Just The Pits (Hetta Coffey Series, Book 5) (13 page)

Jealousy is all the fun you think they had.—Erica Jong

Jan called twenty minutes after my boat's security cameras spied Ricardo Dickless Luján skulking around
Raymond Johnson
. 

"Well, hell and damnation, Hetta. Ya know, Chino heard something about Lujàn moving his operations over here somewhere."

"Over here, where? And didn't you think I should know this before I signed up for a job on this side of the peninsula?"

"Oh, come on, Hetta, Baja's a big place. What are the odds? Just relax, we'll find out what he's up to."

"Easy for you to say. It isn't you he wants to kill. And right now I'd like to kill
you
for not telling me that slimeball was in my neighborhood."

Jan called Chino, told him about Lujàn's prowling and Chino said he'd get his cousins to ask around about what he was up to. And maybe why, other than wanting to kill me, he was lurking around my boat.

I reported a prowler to the marina office, along with a copy of Luján's mugshot caught by my security camera. They promised to make sure the guards and all personnel stayed on the lookout for him.

Meanwhile we went into a defense mode, with cameras rolling twenty-four hours a day and all doors locked at all times. It's times like this when I really, really miss my guns.

After a couple of days on high alert, we needed a break.

Poor Rosario couldn't even leave the boat for fear of being recognized, even with his new blonde do.

Jan was obsessing over Chino's possible hanky panky.

And me? I didn't even have a dog to feed and walk to take my mind off Dickless. I considered getting back into an exercise routine, if one can refer to something one never does routinely a routine, but was spooked about being seen on the streets of Santa Rosalia, now that Luján had been spotted in the vicinity. Or maybe I'm too lazy. Frustration had set in because I wasn't getting anywhere in my quest to find out who was stealing from what I now thought of as
my
project, and had probably tried to kill
my
Rosario.

Yep, we all needed a break, so Saturday morning I declared a hiatus to our sleuthing and obsessing and we all took off for Camp Chino.

Before we left I made Jan promise to leave the cutlery on the boat.

Unfortunately Doctor Bombshell/Centerfold a.k.a Doctor Diane Powell lived up to her billing. It was obvious she was taken with Chino and followed him around like a puppy dog, which she did at her peril, since
my
puppy dog seemed determined to cut her off at every turn, even offering up a small growl and lip curl on occasion. He learned that part from Jan.

Needless to say, the weekend was a tad tense what with Po Thang and Jan both snarling at Doc Di.

"Well, at least Po Thang has a sense of loyalty," Jan sniffed. I guess she hadn't noticed that Po Thang, once he greeted Jan, went back to dogging Chino's every step. As for me, my own dog couldn't care less about me unless I had food in my hand, but at least he didn't grumble at me like he did Diane.

"Chino's loyal too," I reminded her. "He's overjoyed that you're here."

"We'll see."

"Jan, I've never seen you jealous before. I kinda like it."

She flipped her hair. "I am not jealous."

"Are too."

"Am not."

"Then what would you call the way you're acting? You're treating Diane as an arch enemy when she's actually pretty darned nice. It isn't becoming, you know."

Jan teared up and I wanted to kick myself. "Sorry. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. Since when can I do that, anyhow?"

"When you're right, which I hate."

I reached over and patted her hand, which provoked a nose push from Po Thang who had deigned to join us since Chino went off to do some whale thing. "Yeah, yeah, dog. I know you like Jan more than me, but she's my best friend too."

Jan sighed deeply. "Yes, we are best friends. More like sisters," she explained to Po Thang, who cocked his head and ears to her singsong doggy voice. "And that is why I want to warn you, right now. Should you decide to adopt her permanently, she eats all the good stuff."

Po Thang gave me the squinty eye, which set Jan and me off. Chino, back from the sea, sidled up to our campfire chairs and plopped down next to Jan. He looked a little leery, as though our laughter might not be a good thing.

"Mind if I join you?"

Jan smiled and patted his knee. Po Thang nosed her hand away and Jan pushed back. "Watch it, mutt. Remember, you have to spend
all
day with me,
every
day. And Chino," she replaced her hand on his knee, "it's your camp. You don't have to ask if you can join us."

"No, Jan, it is
our
camp and I miss you being here."

"Oh, really? When? Before or after you've spent an entire day and half the night with your new assistant?"

Well, mee-oow!

I stood so fast my chair fell over backward. "Uh, I'll go get us a beer."

Po Thang, since I was headed in the direction of the fridge, followed. "So you don't want to get involved either, you cowardly cur?"

He gave me a woof.

"Gimme five."

Po Thang raised his paw and I shook it. "Well, welcome to the Coward's Club. I am the president."

