Read Online Privileged to Kill by Steven F. Havill - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Steven F. Havill
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the weakening October sunshine. I’d never met Thomas Lawton, but I could imagine him grimacing with annoyance when he heard the telephone.
“Yep,” the voice said after the ninth ring.
“Mr. Lawton?”
“Yep.”
I glanced at the wall clock again and then jotted down 7:35 A.M. in my notebook. Detective Estelle Reyes-Guzman had gone to the high school to assist Sergeant Torrez, and I planned to join the party myself. Principal Glen Archer was going to have a wonderful Friday. It would have been simpler for him to just close the school for the day, but not for us. There were too many people we needed to talk to.
“Sorry to bother you so early,” I said. “This is Undersheriff William Gastner, down in Posadas, New Mexico. I am looking for some information on a man you may have met a while ago.”
There was a moment of silence, and Lawton said, “Who did you say you was?”
“I’m with the Posadas County Sheriff’s Department down in Posadas, New Mexico.”
“Where the hell is that?”
I smiled. “Posadas is over in the southwestern corner of the state. About twenty miles from the Mexican border.”
“Huh,” Lawton said.
“I’d be happy to leave my telephone number and you can call me back collect, if you like. Ask the dispatcher to transfer you to Undersheriff Gastner.”
“No, no. That ain’t necessary. I’ll take your word you’re who you say you are. What can I do for you?”
“Do you know a gentleman named Wesley Crocker?”
“Crocker…”
“Short, stocky, late middle age. Rides a bicycle.”
“Oh…well, son of a gun. Sure. He spent some time here. Helped me out of a real jam. Say, I hope he’s all right.”
“He’s fine. And he speaks highly of you.”
Lawton chuckled. “Well, I tell you what. I ain’t never talked so much in three days as I did when he was here. He had more questions about this country than any ten historians. Seemed to know quite a bit, too. He even knew about Denning’s Pass, west of here, and I bet there aren’t ten men outside of the locals who know about that spot.”
“When was he there? At your place, I mean?”
“Let me think, now. Back in July, I think. What’s your interest in him?”
“We believe he may have been a witness to an incident here in Posadas. This call is just a routine background check to confirm some of the things he mentioned to us. He told us about your place.”
“Well, he was here. And he’s a good man. Can’t sit still in one spot, but he’s a good, God-fearing man.”
“Did he ever talk to you about a sister in California?”
Lawton hesitated. “Yep, he mentioned her a time or two.”
The door to my office opened and Ernie Wheeler stuck his head in. I held up a hand, but he just held up two fingers and mouthed, “It’s important.”
I nodded and said, “Mr. Lawton, hold on a moment, would you?”
As soon as he saw my hand slide over the receiver, Wheeler said, “There’s a Mrs. Elna Tyler long distance for you on line two.”
“Who the hell is Elna Tyler?”
“She says she’s Wesley Crocker’s sister, sir.”
“Christ.” I punched down the line one and hold buttons together, and then hit line two.
“Mrs. Tyler? This is Undersheriff Gastner.”
“I asked to speak with the sheriff,” a woman’s crisp voice said.
“Sheriff Holman isn’t in the office at the moment. I understand that you’re Wesley Crocker’s sister?”
“Yes, and I’d like to know what’s going on.”
“I’m glad you called, ma’am. I’m handling that case, and I’ll be with you just as soon as I wrap up another call. If you like, leave your number, and I’ll call you back in five minutes.”
She did so, and I switched back to Thomas Lawton. “Sir, did Mr. Crocker say anything about sending notes or a journal…diary pages, maybe…to his sister? That sort of thing?”
This time the hesitation was considerable, and I prompted “Mr. Lawton?” thinking that perhaps he’d hung up.
His voice was quiet
“Yep,” the voice said after the ninth ring.
“Mr. Lawton?”
“Yep.”
I glanced at the wall clock again and then jotted down 7:35 A.M. in my notebook. Detective Estelle Reyes-Guzman had gone to the high school to assist Sergeant Torrez, and I planned to join the party myself. Principal Glen Archer was going to have a wonderful Friday. It would have been simpler for him to just close the school for the day, but not for us. There were too many people we needed to talk to.
“Sorry to bother you so early,” I said. “This is Undersheriff William Gastner, down in Posadas, New Mexico. I am looking for some information on a man you may have met a while ago.”
There was a moment of silence, and Lawton said, “Who did you say you was?”
“I’m with the Posadas County Sheriff’s Department down in Posadas, New Mexico.”
“Where the hell is that?”
I smiled. “Posadas is over in the southwestern corner of the state. About twenty miles from the Mexican border.”
“Huh,” Lawton said.
“I’d be happy to leave my telephone number and you can call me back collect, if you like. Ask the dispatcher to transfer you to Undersheriff Gastner.”
“No, no. That ain’t necessary. I’ll take your word you’re who you say you are. What can I do for you?”
“Do you know a gentleman named Wesley Crocker?”
“Crocker…”
“Short, stocky, late middle age. Rides a bicycle.”
“Oh…well, son of a gun. Sure. He spent some time here. Helped me out of a real jam. Say, I hope he’s all right.”
“He’s fine. And he speaks highly of you.”
Lawton chuckled. “Well, I tell you what. I ain’t never talked so much in three days as I did when he was here. He had more questions about this country than any ten historians. Seemed to know quite a bit, too. He even knew about Denning’s Pass, west of here, and I bet there aren’t ten men outside of the locals who know about that spot.”
“When was he there? At your place, I mean?”
“Let me think, now. Back in July, I think. What’s your interest in him?”
“We believe he may have been a witness to an incident here in Posadas. This call is just a routine background check to confirm some of the things he mentioned to us. He told us about your place.”
“Well, he was here. And he’s a good man. Can’t sit still in one spot, but he’s a good, God-fearing man.”
“Did he ever talk to you about a sister in California?”
Lawton hesitated. “Yep, he mentioned her a time or two.”
The door to my office opened and Ernie Wheeler stuck his head in. I held up a hand, but he just held up two fingers and mouthed, “It’s important.”
I nodded and said, “Mr. Lawton, hold on a moment, would you?”
As soon as he saw my hand slide over the receiver, Wheeler said, “There’s a Mrs. Elna Tyler long distance for you on line two.”
“Who the hell is Elna Tyler?”
“She says she’s Wesley Crocker’s sister, sir.”
“Christ.” I punched down the line one and hold buttons together, and then hit line two.
“Mrs. Tyler? This is Undersheriff Gastner.”
“I asked to speak with the sheriff,” a woman’s crisp voice said.
“Sheriff Holman isn’t in the office at the moment. I understand that you’re Wesley Crocker’s sister?”
“Yes, and I’d like to know what’s going on.”
“I’m glad you called, ma’am. I’m handling that case, and I’ll be with you just as soon as I wrap up another call. If you like, leave your number, and I’ll call you back in five minutes.”
She did so, and I switched back to Thomas Lawton. “Sir, did Mr. Crocker say anything about sending notes or a journal…diary pages, maybe…to his sister? That sort of thing?”
This time the hesitation was considerable, and I prompted “Mr. Lawton?” thinking that perhaps he’d hung up.
His voice was quiet
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