Read Online Here Today, Gone Tamale by Rebecca Adler - Free Book Online Page B

excited? Was this guy’s face on the newest batch of wanted posters hanging on the sheriff department’s wall of shame?
    The young man’s hands flew up. “Hey, dude, it’s cool. Chill.”
    â€œWait!” I shouted.
    Without looking back, Lightfoot barked. “What?”
    â€œWe’ve met before, haven’t we?” I asked the young man.
    â€œAbso-freaking-lutely, if you say so.” He flung me a look of desperation. “Tell Tonto to back off.”
    After that racist comment, I wasn’t about to say a word.
    â€œStep away from the vehicle,” Lightfoot’s order rang loud and clear.
    As the would-be driver stepped clear of Dixie’s van, the deputy clamped his right hand to his holster.
    â€œWhoa, man, you’ve got the wrong idea.”
    â€œWhat idea would that be?”
    â€œMaybe you think I’m stealing this van,” the young man threw his arms out wide, “but I ain’t.”
    â€œKeep your hands where I can see them.” Lightfoot drew his pistol.
    Two hands flew up to either side of the young man’s ears and froze.
    â€œYou’re telling me you’re the owner of this van?”
    No longer grinning, the young man licked his lips and swallowed two or three times. “Okay, I ain’t exactly the owner. It’s my aunt’s.”
    Lightfoot didn’t give any quarter. “Show me your license.”
    Ty started for his back pocket.
    â€œEasy,” Lightfoot said. “Take it nice and slow.”
    After a thorough inspection of the proffered driver’s license, the deputy holstered his sidearm. “Where were you last night?”
    A shadow fell over Ty Honeycutt’s face. “I was playing cards.”
    Driven by a surge of righteous anger, I rushed toward him. “Why didn’t you pick Dixie up last night, like you promised?”
    Aunt Linda called my name.
    â€œShe’d be alive today if you hadn’t forgotten she existed.”
    Lightfoot stepped between us and gave me a hard look. “That’s a bit harsh.”
    With a jerk, Ty turned his head away. “You’re right,” hesaid, his voice full of unshed tears. “I killed her. I ain’t ever gonna forgive myself.”
    In a voice devoid of emotion or inflection, Lightfoot murmured, “What do you mean you killed her?” He could have been asking what time the El Paso train arrived at the Broken Boot station.
    Ty rubbed his wet eyes with his knuckles.
    â€œShe might’ve lived if I’d been with her. Instead she died alone in that alley like a hobo.”
    In spite of my self-righteous anger, I was feeling guilty myself. We’d all heard her comment that her arm was aching during the
tamalada
, but none of us had taken her complaint seriously.
    I paused to form my words carefully, trying hard not to cast the first stone. “You told me you were coming to get her. What happened?”
    Ty’s tearful gaze begged me to understand. “They repossessed my Mustang last night around six o’clock.”
    â€œThen why did you promise to pick Dixie up?” Aunt Linda asked, placing an arm around me, reading me and my guilt as easy as the Sunday paper.
    â€œI was winning.” Ty leaned back against the side of the dented van. “Almost had enough to find that repo man and pay him off on the spot.”
    â€œLet me guess,” I muttered. “You lost it all.” This guy had lost all his money while Dixie lay dying, waiting on him to arrive.
    Straightening his shoulders, he lifted his chin. “I did come to get her, afterwards. Ask Yancey Burrows. I borrowed his El Camino.”
    From my other side, Senora Mari spoke up. “You lie.” She shook her finger and advanced on him.
    Ty turned to Lightfoot, desperation furrowing his brow. “I swear I stopped by here, but she wasn’t waiting outside on the bench like you said.”
    With a warning
whoop, whoop
of