Cantina Valley (A Ben Adler Mystery Book 1) (21 page)

22

By the time Ben and Maggi got down out of the mountains, it was late afternoon.
 
Ben picked up his truck at Marlon’s house and urged the man to notify the police about both shootings.
 
But he had a feeling Marlon wouldn’t report them.
 
Would the police believe there was such a thing as a truffle cartel?
 
Doubtful.
 
Ben wasn’t sure he believed it.
 
Maggi was sure she didn’t believe.
 
In fact, she seemed to be having a hard time believing anything that had happened since she had met Ben and Marlon.

Now, having driven back to his house, the two of them sat in his living room sharing a bottle of pinot noir from Springdale Winery.

Ben stared out the picture window at his back yard, which angled upward toward the Coast Range in a wide grassy swatch where deer and turkeys often came to feed.
 
Periodically a small herd of elk would also show up.
 
But now the animals must have been hunkering down to fend off the relentless rain that had started falling again in earnest just after they had gotten to his house.

“It’s so peaceful here,” Maggi said.

“Yes, it is.
 
It’s not a bad life.”

“I’m really impressed at all the things you make.”

“You haven’t seen half of it,” he said.
 
“I have a huge root cellar built into the hillside with just about anything you could imagine stored there.”

“For the zombie apocalypse?”
 
She grinned and sipped her wine.

“I don’t know much about zombies, but we are just one pandemic virus away from real trouble in this world.
 
If that happens, isolation is the only thing that will save anyone.
 
At least until governments can find a viable cure.”

“If that happens, how many people will show up at your door?” she asked.

“By next year I should have enough stores to supply enough for five people for five years.
 
So, that means four more.”

“How many do you have on your list so far?”

“Nobody has ever asked.”

“Not even Sonya?”

“Like I told you, we are mostly just friends.”

“With benefits.”

“Nothing exclusive.”
 
He thought for a moment and then added, “Anyone who shows up here doesn’t get a free ride.”

“I’ll bet.”

“I mean, they’ll have to work the garden, collect eggs, milk the cows.
 
Know how to shoot guns.”

“You think you’ll need to protect what you have?”

“Of course.
 
Every scenario for a collapse of society includes potential armed conflict.”
 
He took a long sip of wine, his eyes concentrating on Maggi.

“I do know how to shoot,” she said.
 
“Growing up in Central Oregon kind of requires it.”

“I had a feeling.
 
You want to see something?”

“Sure.”

He set down his glass of wine, got up and she followed him toward his master bedroom.
 
Once in the bedroom, he walked toward the en suite bathroom but turned right into a walk-in closet, clicking on an overhead light.

“I need a closet this big,” she said.
 
“You barely have any of the racks filled.”

“Well,” he said.
 
“All my Air Force uniforms, which I rarely wore for twenty years, are in sealed boxes in a back closet.
 
Most of the clothes I wore as a special agent I gave to charity.
 
These are mostly work clothes.”

“Okay,” she said.
 
“You wanted to show me your clothes?”

He smiled.
 
“Not exactly.”
 
He moved a jacket hanging on a hook and punched in a four-digit code to a cipher lock.
 
An audible lock released and the cedar paneling on one wall popped open.
 
He pulled the door open further and a light came on automatically, revealing his hidden storage of weapons.
 
To the left was a line of long guns, from AR-15s to tactical shotguns and scoped hunting rifles.
 
To the right was three shelves of identical 9mm handguns.
 
Above the handguns was a padded shelf with rows of full magazines for the AR-15s and the handguns.
 
Across the floor under the handguns were ammo boxes.

Maggi stood with her mouth open.
 
“Wow.”

“Does this disturb you?” he asked.

“No.
 
That’s not the word I’d use.
 
I’m a little turned on.”

“Just a little?”

She turned to him with a look he had not seen in her since she asked if he wanted to shower with her.
 
Then she latched on to him and kissed him passionately on the lips, which he reciprocated.

Together they embraced and moved out to the bedroom, alternating between kissing and ripping off their clothes.
 
By the time they reached his bed, they were wearing only their underwear.

She stepped back and removed her bra, exposing nice breasts that curved up, the nipples hard as a rock.
 
Then, her chest heaving, she dropped her underwear, revealing a tiny landing strip.

He didn’t have to look down to know that he was as hard as her nipples.
 
Ben lifted his underwear over his erection and dropped them to the floor.

She rushed him again, squeezing her breasts against his chest and pressing his hard on into her groin.

The first time they fucked hard and fast.
 
Upon recovery, they made slow, passionate love.

•

Maggi dozed in the bed while Ben got on his laptop and did an online search.
 
After a short while, the doorbell rang.
 
Ben swore to himself, knowing he needed to install better security, with motion detection and video uploaded directly to the cloud.
 
Especially since getting the satellite and computer.
 
But deep down he didn’t trust anything uploaded to a server that could be accessed by some snot-nosed hacker in his parents’ basement.
 
Maybe he would simply install the sensors and link them to his laptop.

He scrambled to get dressed and made sure his gun was clipped to his belt.
 
Then he started for the front door.

Maggi stopped him, “Do you think that might be Sonya?”

“No.
 
But you might want to get dressed.”

He left her in his bedroom and went to the front door.
 
Standing on his front stoop was Deputy Lester Dawson.
 
Ben opened the door and said, “Holy crap, Lester.
 
What brings you by on such a nasty day?”

“Can I come in, Ben?” the deputy asked.

“Do you have a warrant?”

“I’m not here to search for anything.
 
I just want to talk.”

Ben smiled.
 
“I’m just messing with ya.
 
Come on in.”

The deputy came through the door and glanced down at his feet.
 
His service boots were wet and dirty.

“You can take them off or we can talk here,” Ben said.

“Here’s fine.
 
This won’t take long.”
 
The deputy took his Resistol hat off and wiped the rain around on the plastic cover.

“How goes your murder investigation?”

“I’m off that case,” the deputy said with a subdued disposition.

“Oh.
 
Did you I.D. the guy?”

“Yeah.
 
It was a former soldier named Marco Alvarez from the Junction City area.”

Ben nodded his head.
 
“I get it.”

“Do you?”

“Sure.
 
The sheriff let’s you investigate until they find out the guy is a former soldier and not an illegal.
 
Then they pull the plug on you.”

“That about sums it up,” Lester said.

Ben and Lester had talked a few times since Ben had retired from the Air Force.
 
Lester had been interested in the work his old high school friend had done for his country.
 
Ben got the impression that Lester had felt somewhat guilty for not serving his country in the military.
 
But Ben had told him he served every day in his local community.

“What can I do for you then, Lester?”

“I do want to talk with you about the murder investigation, but first I need to question you about a couple of shootings.
 
One at Marlon Telford’s place, and the other up in the Coast Range.”

Amazing.
 
Marlon had actually called in the shootings.
 
“I’m guessing Marlon took my advice and called these in.”

“Unofficially.
 
He called the sheriff, who called me to handle this off the books.
 
I’m supposed to be taking a few days off.”

Ben explained everything that had happened first at Marlon’s house and then up in the mountains, from the men shooting over their vehicle to the report he had gotten from Tavis McGuffin.

“And you think these people were simply trying to scare Marlon and his crew?” Lester asked.

“Either that or they were the worst shot I’ve ever seen.
 
When they drove by our vehicle out on that forest road, they were no more than six feet from us.
 
They couldn’t have missed unless they tried to miss.”