down here?”
“How? You have the legal authority on this.”
“I can’t track like you. I thought we might find some sign. I’ll buy you lunch.”
“I’m on my way.”
Hunter thought about the fire as she drove to Terlingua, wondering why on earth anyone would want to burn the car and the bones. She called Carlo, who told her he had a table at the Chili Pepper for them. She parked in front and entered to see him at a table near the wall, sipping coffee. Hunter ordered as soon as she sat down, and drank the coffee they brought as she waited for her order. “Why’d they burn it, you think?”
Carlo said, “Either there was something in the car, or it was about the bones. Nothing else makes sense.”
The food arrived, with Hunter getting the bacon and eggs, with Carlo getting pancakes and bacon. They talked little while they ate, both thinking of the images in the car trunk.