The Big Gamble - Michael Mcgarrity [21]
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 are, come and see me. I’ll make you my assistant, pay you good money.”
“Maybe after I qualify for a pension,” Clayton said.
Moses laughed. “That’s a long time for me to wait, nephew.”
“If I make you wait long enough, maybe I can have your job,” Clayton said with a smile, handing over a photograph. “I’m looking for this man. He was registered as Fred Villanueva. Checked out yesterday. His real name is Felix Ulibarri.”
“What did he do?” Moses asked, studying the photograph.
“Maybe murder.”
Kaywaykla’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t like murderers in my casino. It happened in your jurisdiction?”
“Yeah, that burned body we found in the fire outside Carrizozo,” Clayton replied. “The victim’s name was Humphrey. Ulibarri was one of his drinking buddies and supposedly came down here with him. Humphrey had just won a lot of money up at one of the pueblo casinos near Albuquerque. I’m thinking Ulibarri