Secession: The Storm (11 page)

“Don’t you worry none, Mr. Texas Ranger, sir,” the rancher chuckled. “White Lightning is as sure-footed a steed as any. Ya know, I’ve seen lots of tenderfeet toss their cookies on a ride like this. Don’t reckon many folks got the stomach for this kind of trail.”

“Well, I have to say, it doesn’t look like this path sees a lot of traffic,” Zach responded, his back beginning to ache from bumping along at the steep angle of ascent, his mouth dry from inhaling trail dust.

“See what I mean? That’s what is so odd about this corpse,” Tom mused. “This trail dead ends up on Apache Ridge. There’s no way anyone could have walked in from the south. This person had to come in from the north or west. Either that or this traveler was a mountain climber of some skill. Or maybe he was part goat.”

Scanning the surrounding vista, Zach had to agree. Water wouldn’t be the primary challenge here – the unwelcoming terrain would deter most interlopers, a high percentage of those who forged forward anyway being claimed by the desert. No question now why the county deputies had called in the Texas Rangers. Standard procedure would have been to simply let the county bury the dead and hope some next-of-kin eventually came looking for a lost loved one. But this… this was a puzzle.

The two riders continued their trek, passing through narrow canyons and traversing through fields of black, volcanic rock. Zach lost count of the switchbacks, at one point questioning if he could’ve found his way back to the ranch.

Eventually, they entered flatter ground, the plateau offering a splendid panoramic view including the distant Chisos Mountains. Emory Peak, the 7800-foot centerpiece of Big Bend Park, was clearly visible on the horizon.

Tom wasn’t in the mood to sightsee, turning Daisy Mae and pointing toward a low formation of rocks, he announced, “It’s over there.”

A few minutes later, Zach dismounted, his eyes focused on the yellow bones and scraps of clothing still surrounding the body. The elements, birds, and insects had scoured every bit of flesh from the skeleton. The ranger knew that in this unforgiving environment, only a few weeks of exposure could have produced this result, but estimated these remains had been here for a much longer period of time. Windswept dust had partially covered some of the smaller bones, and the lightened hue indicated a year or more of bleaching by the sun.

He slowly circled the remains, not expecting any investigational epiphany, more so to get a feel for the position of the body and its surroundings. His methodology was to construct a story that explained the scene, but what lay before him contradicted the stereotypical demise of an undocumented alien. He noted the conspicuous absence of any satchel of clothing, empty water jugs, or food wrappers in the area – garbage that typically accompanied those trying to sneak across the border.

She had somehow hiked to the spot, an almost certain fact. Given the nearly flat surroundings, this outcropping would have been the only shady spot in the area. It was easy to imagine a thirsty, hurting woman struggling with each step. The sun, combined with her ever-thickening blood, would cause an extremely painful headache. To escape from the heat would have appealed to her.

She sat down to rest with her back to the rocks. Allowing for the position of the body and the respective angle of the sun, Zach estimated her arrival at late afternoon. She had never managed her feet again.

The lawman pulled his camera from the saddlebag, powering up the device and snapping a series of photographs from every vantage.

Moving in closer, his eyes scrutinized each small section of her skeleton, starting from the feet and moving up. The first thing he noticed was the absence of any shoes. Even the poorest, most desperate border crashers know not to attempt a desert crossing without protecting their feet.

Zach squatted down for a better view, clearly intrigued by the deepening mystery.

Maybe someone robbed her and took her shoes
, the ranger reasoned.

She was young, he guessed, that determination gathered from a pelvis that displayed no telltale indicator of childbirth and the condition of her teeth. There was no way he could determine her actual age without lab results.

A faded swath of cloth caught the ranger’s eye. Removing a pencil from his pocket, Zach gently brushed aside a thin layer of dust and sand, finally exposing a two-inch length of material. Holding the decomposing fabric in the light, he could identify a strip of elastic bordering a thin, almost sheer material. There was still enough dye left to detect a colorful pattern… a pattern with balloons.

I’ve seen this before
, he suddenly realized.
The hooker… Tusk… the woman I accidently shot.

Shaking his head, Zach dismissed the thought. Hundreds, if not thousands, of female panties may have been manufactured with that design. It was probably just a coincidence.
Still, she was probably about the right age…

He continued examining the body, his next discovery even more troubling. She wore two rings on her right hand, one of them containing a sizeable amount of gold.
Well, whatever happened here, this definitely wasn’t a robbery
, Zach pondered
. Thieves would have snatched that jewelry before her body was cold.

