Cantina Valley (A Ben Adler Mystery Book 1) Page 6

  “I’m Salvadoran,” Carlos said with pride. “I came to Springfield to escape war in the eighties. Me and my mother were sponsored by a Catholic church. My father and two older brothers were killed in the civil war.”

  “I’m sorry,” Lester said. “Is there anyone I can talk with who might know this man?”

  Carlos’s eyes shifted from the deputy to Sonya, before considering an answer. Finally, he said, “This is the man found by the Cantina Creek?”

  “Yes.”

  “I would talk with Father Murphy in Junction City,” Carlos said. “Most of the workers attend mass there. May I go now? I have work to do.”

  Lester nodded.

  The foreman left quickly, which was strange, Lester thought, since the man had obviously come into the office for some reason.

  “Carlos is a good man,” Sonya said. “He’s had a rough life. But he’s a hard worker.”

  “I understand,” Lester said. “I’m just trying to find justice for this man shot in the back of the head and left to rot along Cantina Creek.”

  “I know. I hope you find the bastard who did this. We don’t have murders here.”

  Lester agreed nonverbally. Then he wandered back out to his sheriff’s department rig and sat for a minute, trying to figure out where he should go next. This Carlos had given him the name of a Catholic priest. Perhaps a bit too quickly. Although he wasn’t a detective, he knew a brush-off when he saw one.

  Before driving away, Lester shoved a glob of tobacco under his lip and felt the pleasure of its freshness—like in his youth when he used to chew gum. That first minute would make him salivate, and then the gum would lose its taste and he would spit it out. Murder investigations were also like that, but he was determined not to let the freshness wear off. He had to solve this case. Not just for him and his relationship with the sheriff. He now felt the importance detectives experienced, and how they had that drive to seek justice for the victims. Lester was under no illusions as to why he had gotten the case, though. This victim was a nobody. And who spoke for these people? Deputy Lester Dawson, he thought. He had to give a shit or nobody else would.

  9

  Maggi sat in the passenger seat of the old Ford pickup, watching the front of a remote gas station along a country road about halfway between Corvallis and Eugene. Her brother had purchased gas at this station about a week ago, so Ben had gone in to see if anyone remembered the transaction.

  While she waited, she checked her phone for emails. She had a bunch from work, which she ignored. Although she was expected to answer questions even on the weekends, she could tell these were not that important. She was part of the negotiating team for a new union contract with the nurses for one of their Portland hospitals. Pay was not really an issue, since Portland nurses were some of the highest compensated in the country. Now it was down to stupid stuff. At least in her mind. With so many people unemployed or underemployed in the country, Maggi thought the nurses were being unreasonable with their demands. Like divas asking for certain candy in dressing rooms.

  Somehow, she hoped that her brother, Tavis, had left her a text or email. But he had not.

  She glanced up and could now see Ben inside the little store section of the gas station. He was using the disposable cell phone. Interesting.

  Maggi had to admit to herself that she was intrigued by this former military member. She had always had a thing for strong men. Then why, she had to ask herself, had she married such a wimpy man in her twenties? Maybe she was trying to avoid the trap of marrying her father. Her father was a man’s man, but he did have a soft spot and a heart of gold. Especially for his little girl.

  Ben Adler was different, though. The man had an aura about him that left far too much to imagination. He was a puzzle with too many missing pieces. His old boss, Colonel Keyes, had warned her about Ben. He had said that she would never know exactly what the man was thinking. As far as the colonel knew, Ben never really opened up to anyone in the Air Force. Part of that, he had said, was a result of Ben’s position in OSI. None of them could really have friends outside of their own organization.

  She saw Ben flip the phone shut and wave to the attendant behind the counter before walking out through the door into the light rain toward his truck.

  Maggi stopped checking her email as Ben got in behind the wheel.

  “Everything all right?” he asked her.

  “Yes. Just checking my mail. Hoping to hear from Tavis.” She hated to lie to Ben, considering that he was mostly doing this out of kindness. It was true that she could get the IRS to back off, since they had no legitimate case against him. But her work on that would take just a few hours. The last thing the IRS wanted was a citizen with a pissed off lawyer. “Did the attendant remember my brother?”

  “He did. He’s former Navy and they talked for a couple of minutes. Tavis was alone and didn’t mention where he might be going.”

  “Did you call your girlfriend?” she asked.

  He narrowed his eyes at her, as if he intended to rip her head off. Then he started his truck and said, “I found your brother’s vehicle.”

  “Seriously? How?”

  “Don’t ask.” He gave her an address and had her look it up on her phone. “This burner doesn’t do that.”

  She typed it into her map app and it immediately ran a jagged line from their current location to the address. “Got it.”

  “Let’s see.”

  Maggi handed the phone to him and he furled his brows.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “I know where that is,” Ben said. “We need to move fast.” He handed her phone back and put the truck in gear. Then he pulled out onto the main paved road and headed south.

  “There’s something you’re not telling me,” Maggi said.

  “You’re right.” Ben shifted into third. “I’m think you need to go back to Portland and let me handle this.”

  “I won’t be dismissed,” she said.

