Bloodville by Don Bullis Read Free Book Online Page A

drawing looked a lot like Darlene Concho's husband. Mat Torrez relayed word to the roadblocks that the subject in the drawing might be traveling with an Indian woman, believed to be his wife, two small children and an Indian male, age uncertain.
    Budwister showed Flossie a mug shot he‘d pulled from Albuquerque police files while he waited for his sketch to be copied. ―Yes,‖ she said. ―That's the man.‖ Budwister smiled to himself and put the picture in his shirt pocket. He went in search of Doc.
    Scarberry found Budwister first. ―You the APD guy that did the drawing of the suspect?‖ He asked, a heavy scowl on his puffy face.
―Yes sir, I am.‖
―We won't be needin' any more of your services. You're dismissed.‖ Scarberry started to turn away.
―You might want to know, Chief, that Mrs. Rice just identified a mug shot of...."
―Look,‖ Scarberry said loudly and condescendingly as he turned back toward Budwister, ―this is a State Police investigation. We don't need anything else you got to offer so just haul your hillbilly ass on outta here!‖
―And you're welcome all to hell, too, asshole!‖ Budwister didn‘t feel obliged to take insult from an officer in another department, even a high ranking one.
Scarberry ignored Budwister as the Albuquerque officer got into his car and left in a cloud of dust.
Doc Spurlock interviewed Flossie Rice early on the afternoon of November 19. Captain Mat Torrez served as witness.
    ―Ok, Miz Rice, I know this is mighty tough on you, but we need to know just exactly what happened last night, ah, specifically. We'll just make this painless as we can. So let's get started. Please say your name, age, address, and so forth, and talk in a normal voice right into that microphone there. Ok?‖
    Flossie seemed composed and in control. She nodded at Doc and folded her hands in her lap. Her voice flat and unemotional, she began. ―My name is Aurora Rice, but my nickname is Flossie. I am forty-five years old and I live in Budville, New Mexico.‖
―How‘re you related to Bud Rice and Blanche Brown?‖ ―Bud was my husband. Miss Brown was my good friend for many, many years.‖
    ―Ok. Good. Now. Can you just give us a statement as to what happened here yesterday evenin‘, which would be November 18th, 1967?‖ Spurlock leaned forward and spoke slowly into the microphone as if afraid his voice wouldn't be recorded.
    Flossie took a deep breath and began. ―I was in the bathroom curling my hair. It was about seven-thirty, I guess. Nettie and Miss Brown was in the store watching things and Bud was outside somewhere, I thought, but then I heard him say pretty loud, ‗I don't give a damn.‘ And then, ‗Go ahead.‘ I heard three bangs, close together. Then I heard Miss Brown say, ‗Don't do that! Don't do that!‘ And there was three more bangs, loud ones, like big firecrackers. I ran out of the bathroom and Nettie came arunning into the kitchen and she said, ‗Bud's been shot‘ and she ran past me and hid in the bathroom.
    ―When I stepped into the store, this man poked that gun in my stomach and he said, ‗Don't get excited.‘ Then he said, ‗Turn out the lights‘ and I told him the switches was right beside the door and I pointed to them. He told me to turn them out and he pushed me ahead of him around the counter and past Miss Brown and Bud. I wanted to stop by where Bud was but he poked me with that gun and made me go to the light switches and turn them off and I did but the lights on the gas pumps was still on. That's a different switch. I tried to see if there was a car outside and there was this light colored sedan pulled up to the far side of the gas pumps, headed toward the west. I thought it was a Chevy. I couldn't see the license plate because of the pump being in the way. He shoved me and poked me with that gun, back to the kitchen.
    ―I asked him what he wanted and he said, ‗I want your money.‘ I told him ‗ok‘ and I went behind the counter and pulled