Bad Country: A Novel by CB McKenzie Read Free Book Online

these recent crime scenes in Los Jarros, Luis?
    Not that I read of. So maybe you just learned something, brother. You know Police they always hold some things back, some evidence nobody would know about but the killer. They’re sneaky like that.
    Rodeo nodded. You got the folder ready for my job on the Res?
    Luis slid a manila folder down the counter. The folder contained newspaper clippings and hardcopies of downloads from the Internet which concerned the death of Samuel Esau Rocha, aged nineteen of Tucson, Arizona.
    Is this dead kid one of your relations, Luis?
    You know Second Wife Silk Snowball she’s related to half the Indians in southern Arizona someway, the storekeep said. And then my Encarnacion tribe they got Indian-Mexican connections from Texas to California. But this Katherine Rocha woman, I don’t think she’s Apache or Tohono O’odham. I think she’s registered Pascua Yaqui like you so you can be tribal on this and give her a good rate, but I heard that this old woman, she’s a piece of work and tight as Dick’s hatband so don’t take no checks from her.
    Thanks for the referral, Luis. I owe you ten dollars.
    Story of my life with you, the storekeep said.
    Rodeo lingered for several minutes saying nothing. Luis outwaited him.
    You seen Sirena Rae lately? Rodeo asked.
    Luis pulled a Bull Durham pouch and papers from his faded and stained shirt pocket and rolled a cigarette with his weird assortment of fingers, licked it shut, lit it and put the lighter on the counter. He stared at the Marines’ insignia on one side of the brass then turned the lighter over and read silently the inscription there—W HEN HE DIES I KNOW THIS M ARINE IS GOING TO H EAVEN BECAUSE HE HAS ALREADY BEEN TO H ELL . Luis took a long drag and sighed out smoke.
    Sirena Rae she came by here a few times when you was gone up to the Whites, Luis said. She was dressed like a Hand and driving that big black 4-by from her daddy’s rancho.
    What did she have to say for herself? Rodeo asked this almost reluctantly.
    Said she’d cleaned up. Said she’d quit stripping for good. Said rehab had changed her life. Said she’d hooked up with somebody in Tuxson for a while.
    Who?
    Some Anglo professor type from California with family money she said. But that didn’t work out.
    Rodeo kept his face neutral.
    How did she seem?
    Clean and sober, said Luis. But otherwise same’s usual. Luis smoked for a minute and Rodeo stared at the junk under the countertop. Just remember, brother, that as dangerous as she is drunk, that woman she’s more dangerous when her head is clear.
    Rodeo nodded.
    Stay away from the Sirenas of this world and get you a plain, fat woman who thinks a hot dog and popcorn at Walmart’s is a dinner date. That’s my counsel, said Luis. Sirena she’s messed up more good men around here than Marine Corps recruiters. And she tried to kill your dog. A man shouldn’t forget who tries to kill his dog.
    Thanks for the sage counsel, Luis.
    The advice around here is like the coffee, brother.
    *   *   *
    Rodeo left Twin Arrows and drove to the small town of Jarros, Arizona, stopped at the Records Office at the Los Jarros County Courthouse to make a partial payment on his outstanding land taxes, then went to County Jail to give his account of the discovery of the dead man near his property. Despite his greasy looks and a reputation as a lounge lizard, Deputy Raul “Pal” Real was efficient and capable and processed Rodeo’s statement in less than ten minutes.
    Ray coming in today, Raul? Rodeo asked.
    Not that I know of, pal. What you want with Sheriff?
    Just wondered what anybody knows about anything.
    Your man was dead probably about five days from yesterday, pal. Autopsy on him will take some days more since our preemminent Medical Examiner Doctor Boxer has got some backlog of unnecessarily deceased just recently.
    I was on vacation in the White Mountains for the whole of last week, said Rodeo. And he’s not “my