Potshot

"Why would they kill him?"

"I just the hired hard case," Hawk said. "You the sleuth."

"They seem to be players," I said.

"Anybody in Saguaro Development got the balls to do it?"

"Mary Lou," I said.

Hawk nodded and finished his half donut. He took a sip of his coffee.

"Even though she cute and got a blond ponytail?"

"That usually eliminates a suspect," I said. "But somebody killed Buckman."

Dean Walker slipped into the booth next to me. He was looking clean and shiny. His uniform shirt was freshly pressed. He took his hat off and laid it crown down on the table in front of him.

"How're the donuts?" he said.

"No such thing as a bad donut," Hawk said.

He gestured at the waitress and she brought him coffee without further instruction.

"Did you have a little incident this morning?" Walker said to me.

"Big incident," I said.

"Pretty good," he said.

"You witness any of it?" I said.

Walker smiled.

"They're not going to let it go," he said.

"Probably not."

"There's seven of you," Walker said.

"You counted."

"There's about forty of them."

"Preacher says he didn't shoot Steve Buckman."

"Preacher ain't the most honest guy," Walker said.

"Nor the nicest," I said. "But what if he were telling the truth."

"Then it must have been somebody else," Walker said.

"That's why you're chief of police," I said.

"Nothing like a trained professional," Walker said. "What are you going to do about the Dell?"

"Wait and watch," I said.

"You ought to leave," he said.

I shrugged.

"You won't," Walker said. "Will you?"

I shook my head. Hawk was on his last donut. He seemed to be paying no attention. Which was, of course, a deception. Hawk paid attention to everything.

"Second best suggestion," Walker said. "Don't wait for them. Try to hit them first. I guarantee they're coming."

"Been urging that same course of action," Hawk said.

"You think Mary Lou might have killed her husband?"

"No."

"She might have," I said.

No."

"Who's your candidate?" I said.

"If it wasn't the Dell?"

"Yeah."

"Might have been Ratliff."

"The producer?"

"Yeah. He followed her out here."

"Why?"

He didn't answer. He took a sip of his coffee, shook his head slightly and stirred more sugar into his cup.

"Unrequited love?" I said.

"He had an affair with her in L.A. It didn't mean anything. She and Steve were having a little trouble at the time."

"Last time I mentioned it," I said, "you said it was a lie."

"Did I say that?"

"You did."

"Probably before I learned the truth."

"Probably."

"He was a

"What'd he say?"

Walker continued to stir his coffee. The gesture was automatic, as if he'd forgotten about it.

"He admitted he followed her out here. Said he loved her. Said he just wanted to be near her."

"And you think he killed Buckman to clear the way for himself?"

"Might have. Might have heard that the Dell threatened Steve, and saw his chance. Shoot him and the Dell gets blamed."

"It's a theory," I said.

"Yep."

"Mary Lou's part of a group that's buying up real estate," I said.

"Good for her."

"Where's she get the money?"

"I look like HR Block to you?"

"I'll take that to mean you don't know where she got the money."

"You take it to mean whatever the fuck you want to," Walker said.

"The mayor's part of the group," I said, "and J. George Taylor."

"Yeah?"

"Why do you suppose they're doing that?"

"Real estate's cheap around here."

"Because of the Dell?"

"Sure."

"So why does this group want it?"

"Maybe they have confidence in you," Walker said.

"Figure Potshot would boom without the Dell problem?"

Walker shook his head.

"Not enough water," he said. "We're at capacity."

"You ever sleep with Mary Lou?" I said.

"Hey," Walker said. "Who the fuck do you think you're talking to?"

"Do you know who Morris Ta

"You think she slept with him?"

"Do you?"

"Watch your mouth pal. This is a lady you're talking about."

"Nothin' unladylike 'bout getting laid," Hawk said.

"Do you know Ta

"No."

"But you're worried that Mary Lou might have slept with him?"

Walker stood up suddenly and picked up his hat and put it on.

"Fuck this," he said and left.

"Touchy," Hawk said.

"On this subject."

"You think he might be right 'bout Ratliff?"

"I think you're right about the question of ladies and sex."

"Good to be right about something," Hawk said. "You think she co

"Everywhere I go in this thing I keep bumping into either her or him," I said.

"Don't mean they're co

"Ever since I signed on for this, I been trying to figure out where she's getting the money."

"Ta

"He do," I said.

"You got any ideas how to find out about him?" Hawk said.

"I do," I said.

Chapter 54

I SAT ON the front porch with my Winchester rifle leaning against the porch railing beside me, and talked on the portable phone to Samuelson in L.A.

"You got any surveillance on Ta

"Me? No."

"Organized Crime Unit, maybe?"

"Don't know. Lemme call you back."

I punched off, and sat and looked at the angular desert plants for awhile. Up the hill from the house, with a view of the road, Bobby Horse was taking his turn with one of the little black-and-yellow walkietalkies we'd bought. In the house Cholla had the other one. As Bernard J. Fortunato had explained, being murdered in our beds would suck.

Peripherally I saw movement in the brush at the right corner of the house. I put down the cell phone and picked up the Winchester. A deer came delicately out from the cover, stopped short, and stared at me with its enormous dark eyes. I put the gun back down. The deer twitched its oversized ears a couple of times. I didn't move. After more staring and twitching, the deer ate a leaf off of one of the dry desert plants, then did a big leap into the woods and vanished.

The portable phone rang. It was Samuelson.

"OCU's got nothing going on with Ta

"FBI?"

"Yep."

"And?"

"And they are not sharing it with us."

"Nice cooperation," I said.

"You got anybody who'll whisper it to you?"