“The guy who carried me off the mountain, the one who saved my life? I think he’s one of the men who shot Miguel and burned down Sam’s ranch house.”
“What makes you think that?”
“From Miguel and Sam’s description. The scar.” Raymond ran a finger by his right eye, indicating the scar.
“What was he doing at Capote?”
“I have no clue.”
“Are you sure it was him?”
“Not sure, but Miguel and Sam could tell us if it was.” Hunter raised her eyebrows. Raymond continued, “When he put me down by the Tahoe, I took a photo with my phone. I was in and out of consciousness right then, so I’m not sure it came out, but if it did, I might have his face. I figure that’ll give you something to do to occupy your mind so you won’t worry so much about me. Having one woman fluttering around me is plenty.”
“I wasn’t going to flutter, I was going to aggravate you.”
“That’s your way of fluttering.” He pointed at his things on the small desk. “Take the phone, get the photo, and go get some rest. You look like ten miles of bad road.”
“Flatterer.” Hunter took his phone, transferred the photo to her cell, and replaced his on the desk. “I’m leaving now. I’ll let you know what Sam and Miguel say. You need anything…”
“I’ll call. Go get some rest.”
Hunter went out and said to Connie, “If you need me to bring you something from Marfa, or for me to do anything else, I’m here for you.”
Connie nodded stiffly, “Thank you for coming last night.”
Hunter thought about hugging her, but the woman’s body language said, keep away, so she nodded at Connie and left the hospital.
The drive back was at normal speed, and she stopped once on a side road and took a ten-minute nap so she wouldn’t fall asleep behind the wheel. When she pulled into the driveway at her big Mediterranean style home on Plateau Street, she could barely hold her eyes open.
She took her shoes off inside the door and trudged up the stairs to the master bedroom, where she removed her jacket and her sidearm, then fell on the top covers without undressing. She was asleep almost instantly.
CHAPTER 6
That morning, Holland had Lopez tell two men to wash the Bronco inside and out again. He still smelled the harsh bite of chlorine when near it. Lopez put the men to work, then returned and said, “We found the place near Terlingua. It’s a woman named Ingram, lives alone with a couple of dogs and some chickens, one of those small ranches outside of town. It shouldn’t be a problem getting in. You want us to kill her, or what?”
Holland thought about it. “No, unless that is the only way. Beat her, and destroy all her equipment. Scare her enough so that she will not report it.”
Lopez thought he would kid Holland, and said, “Getting a little soft, are we?”
Holland’s eyes were cold. He drew his Glock and pointed it at Lopez’s face. The trigger finger whitened.
Guereca touched Holland’s shoulder and said, “You kill him, it’s the same as our enemies doing it. We need every man we’ve got.” Holland held the pistol but didn’t squeeze more on the trigger––or less. Guereca said, “I’m burned since they saw me in El Paso, so I can’t go to the states any more. How about I send him to take care of the Terlingua woman? He don’t get it done, I shoot him myself.”
Lopez felt paralyzed as he stared at the black hole in the barrel of the .45. Holland stepped closer and put the pistol against his forehead. Lopez felt wet warmth flood his groin and down the insides of his legs.
Holland pushed the pistol hard against Lopez’s forehead, sending the Mexican staggering backward several feet, then he holstered the Glock and said to Guereca, “Send him tonight.” Holland walked toward the house.
Guereca slapped Lopez hard and said, “You dumbass!”
Lopez’s legs wobbled, and his hands shook like someone with palsy. “I was only jokin’ around with him. I didn’t mean anything.”
“Get out of here right now, and teach that Ingram woman a lesson, you hear me?”
“Yes. Yes I will. Damn right.”
“Take a man with you.” He looked at the wet trousers. “Change your pants first.” Guereca followed Holland into the house. Lopez stood in the yard so long that his legs and groin became cold from the wetness.
***