A raised voice cut through the night and we turned to see Jan and Chino, now standing nose to nose and throwing their arms around.

"Po Thang, your friend Jan is screwing up big time. There is nothing worse than accusing a man of something before he does it, because then he probably will do it. Trust me, I know from experience."

Chino, Diane and Rosario left in a panga early Sunday morning when one of the tour guides told them of a new calf in the lagoon. Jan demurred, still in a snit over the argument from the night before, I guess. I didn't want to leave her alone to stew, so I stayed in camp as well although I really wanted to go see that baby whale. A friend in need is a pest.

I was on Skype, talking with Craig in Arizona about my alleged hate crime when Jan sauntered in with a plate of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies, Po Thang in hot pursuit. 

She leaned into camera range and gave Craig a wave. "Hi, big guy. Hetta gonna go to jail?"

Craig grinned. "Not if I can help it. At least not for this particular crime."

"Hey, it's not like I have a list of crimes, you two. Craig, guess what? Jan's got a hot new rival and a little green monster is plaguing her."

Jan harrumphed. "I am
not
jealous. Hetta's just being mean because her dog likes me better."

"Children, children," Craig scolded. "Play nice. Now, tell me everything that's been going on. I know for sure you two can't stay out of hot water."

We took turns telling Craig everything we knew to date about the project, Rosario, and Dickless's poking around the boat. When we were through, he frowned and shook his head. "I don't like it. You may be in over your heads this time. I think you need some more help down there."

"You gonna ride in and save us, cowboy?"

"Nah, way too much going on up here."

"Who, then?"

"How about Topaz Sawyer, that Sheriff's deputy who helped you out when you shot that skank in the balls. She might like a little Baja vacation."

"Can she do that? Cross the border, her being law enforcement and all?"

"I don't see why not. Long as no one down there knows she's a cop and she leaves her gun at home. Want me to call her?"

"Oh, why not? Can't hurt. While you have her on the phone, run that stupid hate crime thing by her, see what she thinks."

"Will do. Anything else you two want to tell me about? Other than harboring a dead guy, looking for his would-be killers, hiding from a villain who has vowed to do serious harm to Hetta, and Jan being jealous of another woman?"

Jan leaned in again. "I am not jealous. Chino's the one who's being pissy."

I pushed her away, "Nah, I guess that's it. Well, except for jailbirds suing me, the usual."

"Oh, good. Now I won't worry. Bye."

I said bye, Jan waved a hand into the screen, I signed off Skype and turned to Jan. "You have a lot of nerve accusing Chino of being pissy. You're the one who picked that fight, if you ask me."

"I didn't ask you, but now that you've maligned me, I have to set the record straight. He had the nerve to say he's unhappy about me being alone on the boat with Rosario while you're gone all day."

"Well, he sure doesn't know
you
very well."

She smiled. "Yeah, that's what
I
thought."

"I mean, me being around has never kept you from cuckolding
any
body."

"
Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men? The Shadow knows
." The introduction for the radio program.

Jan and I left Camp Chino Monday morning.

Rosario remained at the whale camp, thereby relieving Chino's worries about his proximity to Jan. Po Thang, declared parasite free, joined me and Jan on the return trip to Santa Rosalia via the jobsite.

As we drove on Mex 1, I summarized the situation. "So, let me get this straight. You're thinking that leaving Rosario at the camp will keep Doc Dish and Chino from getting any ideas about each other, and now that Rosario is there, he won't be alone on the boat with you all day, which should make Chino happier. And you didn't want him to worry, even though you were debating leaving Chino because, although you say you love him, you don't like the age difference or living with him in a whale camp. Do I have it right?"

She looked sheepish. "Put that way it sounds like high school stuff."

"Or middle grade, but with an attempted murder thrown in to keep it more grownup."

"Speaking of attempted murder victims, I think Rosario has developed a crush on Doctor Powell. Jeez, what is it with her? What does she have that has all the men panting?"

"You mean instead of you? Welcome to my world. Sounds like the story of my life with Jan."

"Oh, come on. You get plenty of attention. Problem is, they usually want to kill you, but hey, attention is attention."

"I have that effect on people. It's a gift."

"So, whaddya think? Did Safety do it?"

"I'm having my doubts. After all, Po Thang likes him."

Po Thang, on hearing his name, stuck his head over the pickup seat and gave Jan a lick.

She scratched the dog's ears and cooed, "And he doesn't like Doctor Diane, so his judgment must be pretty darned good, huh?"

"So, if we eliminate Safety as the one who tossed Rosario in the drink, we need a new bad guy. Guys. I still say it all gets down to following the money and that's where you come in. When you drop me off at the jobsite this morning, come on into my office, if we can both fit, and let's stir the pot some. See if we can make someone squirm."