  He found fourth gear and settled the truck into a steady cruise on the wet pavement.

  What was he hiding? She needed to make Ben open up to her. But how? Honesty. “I heard that you didn’t like to share or play with others.”

  “Colonel Keyes tell you that?”

  “He said you were the best investigator he had, but you drove him crazy with your intransigent personality.”

  “Then he should have fired my ass,” Ben said. “He could have had me transferred at any time.”

  “He likes you, Ben. He respects you. Can’t you take yes for an answer? Let me in. If my brother is in trouble, I have a right to know.”

  Ben stared off at the road ahead, obviously in deep thought. Finally, he said, “The location of your brother’s truck could be a problem. I don’t know for sure.”

  She looked at the map location and switched from the map mode to the satellite view. “It looks like a number of buildings.”

  “Right. Over the years that place has changed hands many times. It was originally built in the 50s as a fundamental Christian school. Those outbuildings were houses and other structures. In the late 60s and early 70s, it was sold to a self-proclaimed guru, who turned it into an ashram. But it had about as much to do with Hinduism as a local Indian restaurant. Less actually. The guru infused aspects of Taoism and Buddhism into his teachings. But really he had built a cult, stealing all the possessions of pot-smoking college kids looking for some sort of salvation from their pedestrian lives.”

  Maggi was wondering why she had not heard of this group growing up, but it was quite a distance from her home in Central Oregon. Of course, she hadn’t even been born at that time. So that made even more sense. “What happened to the guru?” she asked.

  “Our government picked him up and sent him to prison. I hear he died there in the mid-eighties.”

  “What happened to the place after that?”

  “Hang on.” Ben put his blinker on and turned right onto a smaller road. Once he got the truck back up to speed heading
right toward the foothills of the Coast Range and the Cantina Valley, he continued, “The late seventies through the eighties the place turned over a couple more times. First another religious group, and then a commune with a collective farm. They made some damn good honey and jam.”

  “Then what happened there?”

  “Well, the commune was not all love and peace. There was too much wife swapping. Jealousy. In the early nineties, the leader was killed by a jealous follower who had bedded his wife too much. He probably would have been alright with that, but the wife wouldn’t do it with him anymore. So he also shot his wife before turning the gun on himself.”

  “I heard about that,” she said. “I was really young, though.”

  “After that the place sat empty for years,” Ben said. “I was in the service then.”

  “And now?”

  “I’ve heard rumors. But I have no real knowledge.”

  She checked her phone to see if she could check on the tax records, but by now they no longer had cell service. “Let’s hear the rumors,” she said.

  “In a community like this, where we’ve seen so many strange things come and go out there, you have to understand our apprehension.”

  “I understand. Is it that bad?”

  “Rumor has it that the Compound is now being used by a militia. But I don’t think that’s true. Others have said the place is another cult haven. Truthfully, I don’t think anyone has a clue. I do know that many local businesses have sold them items that could raise flags.”

  “Such as?”

  “I really hate to bring it up, since someone could lump me into the same category. And I hate to label people.”

  Maggi said nothing. She simply waited for him to speak.

  “Doomsday preppers,” he finally said.

  She actually used to watch a show on cable that dealt with these people. Some of them were way off the deep end, but after watching hurricanes and other natural disasters over the past few years, she guessed a little preparation never hurt.

  They drove the rest of the way in silence, winding through wine country back into Cantina Valley.

  10

  Ben found the unmarked road that led up into the rolling Coast Range foothills and slowed his pace toward the Compound. In his youth he had been warned by his parents and others about going up there, because of the secrecy of the place and those who were drawn there like a magnet. Many who had resided there over the years had drifted up the coast from California.

  Signs now lined both sides of the narrow road saying that this was a private road and trespassers would be prosecuted.

  Pulling to the side of the road, Ben turned to Maggi and said, “What do you think?”

  “About?”

  “The no trespassing signs.”

  “It’s only a misdemeanor if they want to press charges. Unless we do something to escalate the charges to a felony.”

  “I understand that,” he said. “But do you want to continue?”

  “Why wouldn’t I?”

  Ben shrugged and then pulled forward. “The compound sits about a half mile ahead.” He guessed there would be a big problem if the preppers had a gate and guards manning it. But that wasn’t the case.

  Cruising into the complex, Ben found a parking spot near the main building. He had been out to this Compound years ago, when it was abandoned. He had also dated a girl for a while in high school who lived in one of the housing buildings. Her parents had been part of the commune. Her mother was a bee keeper and her father was like an old-time blacksmith. Ben had lost track of the girl after graduating from high school and joining the Air Force. One time as an investigator with OSI he had tried to look her up to see how she had turned out. But the girl had dropped off the face of the Earth.

  “That’s his truck,” Maggi said, excitedly pointing across the Compound to a silver Ford F-150 with a matching cap.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. I helped him buy it after he left the Army. He has Veteran plates with the Purple Heart.”

  Suddenly a man came out of the main building, the one that had been used as classrooms and a dining hall in the past. The guy was wearing jeans and boots. On top he wore a rainproof olive drab jacket—former military issue. As were his boots. And, like Ben, the man had a handgun strapped to his right hip.

