CHAPTER 9

The next morning Matt packed his bag and checked out of the motel and headed to the little diner that he had gone to the night before. He sat at the counter, eating a stack of pancakes and sausage. It was good, but not nearly as good as CJ's.

After finishing his second cup of coffee, the private investigator headed for the Mojave County Sheriff's Department located on Beale Street which was a couple of blocks away. Once inside, he spoke to a deputy behind the counter and told him who he was and that he was supposed to meet with Lt. Gary Hahn. "Yes sir – the lieutenant called a few minutes ago. He's running a few minutes late but will see you as soon as he gets here. He also told me that you can use his office to look through the file you requested. Oh, and there's also a package here for you." The young man slid a box across the counter to Matt. It was from Houston Investigations. Pulling out his knife, he cut the tape on the box and opened it to find his fire investigation books for both his current class and the one that he would be taking the next semester. He grinned as he pulled out a note from his wife.

Matt,

Thought you might want these to keep you company.

Love you and miss you,

CJ

The deputy looked slightly puzzled as he saw what the books were. Matt put them back in the box, still smiling but catching the look on the man's face. "I'm an advisor to the Fire Marshal's office in LA. Have to take a few classes." The deputy nodded and then led the PI back down a hall and into an office. "There's coffee if you'd like some." He motioned to a pot in the hall.

"Thanks." Matt picked up the folder in the chair in front of the lieutenant's desk with Shane Bracken's name on it. He sat down and read through it, noticing that the information was pretty much the same as he had already seen. When he got done, he stood up and walked over to the window and was looking out.

"Good morning." The booming voice came from behind him and Matt turned to see a man of about his height but much heavier and about ten years older. The salt-and-pepper crew cut looked like it had come straight out of Paris Island.

"Morning." Matt shook hands with him.

"I see you found the file alright. Have a seat, Mr. Houston." He grinned, but Matt had absolutely no idea why.

"Have we met before, Lieutenant?"

"Not exactly." The man lowered his voice. "You've worked with a couple of my nephews – my sister's boys – their last name is Merker."

Matt's face lit up. "Yes sir, both good men." He lowered his voice as well. "It seems there aren't too many secrets these days."

"Well naturally I have no idea what you worked with them on…" Hahn was smiling broadly.

"Uh huh, I can tell." Matt shook his head. "So, getting back to the Bracken file here, it says that Deputy Ortega found him."

The lieutenant's face got serious. "He did as a matter of fact. But you won't be able to talk to him about it. He was killed in a shootout about six months ago. But I responded to the scene so I can show you where he was found if you like. I don't know if it will help or not, but…" He stood up as did Matt. "Sometimes you can just pick up ideas from the atmosphere, know what I mean?"

"Yes sir, I do. Besides, it couldn't hurt." Matt picked up the box containing the books that CJ had sent to him.

"Deputy Scolfield remembered the package I see."

"He did and I really appreciate it. I left a couple of things behind at home. Got some school work to do when I'm not working on this case."

"Never too old to learn. Good deal." They headed out to the parking lot, Matt thanking Deputy Scolfield as he passed him. "Where are you going next?" Lt. Hahn pulled his keys out.

"Santa Clara, Utah."

"Okay, you might want to take your truck – you'll be headed out of town in that direction anyway."

"Yes sir." Matt put the box in his truck and followed the man out of the parking lot and west on Beale Street. They headed on out of town several miles before turning onto a dirt road that cut northeast into the desert. About two miles later the patrol car stopped. Matt parked the truck and got out following Hahn, putting on his white straw cowboy hat as he did so.

"He was spotted by one of the locals out here." Hahn pointed to an outcropping of rock. "Just below the rocks there." They walked over that way.

"And according to the report there were no tire tracks other than those of the guy who found him." Matt knelt down and looked at the spot. A breeze from the southwest started up and he looked at the darkening sky.

"Looks like rain is on the way." Hahn looked up as well.

Matt blew out a breath as he stood up. "This spot isn't too far from the interstate, but not exactly where a lot of folks would be going through either."

"Yep."

"Was the bullet recovered?"

"It was – the FBI has it now."

The PI shook his head. "Lieutenant, I sure do appreciate your help. And tell your nephews I said howdy, would you?" They shook hands again before loading up in their vehicles and turning around, headed back toward 93 North where they parted ways. The skies were darkening quickly and Matt had rolled his window down for some fresh air. When the rain started, it was as if someone had flipped a switch. One second it was dry, the next rain was pouring down. Matt switched on his wipers and lights, slowing slightly as he did so, and then rolled up his window. A tractor trailer came flying by him, throwing up a blinding spray of water from the roadway. Cursing under his breath, Matt slowed a little more until he could see again. The mud flaps on the truck were in bad shape; they were split into three to four pieces and didn't do much to keep the spray from the tires from landing on the vehicles behind it.