"Hetta, you always make guys squirm. And not in a good way, if you know what I mean."

"It's a curse."

"So, Miss Sims," I said loud enough for anyone in the office building to hear, "you think you may have found a serious lead on our cost overrun problem?"

Jan looked startled, and hissed, "Hetta, I said you could make them nervous, not make me a target."

I lowered my voice. "Oh, so now that
you're
a target it's not so much fun, is it? You didn't seem overly worried when Dickless showed up because he doesn't hate you. Besides, you make a great target, what with your size and all."

"Listen, short stuff, I'm not having fun any more. Keep it up and I'll quit."

"Oh, relax. I'm trying to stir that pot we talked about."

"And speaking of pots, maybe you should cut back on the tortillas a tad."

"Yeah, well you could…get shorter, then you'd be fat, too."

This, of course, set us to tittering, which drew Safety to my office.

"What’s so funny? Or do I dare ask?"

"Oh, nothing much," I told him then let loose a piggy nose snort that sent Jan into gales of even louder laughter. I took a deep breath to control myself, then added, "Jan was speculating that if someone tried to, uh,
killed
that Rosario fellow, it was probably over some kind of conspiracy and cover-up related to the cost overruns on the job."
Well, that was about the lamest segue I've ever heard.

Jan stopped laughing and shot me a look she meant would freeze my heart. And mouth. Safety turned so pale his freckles popped. Silence ensued, finally broken by an incredulous Safety. "Whoa, are you saying you think someone
killed
Rosario?"

Jan stood there with her mouth working like a guppy out of water. Since she was uncharacteristically speechless, I stepped in on her behalf. "It is a possibility."

Safety shook his head. "Might I remind you there is no body? And the police have practically declared his disappearance a boating accident?"

"Jan is a very suspicious person. She doesn't even trust the police back home, much less down here. Why—"

She cut me off. "Jan is here. Look Safety, don't pay any attention to a word Hetta says. She's been hitting the Nyquil of late, if you know what I mean. It's the stress. The first thirty-nine years of her childhood have been hard on her. Ouch!"

Some times a little pinch goes a long way.

Jan and Po Thang left my office for the boat, once again sticking me with Safety for a ride home. And now that Safety was alerted that Jan and I were on the snoop, hanging out with him could prove dangerous, but certainly less life-threatening than hopping aboard Pedro's Van of Death.

Apparently prompted by our previous conversation, Safety talked about Rosario all the way back to Santa Rosalia: how smart he was, how nice, how educated, and did I really think someone killed him?

"I dunno. Can you think of any reason why someone would off the guy? What with him being so nice and all?"

"Beats me. I mean, what could Rosario know that could put him in that kind of danger?"

"I thought you might know, Safety."

"Nope."

"You do realize the project has been experiencing unexplained cost overruns, don't you?"

"Hell, everyone knows. I figured it was due to dealing with Mexico as usual."

"Mexico
as usual
will run ten, fifteen percent. We're looking more like thirty."

He turned slightly pink in the face, but redheads will do that. "Thirty? That's…uh…that's not right."

"Oh? What is right?"

"Ten percent."

"And you know this how?"

He shrugged. "Common knowledge. You know, the grapevine."

"Does this grapevine define whether that rumored ten percent is over and above the usual twenty percent in Mexico?"

He didn't answer and remained a little surly until we reached the boat and Po Thang licked him back into civility. Po Thang was ecstatic to see him, even though they'd had an ear-rubbing and licking session back at the jobsite that morning. No, Safety did not lick Po Thang's ears.

After Safety left, Jan and I pulled our dinner together. She was whipping up some Louis sauce for our Lobster Louis when she stopped in mid-wisk. "Safety's hiding something. I feel it in my bones."

"Oh, I think he'd seriously enjoy a feel from you. In his bone."

Jan guffawed. "From my point of view he seems to hang around you a lot, as well. Dang, I guess one of us is gonna have to sleep with him. Wanna flip a coin?"

I swatted her on the head. "Let's use our brains instead."

"Why didn't we think of that novel idea years ago?"

We took our salads and wine onto the sundeck, even though I was still edgy about being so exposed after that little visit by Dickless. Several seagulls eyed our dinner with interest and cawed for a handout. We ignored them. If you feed 'em, next thing you know they crap all over you, kind of like a lot of men I've known.

"Chino called today."

"Yeah? Did you two make up?"

"Sort of. He wants me to go to Lopez Mateos next weekend for a visit with the relatives. Wanna take me over there?"

