Buena Rosa Chapter Four

Chapter Four
There had been no serious attempt to make the Buena Rosa Police Department attractive when it had been built sometime in the ‘70s. From the glass brick entry way, to the white painted cinderblock bulk of the building itself, it was an exercise in utility, nothing more. Manuel entered alone, leaving Snowflake to watch the front from down the street.
Night was fully upon the town, and Manuel almost expected to find the glass double doors locked up tight, but they swung open with an easy push when tried. The front counter was deserted even though the lights were on. Behind the counter was a wooden divider that reached to the ceiling, and halfway to the walls on either side. “Buena Rosa” was spelled out in brushed steel letters a foot high, and suspended from the ceiling by wires a few inches from the divider. The indistinct sound of grunting reached Manuel’s ears as he pushed thorough the doors into the lobby, making a bell above the doorway jingle.
Immediately, there was a sound of cursing in Spanish and what could only be the rustle of clothes. Seconds later, a uniformed Sheriff’s deputy rounded the divider with a sour expression beneath his thin mustache. The brass nametag gave his name as Attencio, and Manuel gauged him to be in his early twenties. A few inches taller than Manuel, he also had more muscle mass and broader shoulders, giving the impression that he might have played basketball in high school. Deputy Attencio had heavy eyebrows, and they knit together with annoyance at Manuel’s interruption.
“Can I help you with something?”
Manuel gave the deputy his most conciliatory smile and tone. “Yes. I’m looking for my cousin. She’s gone missing.”
Deputy Attencio licked his lips and looked back towards where he came from for a second, perhaps regretting that he had not locked the station door. Manuel followed his gaze and saw a blue sequined purse hanging on the back of a desk chair. So he was right in assuming that it wasn’t work that his visit had interrupted, Manuel thought. The deputy rolled his head on his shoulders, loosening up his neck, and then pulled out a clipboard from under the counter.
“Name?”
“My cousin’s name is Esther Vega,” Manuel enunciated clearly and slowly.
Attencio paused then looked up at Manuel, his eyes narrowed slightly. “Esther Vega? 29 years old, 5’4” tall with straight black hair and a butterfly tattoo on the small of her back?”
“You know her?”
The deputy put the clipboard back under the counter, a thin, hard smile on his face. Manuel noticed for the first time that the deputy was wearing his gun belt, and that his fingers were dangerously close to it. “I know her. She isn’t missing. She’s under arrest.”
“She’s been arrested? There must be some kind of mistake.”
“No, no mistake, señor. She killed another woman. She’s very dangerous, this cousin of yours.”
“But she couldn’t hurt anyone, especially not killed someone. There must be some kind of misunderstanding.”
“But she already admitted that she killed this girl. She gave us a signed confession.”
“Isn’t there some kind of arrangement we can come to? I know she couldn’t have done something like this.” Manuel piled on as much charm as he could, but it wasn’t looking good. The deputy wasn’t giving any opportunity for Manuel to offer up a bribe. That’s the way the dance was done, but it felt like they were dancing to different songs. Either Deputy Attencio was new to this game or he was one of those rare breed: an honest cop. Unless. Unless there was something more going on in this town, he realized.
“Arrangement? I don’t think you heard me. Your cousin signed a confession saying that she killed someone. What kind of arrangement were you thinking of, eh?”
Clearly open bribery was not going to work, so Manuel changed tactics. “I was hoping that I could at least talk to her and make sure she’s okay.”
Deputy Attencio smiled at mention of Esther’s safety. It was a wolf’s smile, and it chilled Manuel to the bone. It was not done as a show of happiness. It was a challenge. Manuel could see it in the deputy’s eyes. “You suggesting that your cousin is unsafe in our care, Mr. – I’m sorry. I didn’t get your name.”
“Manuel de la Vega. I am not planning on being in town for long. When can I see her?”
The sneer on Deputy Attencio’s face was certain to precede a particularly cutting answer to Manuel’s question, if his reply hadn’t been interrupted by a voice from the other side of the divider. “Ray, before you say something stupid, why don’t you go back to your...desk.”
It was an older voice, calm and weathered, and it came from around the right side of the divider while Attencio had come from around on the left. Heralded by the call to reason that he had given the young deputy, a balding uniformed officer stepped out into the lobby. He appeared to be in his fifties, his hair trimmed almost to his scalp and peppered with gray. The name badge read “Aldovar”, and unlike Attencio, his smile seemed genuine.
“Are you the sheriff?” Manuel asked, trying to keep his cool. He had been certain for a moment that Detective Attencio had been seconds away from doing something stupid, either arresting him or quite possibly shooting him. And even thought Aldovar was essentially a clean slate, he still had the sense that something was off, and made the decision not to pursue a bribery angle just yet.
For his part, Aldovar came to the counter with a friendly, can-do attitude. “I would like to apologize for Ray. The passion of the young is not exactly tempered by experience. Oh, and I am not the sheriff. He left hours ago, but he will be in again tomorrow around ten. You said you were a relative of the prisoner?”