  “Let me handle this,” Ben said.

  “No. I need to see my brother.”

  “This guy is former military. I speak his language.”

  “How do you know this?”

  “Trust me. If you’ve been in the military, you can identify your comrades in arms. Please, just wait here.”

  Reluctantly, Maggi nodded her approval.

  Ben got out and walked up to the man. The guy looked to be in his mid to late forties, but was still in good enough shape to run a six-minute mile. He was built like a middle linebacker. With his blond hair and beard, he would have made a great Viking.

  “How’s it going?” Ben asked.

  “Did you read the signs down the hill?”

  Turning toward his truck, Ben said, “Yes, I did. But my friend insisted we continue.”

  “That’s a nice old truck. I’ve seen it around.”

  “I live just down the road. Ben Adler.” He extended his hand out. Just like a salute, the man felt obligated to shake Ben’s hand. They both squeezed down with considerable force before reluctantly letting go.

  “So you took over the old Adler place.”

  “I grew up there. My parents both died from cancer recently. Once I retired from the Air Force, I moved back home.” There. He had managed to infuse sympathy and his former military status.

  “You don’t remember me?” the man asked.

  Ben considered him more carefully. “I’m sorry. As I said, I’ve been away for some twenty years.”

  “You dated my younger sister in high school.”

  Thinking back, he now remembered the brother. He had been at least four years ahead of Ben in school. Ben pointed at the man and said, “You joined the Army after high school. I met you a couple of times when you came home on leave.”

  “That’s right. Kevin. Kevin Engel.”

  “Okay. I see it now. Whatever happened to your sister, Robin?”

  “She lives on a ranch out in Eastern Oregon near Baker. Second husband. Three kids.”

  “That’s great. Say hello for me next time you talk.”

  “We don’t talk much,” Kevin said. “Her first husband used to beat her. I came home on leave and nearly killed the guy. Of course, she still loved him and blamed me for him leaving her.”

  “That’s rough. But I would have done the same thing.”

  Kevin tightened his jaw. He was obviously still in pain from the incident and the virtual loss of his sister. “Why are you here?”

  “A friend of a friend,” Ben said. “I’m looking for McGuffin. Tavis McGuffin.”

  The man couldn’t help from drifting his eyes toward the man’s Ford pickup. “McGuffin?”

  “Yeah. That’s his F-150 over there.”

  “How did you find us?” the former soldier asked.

  Now Ben was stuck. He couldn’t tell the truth. But he had also anticipated the question. “Being a local, you hear things. You ask a few questions and finally get the answer you need. Someone reluctantly mentions seeing this Ford pickup driving down your long driveway, and it’s easy to come take a look. Coming from this area, I’m sure you understand.”

  Based on the look on Kevin’s face, he didn’t understand. But it would also be impossible for the man to deny that the truck was Tavis McGuffin’s.

  “What do you want with Guff?” Kevin finally asked.

  Ben turned back to his truck and then toward the former soldier again. “His sister is looking for him. They’re pretty close, I guess. And she hasn’t heard from Tavis in about a month.”

  Kevin stared at Maggi in Ben’s truck and finally said, “Guff is a big boy. Maybe he doesn’t want to talk with her.”
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  “Like you and your sister?” Ben asked.

  “Exactly.” Then the soldier seemed to consider something new. “As you can see, we’re pretty much off the grid here. I’ve heard your place is the same way.”

  That was what Ben was hoping for. The kindred spirit impact. “You got that shit right. I’m pretty self-sufficient.”

  Kevin gave a half smile. By now the rain was starting to fall down on them, sifting through the heavy Douglas firs over their heads. “I’d let you talk with Guff, but he’s not here right now.”

  Ben glanced back at Maggi. She would want a more definitive answer to her brother’s whereabouts. “She just wants to make sure Tavis is all right. That’s it.”

  “Like I said, he’s not here right now. He went mushroom picking.”

  “Do you know when he might return?”

  The former soldier shrugged. “Could be a while. I think they’re up in the Siuslaw.”

  “Matsutake?”

  “I don’t know. I’m not a mushroom guy.”

  Ben nodded. “All right. Could you do a favor for me, then?”

  “Depends.”

  Ben pushed forward. “Could you simply have Tavis give his sister a call.”

  “Service is not available out here.”

  “I understand. I don’t even own a cell phone myself. Or a land line. Or the internet. But I don’t have a sister looking for me. You know how they can be.”

  “I’ve heard.” Kevin hesitated, his hands firmly on his hips. “The only reason I’m talking with you is because I know you and you served in the military.”

  “I hear you. I’d appreciate your help.”

  “My hospitality only goes so far. Next time you need to comply with our signs.”

  “Will do. I have a gate at my place.”

  “We’re working on getting one.”

  Ben was about to turn and go, when he thought of one more thing. Especially since he had been warned about not coming back. “I’m familiar with the history of this place. Where exactly do you fit in to the past?”

  “We don’t. We fit in to the future. Time for you to leave, Ben.” This was not a suggestion.

  “Roger that.” Ben walked back to his truck and got behind the wheel.