Dog Gone Lies (Pacheco & Chino Mysteries Book 1)

Pacheco & Chino Mystery #1

Ted Clifton

Kindle Edition

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EPUB edition ISBN: 978-1-927967-66-9
Kindle edition ISBN: 978-1-927967-67-6
Paperback edition ISBN: 978-1-927967-65-2

Copyright 2015 Ted Clifton, all rights reserved.

• Cover
  
• Title Page
  
• 1: Friday, 1988
  
• 2: Friday
  
• 3: Saturday
  
• 4: Sunday
  
• 5: Monday
  
• 6: Tuesday
  
• 7: Wednesday
  
• 8: Thursday
  
• 9: Friday
  
• 10: Saturday
  
• 11: Sunday
  
• 12: Monday
  
• 13: Tuesday
  
• 14: Wednesday
  
• 15: Thursday
  
• 16: Friday
  
• 17: Saturday
  
• 18: Some Days in the Past—Monica’s Story
  
• 19: Monica’s Story, Part II
  
• 20: Monday
  
• 21: Tuesday, Cloudcroft
  
• 22: Wednesday
  
• 23: Thursday
  
• 24: Friday
  
• 25: Friday
  
• 26: Saturday
  
• 27: Sunday
  
• 28: Monday
  
• 29: Wednesday
  
• 30: Fishing
  
• 31: Some Time Later
  
• 32: Late Evening
  
• Preview: The Bootlegger’s Legacy
  
• Prolog: Oklahoma City, Oklahoma, 1952
  
• 1: Oklahoma City, Oklahoma, February 1987
  
• 2: Oklahoma City, Oklahoma
  
• 3: Oklahoma City, Oklahoma
  
• 4: Las Cruces, New Mexico, March 1987
  
• 5: Oklahoma City, Oklahoma
  
• 6: Las Cruces, New Mexico, April 1987
  
• About The Author
  
• Books By Ted Clifton
  

“Hello, Ed.”

“What the hell do you guys want? Look, I didn’t tell them anything while I was in jail. Fuck, man, I don’t know anything.”

“Why don’t you shut the fuck up and come with us before you make us mad.”

The two goons gave Ed a shove toward the door. He was terrified, trying to calculate what would happen. How the hell had he gotten mixed up with these animals? He’d been depressed and lonely. Then he’d found drugs and life had seemed okay for a while, although things weren’t always real clear. But this fucked up world just wouldn’t leave him alone to be a loser drug addict. It cost a goddamn fortune to illegally self-medicate. If he’d been rich he’d have been under the care of some asshole psychiatrist, getting all the drugs he wanted.

As the morons shoved him into the back seat of their ratty car, Ed began to wonder if he should just run. These fat bastards would never be able to catch him—would they shoot him in broad daylight on a city street? He decided they would, mostly because they were too stupid to understand how dumb that would be.

They were probably just going to hurt him some, anyway, like last time. All they wanted was money—kill him and he could never pay anything again. He felt calmer once he realized they were just going to beat him up, maybe break an arm or a leg. If things went too far he could tell them about the evidence that would go to the cops if he turned up dead. But then they might force him to tell them that he’d mailed it to his mother, in which case they’d probably just kill him and then kill his mother, too.

“Ed, you must be the dumbest fuck who ever lived. Why did you get your mother involved in this shit—what kind of asshole son are you anyway?”

“Jeez, man, I don’t know what you’re talking about. My mother? She isn’t involved in anything. Sometimes I say things that aren’t right—no way my mother’s involved in anything—you assholes better leave her alone.”

The goon turned around in the seat and popped Ed a good one right in the jaw. The world became suddenly less real, more distant, and he keeled over in the back seat. He seemed to be dreaming about his mother and father. He cared about them so very much. Why had he hurt them? He’d done it repeatedly over a lot of years. He wasn’t sure why. He certainly didn’t mean to—it just seemed to happen. So much in his life just happened, without any obvious reason.

Ed drifted back into semi-consciousness, unsure of where he was. Then he remembered the goons. He didn’t raise himself up, just stayed still and hoped that everything would go away. He’d decided against telling them anything about his little surprise package. He’d stay quiet and everything would go away. That’s what was going to happen. It would all go away for Ed.