The ranger finished his work, returning to the packhorse and retrieving a thick, plastic body bag and a shovel. They would haul her back down and send the remains to Austin for a complete autopsy.

With the body bag riding unceremoniously in the bed of the truck, Zach placed a call the minute he had cell service.

“Officer Hinton here, how may I help you,” answered the polite voice.

“Hey copper, it’s Zach Bass. How’s tricks?”

“Well, my, my…. What a pleasant surprise, Ranger Bass. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Do you remember that woman I turned over to you in Alpine a few years back? At the hospital? The one I found with all that cash?”

There was a pause, the state trooper trying to recall. “Yeah! Sure do. You were off to solve the problems of the world, and I was supposed to clean up after your messy ass. Why?”

“Whatever became of her?”

“Your boss bailed you out, Bass. About 10 minutes after you left me carrying your bags, Major Alcorn showed up and took her off my hands. He said he was taking over the investigation, and I should resume my regular duties. That was the last I saw of her.”

Zach was a little taken aback by Hinton’s answer, his mind swirling as it assimilated the new information.

“Zach? You still there?”

“Yeah, sorry Hinton. I just wasn’t expecting that answer. No biggie, though. Hey, thanks, man. Talk to you soon.”

Zach continued driving into Alpine, wondering if his morbid cargo had made the same trip two years ago, chauffeured by the same ranger.

The riddle bothered him so much, that he decided to go out on a limb and dial Major Alcorn.

“What can I do for you, Ranger Bass?” came the gruff answer, the major no doubt having figured out how to use caller ID.

“Sir, sorry to bother you, but I am working a case and had a quick question. Do you recall the incident with that cartel goon named Tusk about two years ago?”

“Yes. Yes, I do.”

“I just talked with Trooper Hinton, and he informed me that he turned the witness over to your custody that day. I was wondering if you could fill me in from there?”

Across the cell connection, it was difficult to be sure, but Zach sensed Alcorn was uncomfortable with the question. After clearing his throat, the ranger commander responded with a question of his own, “Where are you now, Zach?”

“I’m bringing a body into the morgue at Alpine. A rancher down by Black Gap found the deceased yesterday, and the circumstances were unusual enough that the deputies called me in.”

“I’m in Fort Davis,” announced Alcorn. “I can meet you there in about an hour. Is it the same girl?”

Zach actually pulled the phone away from his ear, staring at the device in shock.
How could you possibly know that?
Zach marveled.

“Ranger Bass, are you there?”

“Yes, sir. Sorry, I lost you there for a second. Cell signal out here is spotty,” Zach lied, trying to buy time to think.

“Is the body you found the same girl?”

“There’s no way to be sure, sir, but there is some evidence pointing me in that direction.”

“I’ll meet you at the diner in Alpine in an hour,” the senior man stated and then disconnected the call.

“This day is going to be more interesting than I thought,” Zach mused.

Major Alcorn strolled into the greasy spoon right on cue. Zach had dropped the female remains at the morgue, signed the paperwork, and was swallowing his second cup of coffee.

The two peace officers checked the menu, both ordering the lunch special of chicken fried steak, green beans, and mashed potatoes.

“On the day you left for New Orleans, I changed my mind about assigning the case to Trooper Hinton. He’s a good man and a fine officer, but since there was a shooting involved, I thought it best if we handled the case inside our own department.”

“Makes sense,” Zach replied, trying to appear casual about the whole affair.

Alcorn continued, “I took the witness back to the scene. She walked me through what had happened so I could give the most accurate report possible.”

Sipping his coffee, Zach met his boss’s gaze over the rim of the cup. Alcorn seemed pissed.

“Why did you feel it necessary to taint the crime scene, Ranger Bass?”

Zach’s heart stopped, a perceptible streak of icy cold surging through his core. “Sir?”

“Oh, come now, Ranger. Do you think I’m a fool? It was your bullet that hit that woman,” the supervisor demanded, swallowing a bite and noisily flinging the fork on the ceramic plate. “And while that’s not any big deal, your sloppy attempt to modify the evidence could have been. Thank gawd that cartel enforcer died; I can’t imagine exposing your story to the scrutiny of a trial. You fucked up in so many ways, son. You should consider yourself lucky that I did the follow-up and not someone else.” Alcorn paused his lecture, sipping from the mug before initiating somewhat intimidating eye contact with his charge.