"Might I remind you that yesterday was the official start of Semana Santa?"

"I know, maybe we should play it safe and hunker down here."

"Where's the fun in that?"

Semana Santa
, or Holy Week in Mexico is a Catholic tradition that has morphed into a free-for-all beach event in the Baja. Families from the States and all over Mexico converge upon Baja Beaches, and especially Conception Bay, for family reunions to beat all family reunions.

In many cases, several generations meet there, pitch tents, roll out the water toys and spend several days having a grand old time. For the most part it is an orderly (by Mexican standards) if noisy gathering, but the beaches, with tents five to ten deep, go from little pieces of paradise to something resembling Ft. Lauderdale at spring break.

The mine was scheduled to close at noon on Wednesday, allowing everyone to get home before the main influx of traffic reached us from up north. By the time the working stiffs up there left at noon and drove many hours to get to the beaches where the older generations had staked out a claim, most of the drivers had had a few
cervezas
. Quite a few.

I was told the town of Santa Rosalia is unusually quiet during this holiday week, with only restaurants, grocery stores, the ubiquitous
depositos
(beer wholesalers selling as an agency of a particular brand), OXXOs—the Mexican equivalent of 7-Eleven—and gas stations making a killing off the migrating celebrants.

The question was, were Jan and I willing to run the gauntlet of revelers past Conception Bay to get to Lopez Mateos, and Chino's own family reunion?

"I wonder how bad it's going to be on that stretch of beach. How come Chino's not picking you up, by the way?

"He's taking the back road, and he's going on Wednesday or Thursday. I can take the bus if you don't want to join us. If I can get a ticket."

"Are you two gonna fight?"

"No."

"Then I'll stay here."

"Okay, I'll pick a fight."

"Then I wouldn't miss it. We just have to be prepared for a bunch of traffic and tons of people on the way. We're good to go then, but I don't want to leave until Saturday. This boat needs a good cleaning and I figured to get it done on my days off."

"I forgot to tell you. The guy who washes your boat can't do it this week. He's gotta practice lugging a cross up the mountain to the cemetery. He invited us to join in the procession if we're here."

I looked at the dirt path winding up to the cemetery and imagined hiking it at night, by candlelight. "No way. I'd probably end up as a speed bump by the fourth station of the cross. On the other hand, if I did make it to the top it would probably constitute an Easter miracle."

"Saint Hetta? Spare me."

I was a little worried about leaving the boat unattended after that visit from Dickless, and told Jan so. "And even though I know now that Luján is lurking on this side of the peninsula, and that I don't have to worry about going to Lopez Mateos, or Magdalena Bay, I'd be a lot more secure if I knew exactly where the thievin' jackass is."

"Don't be silly, Hetta. You'll never be secure."

"Thanks, I really needed that."

She smiled. "But anyhow, I'll call Chino, tell him we're coming over and ask if his cousins have heard anything new about Dickless. How's that?"

"It will have to do. Come on, Po Thang, let's take a walk while your Aunt Jan calls your Uncle Chino."

"Woof."

Jan was just hanging up the phone and had a frown on her face when Po Thang and I returned from our potty run. Yes, both of us. I try to use the marine facilities as much as possible to cut down on my black water pump-out fees. Life without sewer lines can get a mite complicated.

"What? Why so glum?"

"You ain't gonna like it. Chino's cousins heard that Dickless has something going down in Conception Bay. Shady real estate deal of some sort, no doubt."

"Conception Bay? I really didn't want to hear that. Makes sense though, with so many disputed properties down there. Lujàn doesn't build or sell anything he doesn't expect to steal later on. Oh well, at least it's safe for us to go visit with Granny Yee in Lopez Mateos. And with the hordes of people at Conception this weekend, what are the odds of running into that dirty rat bastard, Luján?"

I should'a bought a lottery ticket.

While we were making plans for our run over to Lopez Mateos, Jan commented, "Granny Yee likes you. Says if it wasn't for you she'd probably be dead, along with that entire village she lived in. Ya know, though, we never heard one bit of news about that super meth factory you blew up in the Baja."

"Of course not. Bad for tourism. Besides, I didn't blow it up, Nacho did. I only helped to distract the bad guys."

"Wonder where Nacho is now? Hell, I wonder
who
Nacho is now."

Nacho, a.k.a. The Shadow, or Ignacio, is indeed a shadowy character, but handsome in a criminal sort of way, and one of our favorite topics of discussion.

He shows up in my life periodically, usually when I'm up to my ass in alligators, and helps pull me from the swamp. We don't know who he really is, or for whom he works, but I imagined his card should read:

Lamont “Nacho” Cranston

Shady undertakings our specialty