Read Online The Big Gamble by Michael McGarrity - Free Book Online
Authors: Michael McGarrity
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Either way, he was ready to be a dad.
After striking out on his attempt to locate Ulibarri through his employer in Albuquerque, Clayton arrived at the Mescalero Apache resort and casino, hoping he would find him there gambling with Humphrey’s money, which, not surprisingly, hadn’t turned up in the ruins of the fire.
Situated in a high valley a few miles outside the city of Ruidoso, the tribal enterprise was a cash cow that drew year-round vacationers and gamblers from all parts of New Mexico and surrounding states. It offered skiing in the winter and all the usual summer recreation activities, such as golf, boating, trail rides, tennis, and swimming, along with twenty-four-hour gaming at the casino, which was within easy walking distance from the lodge and guest rooms.
The lodge had cedar-shingle siding, a high-pitched roof, and an expansive deck that overlooked the lake and the mountains beyond. Small streams, some coursing over man-made rock beds, others cutting through carefully tended lawns, flowed down the hill in front of the lodge into the lake. Small stands of pine and aspen trees and winding walkways gave the grounds a parklike feel.
Most of the permanent employees were tribal members, and the woman at the reception desk was no exception. Barbara Chato, an old classmate from high school, smiled as Clayton approached.
“You never come here anymore, stranger, now that you’ve left us,” she said.
“I haven’t left,” Clayton replied. “I just work off the rez.”
Barbara shrugged. “That’s too bad. Billy Naiche made sergeant last week. I heard you would’ve gotten the promotion if you hadn’t quit the department.”
“Good for Billy,” Clayton said as he put Felix Ulibarri’s photo on the counter. “Have you seen this man?”
Barbara shook her head.
“Can you check and see if a Felix Ulibarri is registered?”
Barbara’s fingers clicked away at the computer keyboard while her eyes scanned the monitor. “We don’t having anybody by that name staying here.”
“Maybe he already checked out.”
Barbara punched a few keys. “There’s no guest record under that name.”
“How about somebody with the same initials?” Clayton asked.
“No.”
“Can you check on people who paid in cash when they registered?”
“Give me a minute,” Barbara replied as she opened another computer file. “We had two in the last week. A Mr. and Mrs. Herbert Weber from Lubbock, Texas, and a Fred Villanueva from Albuquerque.”
“Is Villanueva still here?”
“He left yesterday.”
“Does his registration form show any vehicle information?”
“I’ll have to get that from the business office,” Barbara said, picking up a telephone.
She dialed a number, made her request, and after a few minutes handed a scribbled note to Clayton. He read it and smiled. The vehicle make and license plate number matched that of Humphrey’s car.
“Thanks, Barbara.”
“Well, at least now you’re smiling,” Barbara said as Clayton stepped toward the administration wing.
Moses Kaywaykla, chief of security, wasn’t in his office, but his secretary called for him on the radio and he arrived within a few minutes. Just an inch shorter than Clayton’s five-ten frame, Kaywaykla was dark skinned, and had deep creases on either side of his mouth and deep-set eyes that gave him a crabby, somewhat wary appearance. In fact, Kaywaykla had a reputation in the tribe as a good storyteller. Moses was also particularly admired among the men for his bawdy jokes.
Kaywaykla, Clayton’s uncle by marriage, dropped his handheld radio on his desk and nodded a greeting at Clayton. In his late forties, Moses always wore a business suit to work with a pair of expensive cowboy boots. Today the suit was dark brown, the shirt blue with a regimental striped tie, the boots a pair of black alligator Larry Mahans.
“So, are you tired of working for the sheriff yet?” Moses asked.
“Not yet,” Clayton replied.
“When you
After striking out on his attempt to locate Ulibarri through his employer in Albuquerque, Clayton arrived at the Mescalero Apache resort and casino, hoping he would find him there gambling with Humphrey’s money, which, not surprisingly, hadn’t turned up in the ruins of the fire.
Situated in a high valley a few miles outside the city of Ruidoso, the tribal enterprise was a cash cow that drew year-round vacationers and gamblers from all parts of New Mexico and surrounding states. It offered skiing in the winter and all the usual summer recreation activities, such as golf, boating, trail rides, tennis, and swimming, along with twenty-four-hour gaming at the casino, which was within easy walking distance from the lodge and guest rooms.
The lodge had cedar-shingle siding, a high-pitched roof, and an expansive deck that overlooked the lake and the mountains beyond. Small streams, some coursing over man-made rock beds, others cutting through carefully tended lawns, flowed down the hill in front of the lodge into the lake. Small stands of pine and aspen trees and winding walkways gave the grounds a parklike feel.
Most of the permanent employees were tribal members, and the woman at the reception desk was no exception. Barbara Chato, an old classmate from high school, smiled as Clayton approached.
“You never come here anymore, stranger, now that you’ve left us,” she said.
“I haven’t left,” Clayton replied. “I just work off the rez.”
Barbara shrugged. “That’s too bad. Billy Naiche made sergeant last week. I heard you would’ve gotten the promotion if you hadn’t quit the department.”
“Good for Billy,” Clayton said as he put Felix Ulibarri’s photo on the counter. “Have you seen this man?”
Barbara shook her head.
“Can you check and see if a Felix Ulibarri is registered?”
Barbara’s fingers clicked away at the computer keyboard while her eyes scanned the monitor. “We don’t having anybody by that name staying here.”
“Maybe he already checked out.”
Barbara punched a few keys. “There’s no guest record under that name.”
“How about somebody with the same initials?” Clayton asked.
“No.”
“Can you check on people who paid in cash when they registered?”
“Give me a minute,” Barbara replied as she opened another computer file. “We had two in the last week. A Mr. and Mrs. Herbert Weber from Lubbock, Texas, and a Fred Villanueva from Albuquerque.”
“Is Villanueva still here?”
“He left yesterday.”
“Does his registration form show any vehicle information?”
“I’ll have to get that from the business office,” Barbara said, picking up a telephone.
She dialed a number, made her request, and after a few minutes handed a scribbled note to Clayton. He read it and smiled. The vehicle make and license plate number matched that of Humphrey’s car.
“Thanks, Barbara.”
“Well, at least now you’re smiling,” Barbara said as Clayton stepped toward the administration wing.
Moses Kaywaykla, chief of security, wasn’t in his office, but his secretary called for him on the radio and he arrived within a few minutes. Just an inch shorter than Clayton’s five-ten frame, Kaywaykla was dark skinned, and had deep creases on either side of his mouth and deep-set eyes that gave him a crabby, somewhat wary appearance. In fact, Kaywaykla had a reputation in the tribe as a good storyteller. Moses was also particularly admired among the men for his bawdy jokes.
Kaywaykla, Clayton’s uncle by marriage, dropped his handheld radio on his desk and nodded a greeting at Clayton. In his late forties, Moses always wore a business suit to work with a pair of expensive cowboy boots. Today the suit was dark brown, the shirt blue with a regimental striped tie, the boots a pair of black alligator Larry Mahans.
“So, are you tired of working for the sheriff yet?” Moses asked.
“Not yet,” Clayton replied.
“When you
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