Manuel nodded and hobbled the rest of the way to the counter. He pulled out his wallet and handed his Mexico driver’s license across to Aldovar. “She’s my cousin. Her father knew I was coming through the area and asked me to look in on her. Uncle Chuy hadn’t heard from her in a while and he was getting worried. Now I see he had reason to be concerned.”
Deputy Aldovar finished recording the information from Manuel’s license and handed it back. “We have had some difficulty in reaching Miss Vega’s father.” Which Manuel took as code to mean that the problem they were having is that they hadn’t tried. His uncle rarely if ever left his workshop in Taxco where he did silverwork. If they had tried to reach him, they would have.
“I will try to reach him again and will confirm that you are related to Miss Vega.” Which was code to mean that they might call Uncle Chuy, but probably not, and they would do a background check on Manuel since he was now in town and, as they said in America, “up in their grill.”
“I understand.” Manuel said, which was code for nothing. He had no choice but to let the local police set the ground rules for this encounter. At least no choice yet, he thought, and his thoughts turned painfully to the leathers and bike that Snowflake claimed to have brought to Mexico.
“And I will let Sheriff Bragga know that you are in town and wish to arrange a visit. It shouldn’t be a problem, but in a case like this, it is best to follow procedure. Are you staying at the Soledad?”
“Yes. You can reach me there or leave a message if I’m out.”
Deputy Aldovar nodded, making notes on the same page he had recorded the drivers license number. “Once again, I am sorry for the unpleasantness earlier. If you have any questions or further concerns, please call and ask for Pedro Aldovar.”
Manuel nodded. “That would be you?”
“Si. In the meantime, enjoy your stay in Buena Rosa. If you get a chance, try the Casa del Rancho. Best breakfast in town.”
“Casa del Rancho?”
“On the southern edge of town, it’s easy to miss, but their chorizo and eggs with a little cojita sprinkled on top – I tell you, it is the best food in Buena Rosa.”
“Thanks. And my cousin?”
“She will be right here. I will take it up with Sheriff Bragga when he gets in. You should be able to talk to her tomorrow.”
It was going to have to be good enough, Manuel thought. He nodded, and saw that his apparent satisfaction was well received by the deputy. “I will see you tomorrow then.”
“Muy buien. Have a safe trip back to your hotel and we will speak again tomorrow.”
Manuel rendezvoused with Snowflake further down the block. The panda was sitting in the cab of a battered looking pickup he had brought with him to Buena Rosa. Despite his assurances to Manuel the there was a 5.1-litre HEMI engine under the hood, the trucks usefulness in a pinch had yet to be tested, and Manuel remained skeptical. Still disguised as an American tourist, the panda was contentedly munching on sunflower seeds, watching the front of the police station in the side mirror of the truck. Manuel paused for a rest at the passenger window and leaned against the scarred and pitted red door.
“How did it go in there?”
“Got a good lead on breakfast for tomorrow.”
“The Casa del Rancho? Yeah, good food. Anything else?”
Manuel shrugged, then looked casually over his shoulder in the direction of the station. No sign of any movement, but that could change. “Well, she’s there. It doesn’t look like bribery is an option at the moment, so I’m kind of winging it.”
“I like winging it. Good plan, boss. So, next step?”
“I’m going to play concerned family member for a bit. Stay here another twenty minutes or so to see if they put a tail on me. They know where I’m staying so they might just watch the hotel, in which case its best if we don’t go in together.”
“You don’t think they’ll figure out that I’m here with you?”
Manuel bought some time by making a show of stretching out his arms. “You got here a few days before me, and you’re a gringo.”
“I’m a panda, but point taken.”
“At this point, they think I’m still living in Mexico, but I don’t know how far they’re going to dig. Eventually, they will probably figure out you’re not just some tourist. But I don’t want to make it easy for them either.”
Snowflake cracked another sunflower seed. “And when they figure it out?”
“Well they might arrest you, at which point they are likely to figure out you aren’t human. That could be a problem.”
Neither of them said nothing for a several long moments, and then Manuel de la Vega pushed himself away from the truck door to finish his walk to the hotel. He only made it a few steps before Snowflake stopped him. “Hey boss?” The panda called softly from the cab of the truck.
Manuel half turned to look back at Snowflake.
“It’s great working with you again,” the panda who was not a panda said with a delighted wink and smile.
Manuel said nothing in return, but he found his sidekick - his “Sancho Panda’s” - enthusiasm just a bit contagious. He committed himself to the task at hand of humping the four blocks back to the hotel. The deputy’s final words to him concerned him a bit. He repeated them back to himself under his breath. “Have a safe trip back to the hotel.”
He shook his head. It might have been a simple warning. It might have been a threat. As long as Snowflake was watching the station, he felt relatively safe.
But he had no way to suspect that his entire curbside conversation had been witnessed by someone entirely unknown to the both of them. And as Manuel stumped down the street and out of sight, that unknown figure rolled a motorcycle silently back down the alley. Then, safely out of earshot of the truck, they started the cycle and rode off into the dark night of Buena Rosa.