Watching as the truck sped on through the desert, Matt was struck by a thought. He had already been wondering if the killer had been using a truck or camper – both of which had mud flaps. Some motor homes had guards that looked like large brushes. If the flaps or guards were lowered temporarily, could they wipe out tracks? Obviously the killer was getting in and out somehow without leaving tire tracks or foot prints either one. The foot prints were fairly easy to eradicate, especially if the ground in the area was hard-packed earth. Even a broom or squeegee could do the job. It was something to give further consideration.

Pulling out his phone, Matt punched CJ on the speed dial. "Good morning, beautiful."

"Good morning to you, too. How's it going?"

"Alright. Thanks for the package by the way – I need to be studying for my exam."

"I thought so."

Matt went on to tell her about his mud flap idea. "What do you think?"

"I'd say it makes sense. I'll do some checking around with camper dealers who do repairs and sell accessories, as well as truck stops."

"Thanks, Babe. I'm on the way to Santa Clara right now, then I'm going to head back to Boulder City, and Vegas. Wanna meet me in Vegas since we never got to stay when we were working for Michael?" He was half joking and half serious.

"Hmmm…" CJ thought about it. "I don't know if that's a good idea or not…you might not get any work done." The tone in her voice let Matt know that there was no doubt that he wouldn't be concentrating on the case if she met him there. "Maybe I should just wait here for you. You know what they say: absence makes the heart grow fonder."

"I always thought that absence made the…"

"Don't say it. You're terrible." She cracked up as she said it. "I'll wait for you here."

"Oh, alright." Matt really was disappointed. "Guess I better get off of here. You girls stay out of trouble."

"We will – see if you can do the same."

"Love you, Babe…and I really do miss you."

"Miss you more. Love you, Cowboy." She hung up the phone and sighed just as Chris came walking into her office.

"He's homesick, huh?" She smiled.

"Yeah he is…"

"Just think how good it will be when he gets back." Chris gave CJ a knowing smile and both women giggled.

"Truthfully? That's all I can think about right now." The lawyer-turned-PI smiled wistfully.

Back in the desert, Matt was thinking about the same thing. "I gotta catch this guy quick…he's interfering with my love life…and now I'm talking to myself." He cracked up.

The three hour drive gave the PI plenty of time to think. Shane Bracken had been shot in the head, and the FBI now had the bullet. He really hoped that they would get a hit off of it; there were few leads on this case and he didn't want to spend years driving around in the Mojave Desert. Reminding himself that he needed to talk to Bateaux about that, the PI settled in for the drive. He got to Santa Clara, Utah just before noon, turning off of Highway 8 onto West Sunset Drive. After lunch at a small barbecue joint, he headed on up the road to the Police Department. Stepping up to the desk sergeant, Matt explained why he was there.

"Yes sir, Chief Montague is expecting you." He picked up the phone and buzzed the chief. Hanging up he pointed down a hallway. "All the way down the hall, last door on the right hand side. He said just come on in."

"Thanks." Matt headed down the hallway. It occurred to him that he had been treated with nothing but kindness and respect while on this trip. Maybe there were some perks associated with working for the FBI. He tapped on the door before entering and heard a nasally voice on the other side telling him to enter. Stepping inside, the private eye was met with an appraising stare. "Hi, I'm…"

"Houston, PI from LA, here for the FBI." Montague didn't look too happy.

"You know, when you say it like that, it kinda sounds like alphabet soup."

The chief had a surprised look on his face. "Well I can tell you're not regular FBI." He smiled and stood up, extending his hand.

"No sir, as a matter of fact this is the first time I've ever worked with them – instead of against them." They shook hands and he took the chair that Montague motioned to and propped his left boot on his right knee.

"You might just be okay after all. I've never been too fond of the fibbies."

"Me either. Although the one that brought me in on the case seems to be okay." Both men laughed.

"But you didn't come here to listen to me complain about the Feds. Here's the file." The man handed it across the desk.

Matt quickly read through it; just like the others it was almost the same as what he had already read. "Megan Litsey disappeared three years ago but had been dead for about a year when she was found." He was thinking out loud. "Obviously there was some reason why he held onto her. Wait a minute…she was a mortuary assistant. I forgot that my wife told me that." He thoughtfully rubbed the beard on his face. Chief Montague got up and looked out his window. "Maybe he held onto her because she was valuable…maybe her mortuary skills…" He didn't finish. "Son of a gun."

