The Big Gamble - Michael Mcgarrity [60]
In the living room Rojas directed Clayton to a sitting area in front of a window that looked out on a lighted landscaped interior courtyard with a fountain.
“How can I help you?” he asked.
“Have you seen Harry Staggs today?” Clayton asked.
“No, but he called me to apologize for any trouble he might have caused. I told him he’d done the right thing by talking to the police. After all, a man has been murdered. That’s far more serious than getting busted for playing an illegal game of chance. Are you here to arrest me?” Rojas smiled charmingly. “I must tell you my reputation will suffer if you do.”
Clayton shook his head. “That’s not my intention.”
“What a relief,” Rojas said with a chuckle, as though it was all a big joke.
“Did Staggs tell you what his plans were?”
“I didn’t know Harry had any plans, other than to obey all the gambling laws in New Mexico. He told me you’d shut down his operation.”
“We think he’s left Ruidoso,” Clayton replied.
“I wouldn’t have any idea where he might have gone,” Rojas said.
“Do you know a man named Johnny Jackson?”
Rojas shook his head. “Sorry, I don’t. I’m not very helpful, am I?”
“Do you know this woman?” Clayton said, holding out the blonde’s photograph.
Rojas took it. “She doesn’t look familiar.”
“You were seen with her at the Ruidoso airport.”
Rojas didn’t blink. “That’s not possible.” He rose from his chair. “Excuse me for a minute. I think I can clear up the confusion.”
He came back in the company of a strikingly attractive blonde. “Deborah, this is Deputy Sheriff Istee. He wants to ask you a few questions. Deborah is my girlfriend.”
Deborah smiled at Clayton with pretty blue eyes, shook his hand, and answered all his questions. Yes, she’d flown to Ruidoso with Rojas. No, she wasn’t at the poker game. She’d spent that night at Rojas’s vacation home, and stayed over an additional day after Luis had returned to El Paso.
“Did you go anywhere, see anybody, do anything?” Clayton asked.
“I took several hikes by myself,” Deborah replied. “But I didn’t see anybody. Other than that, I didn’t go out at all.”
“How did you get back to El Paso?”
“I drove Luis’s SUV. That’s why I went with him. He’s trading it in for a new one, and he asked me if I’d like a few days in the mountains in exchange for doing him a favor. I jumped at the chance to get out of the city and be by myself for a while.”
“What kind of vehicle did you get?” Clayton asked Rojas.
“I’m still shopping around,” Rojas replied, “although I’m considering a Mercedes. It’s a civilian version of a military vehicle used by the German army. Are you familiar with it?”
Clayton had read somewhere that the movie stars who made action flicks and owned ranches in Montana all had them. He’d seen photographs. They were macho adult toys that went for about a hundred thousand dollars. Almost four times his annual salary.
“Yeah, I’ve seen pictures,” Clayton said, concentrating his attention on Deborah. “Are you sure no neighbors saw you at the vacation house?”
“I have no neighbors,” Rojas said. “It’s very secluded.”
“Where is it?”
“I’ve had a map drawn up for friends,” Rojas said, “so they won’t get lost when they visit. I’ll give you a copy.”
He opened an end-table drawer and handed Clayton the map. The retreat was on private land surrounded by national forest, northeast of the village of Alto.
“That’s deep in the mountains,” Clayton said.
“Which is why I need good transportation to get to it,” Rojas said. “Especially in bad weather.”
“I bet you do,” Clayton said as he folded the map into his shirt pocket and looked at Deborah. “I’ll need to see your driver’s license, miss.”
“What on earth for?” Deborah asked.
“My report.”
Deborah smiled. “Of course. I’ll get my purse.”
She fetched her purse and handed Clayton her license.
“You have your own place?” Clayton asked, noting the address on the license.
“Yes, but I’m here a lot,” Deborah said, sliding her arm around Rojas’s waist.
He made sure all the license information was current, got a work and home phone number, and closed his notebook.