Friday, 1988

1988
: The Hubble Telescope goes into operation, exploring deep space. A bomb explodes on Pan Am Flight 103 over Lockerbie in Scotland. Prozac is sold for the first time as an anti-depressant. Hit movies include
Rain Man
,
Die Hard
, and
A Fish Called Wanda
. Cell phones and internet technology are in their early stages. The top-rated television show is “The Cosby Show.” The U.S. president is Ronald Reagan. Roy Orbison dies. And CDs outsell vinyl records for the first time.

Ray Pacheco had been the sheriff for Dona Ana County New Mexico for twenty years when he retired and took up fishing. He’d been good at his job, but he wasn’t driven. He thought of the people who lived in his county as friends and the kids of friends. The new breed of law enforcement seemed to see enemies everywhere, from terrorists to druggies. Everyone was a suspect. He couldn’t work that way and decided he’d rather just quit.

Ray had made a deal for an old abandoned cabin close to Elephant Butte Lake outside the oddly named city of Truth or Consequences, New Mexico. He’d retired from being a cop and, to some extent, from being around people—he’d decided to just hide out for a while. It wasn’t that he didn’t like people—quite the opposite. He liked them fine, he was just tired of dealing with the bad ones, and one of the hazards of being in law enforcement is that you come in contact with a lot of bad ones.

So here Ray was, retired to a remote cabin by a lake with nothing to do. After a few months of doing very little he was getting jumpy. Well, hell, there was fishing. He’d never fished in his life. He knew it didn’t fit the stereotype of a rural county sheriff, but he’d just never been much of an outdoorsman. Under the circumstances, though, it seemed like the thing to do.

Ray drove down to the lake and stopped at the largest bait shop—
Jack’s Bait, Boats and Beer
, the triple B. He sat in the Jeep for a while, wondering if he even wanted to go in—it was like entering a different world. Even before he got through the door, the odor was a little off-putting. Not real sure if it was the bait, or maybe the beer, but it didn’t smell good at all. He entered what had to be the most cluttered store that ever existed. There were things hanging from the ceiling that could easily have been there fifty years before—and he wasn’t real sure what some of that hanging stuff was.

Even finding the sales counter took some time. Once Ray reached what he thought must be it—after all, there was an old cash register sitting on it—no one was there. As a matter of fact, he couldn’t see anyone anywhere. While he wasn’t sure there was much here anybody would steal, he couldn’t believe that there wasn’t somebody around somewhere. At that moment he heard noises out back, and he followed them out a back door onto a dock area, where several men were occupied loading things into a boat.

One man looked up. “Hey, be with you in a minute—soon as I get the rest of this shit loaded.” Must be the store owner. He looked to be in excess of three-hundred pounds and was chewing on an unlit cigar that seemed a likely source of the offensive odor.

The man finished his task, thanked his customer, and headed towards Ray. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in—guess I had my head up my ass. As usual. What can I do for you?”

“My name’s Ray Pacheco. Just moved up here a few months ago and I’m mostly looking for some information.”

“Well, hello, Ray Pacheco, name’s Big Jack—I own this pile of shit business and also give out free information on almost any topic you can dream up.” Big Jack’s smile was big.
Everything
about Big Jack was big. Ray sensed that he’d be more than willing to share his opinion on almost anything—the problem would be deciding which parts were true. There was a twinkle in the man’s eye that suggested he found merriment in being a little off-center. Ray wasn’t sure how anyone could tell when Big Jack was lying or telling the truth—he was willing to bet that most of what Jack said at least stretched the truth some—but at the same time there was something about his manner that suggested he might be a lot smarter than he looked. My god, he’d almost have to be.

They shook hands. “Nice to meet you, Big Jack. I’ve retired up here and decided that I’d take up fishing. I’ve never fished in my life and I’m looking for some guidance.”

“Oh my, I think I just caught something on my line.” Big Jack started laughing so hard Ray was a little worried he might topple over.

After several minutes of enjoying his own humor, Big Jack started to quiet down. “Sorry, Ray. Just couldn’t resist. Okay, so you want to be a fisherman. First thing is don’t buy anything. Do you see a little tear in my eye, Ray? Yep, that’s what I said—the first thing you need to do is go fishing. Just borrow or rent some stuff and figure out if this is something you really want to do.”