Montague turned to look at him. "What?"

"During the time that he had her, the bodies left were in better shape. He kept her because she was teaching him."

"That makes sense." The cop nodded his head. "I didn't know about the other bodies except for a couple of them…until Bateaux called me again the other day."

"They're trying to keep things quiet."

"Aren't they always?"

"Yes sir." Matt stood up. "Could I see where she was found?"

"Sure thing." The chief picked up his phone. "I need you to come to my office, Rodriquez." He hung up. "Pablo Rodriquez worked the case…it's always kinda stuck in his craw that he didn't figure it out."

There was a knock on the door and then the detective came in. "Sir?"

After introducing Matt and telling the man why he was there, the chief asked him to take the PI to the scene.

"Yes sir, I'd be glad to do it. That one's haunted me."

Matt shook hands with Montague and followed Rodriquez out to the parking lot and into his truck. They headed out east on Sunset then turned north on Bluff Street then east again on East Red Hills Parkway where the detective pulled over on the shoulder of the road. It essentially looked like almost all of the others but was somewhat more similar to the Marion Reed scene in that it was in an area where the body would be easily found in daylight. He had felt guilty about this one as well. Matt shut off the truck and put on his hat once again as he got out. The afternoon sun was out in full force. He looked around as they crossed the road. The area lived up to its name: the red hills reminded him of Mars.

"Right here is where she was." Rodriquez pointed to the area immediately in front of him. "He wasn't trying to hide her. This stretch gets a lot of traffic. There's a golf course over that way…" He pointed to the south. "And a couple of factories towards town." Matt silently looked around the area. "So the FBI brought you in?"

"Yeah, they did."

Rodriquez nodded. "I met Agent Bateaux here a while back – seemed pretty good – for a Fed."

Matt laughed. "Yeah, especially for an FBI agent – I don't usually get along with them. The DEA and ATF – no problem, but the FBI is a whole other story."

"Here's my card. Call if you should need something else." Rodriquez handed one over as Matt searched his pockets.

"I've got some in the truck." They walked back across the road and Matt opened the door and grabbed a small box out of the compartment on the door. "There ya go. Almost time to reload." He gave a grin as he pulled a few more out and put them on the visor and then replaced the box. "I sure appreciate you taking the time to bring me out here."

"Not a problem. Nice to meet you." The two shook hands and Rodriquez left while Matt sat in his truck for a minute looking at the area before retracing part of his route earlier and heading back down to I-15 where he would then be passing through part of Vegas before heading south and then east again to Boulder City. He had a two and a half hour drive ahead of him.

Forty five minutes later, his phone rang. He looked at the caller ID and answered. "Hey Michael, how's it going?"

"Oh, just peachy; I've dealt with a gang shooting, an idiot protesting global warming by setting fire to telephone poles…you know, all the glorious things that happen around here. How do you like working for the FBI?"

"I prefer to think of it as working with them – for a change." Both men laughed. "So has Anne fixed any of that venison?" Matt had taken the cop on his first-ever hunting trip on the Thanksgiving holiday and he had a blast.

"As a matter of fact she's cooking a roast tonight. Can't wait to dig into that."

"Well good. How's my girl doing?" The private eye was referring to Michael's daughter Kathy.

The cop groaned. "She's got her first date tomorrow night."

"Hah haaaaaa! I knew you'd give in. Don't forget to pay her allowance this week – she owes me ten bucks." Matt burst into laughter.

"You two were betting on it? Why am I surprised? Lord knows I shouldn't be." He couldn't help but smile. "Just wait – one of these days it will happen to you. Catey will bring home some guy and you'll freak out."

"Nah, not me. CJ might, but not me." Both men laughed again.

"So what about your case?" Matt brought him up to date and told him about the mud flap theory. "That makes a lot of sense, Matt."

"I sure hope something does – I don't like spending all my time out here wandering around and being away from home."

"Uh huh – you're homesick already."

"Hell, I was homesick the minute I pulled out of the parking garage." They both got quiet for a minute. "Did CJ tell you what happened Wednesday afternoon?"

"No, good or bad?"

"Good. I got called Daddy for the first time." Matt was grinning from ear to ear.

"Well congratulations!"

"Shocked the hell out of me, that's for sure." Both men laughed again and talked on for a couple more minutes until Hoyt had to leave to deal with a homicide.

"Well don't get lost out there, Houston. Talk to you later."

"Alright, bud. Tell the girls I said howdy." He hung up and spent the rest of his trip thinking about how it would be to have more kids running around the ranch.