Baca - Page 14

“The arrowheads. They’re Chumash. Lived in these mountains for thousands of years.”

“Thank you, Professor Leakey.” I turned to Mickey, who was about to cry again, “Mickey, did Bob collect arrowheads?”

“No, not that I ever saw.”

I puzzled over it, then started looking at the scraps of paper, turning them with a broken stem of grass. There were several numbers written on individual pieces, and the last one had a jumble of words.

“Bingo,” I said. Hondo and Mickey looked over my shoulder and read: Valdar Deco Urgent Paint Martinez Chumash. There had been something written after Chumash, but the paper was torn and all that was left was a bow-shaped line that could have been the start of anything. I thought maybe an O or a C.

Hondo reached over and pointed at the word Chumash, then stood up and grinned. “Knowledge is power,” he said.

This was enough for me. I borrowed Mickey’s cell phone and called my friend, Vick Best with the Sheriff’s department. I thought our location was county jurisdiction and things were not looking rosy for Bob Landman. I told Vick where we were.

He said, “We’ll be right out, don’t go anywhere.”

I told the others and we sat down to wait. It was an hour before the deputies showed up on four-wheelers. We talked it through and the deputies went into the draw to talk to the women and to put out any coals in the fire ring. Sergeant Vick Best said to Hondo and me, “You two going to Texas any time soon?”

“I don’t think so,” I said.

“You do talk to people back there, right?”

“Sure.”

“Okay, it’ll square us up if you get them to send a care package this way.”

“Like what?”

“Last time I went through Texas near San Antonio I ate some local chips and salsa that were almost addictive. About three big bags of Julio’s chips and three jars of his salsa would be just fine.”

Hondo said, “I can eat a bag of those in about five seconds.”

“Tell me about it.” Vick looked around and said, “It’ll be official now, we’ll list Landman as a Missing Person. We’re going to be a while up here, but you three can leave. We’ll take the women in, get them cleaned, and fed, then call immigration. If it’s like last time, they’ll tell us to turn them loose because they don’t have anybody that can come. We’ll probably hold these women for a couple days just to get a few meals into them.” He shook his head. You three go on, now. I know where to reach you.”

Mickey said, “And you’ll deliver Bob’s bike?”

“We will. Don’t worry about a thing. Now go, you all look bushed.”

**

By the time we rode back to the cars, Mickey had convinced us to stop at Landman’s home and rest a bit. We loaded the bikes and followed Mickey to the house and through the massive doors to a large entertainment room. I was starving and asked Mickey, “Do you think Bob would mind if we raided his kitchen?” She told us to stay, then scurried into the kitchen, eager to have something to do. Hondo and I sunk into two of the huge, comfortable chairs arranged in a semi-circle facing an enormous plasma screen television hung on the wall.

Hondo said, “What do you make of those other words and names, the way they were all jumbled together? They were arranged like a pile of rocks.”

“Beats me. We’ll just start with what we can figure out, and that’s Valdar.”

Hondo said, “Yeah, probably not too many Chumash around to ask.”

Mickey came back, pushing a food cart with assorted cold cuts, vegetables, cheeses, crackers, chips, sliced fruit, four types of dips, and showcased in the center was a plastic cylinder full of individually wrapped pieces of dried meat. The wrappers read: Kataki’s Gourmet Kobi Beef Jerky.

I pointed at the jerky and raised my eyebrows. Mickey said, “Bob receives cases of it every month from Japan. He did a commercial for it over there. It’s a big seller.”

Next to the jerky was an iced magnum of Cristal champagne, china plates, knives and forks, cloth napkins and three glasses.

Hondo said, “You whip all this up just now?”

Mickey blushed and turned her head, “It was nothing. I like doing it for you two.”

I looked at the champagne, “Bob likes this?”

Tags: Billy Kring Mystery
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