justice.” I shrugged because let’s face it, this sounded pretty hokey. “I need to find out the truth not only so that the wrong person won’t be punished, but so that the right person will be.”
“And you think I can help.”
“Well, I didn’t know you’d be here,” I told Karmen. “I didn’t even know who you were, not when you showed up at the fairgrounds yesterday. I just thought I’d start here because this is the only place I ever went with Roberto. I thought someone here would know him.”
Karmen glanced around, obviously reliving memories. “We came here a couple times a week.”
“So you probably know that big guy Roberto had the fight with the other night. Did he come here all the time, too?”
Thinking, she closed her eyes. I guess that didn’t work, because Karmen waved over the bartender. “Hey, Joey P! What’s that guy’s name? You know, the dude Roberto got into it with the other night?”
Joey P came around to the front of the bar. “Guy bigger than me, right? Beard? And he always wears that leather cap. That’s . . .” Trying to come up with the name, he snapped his fingers. “. . . what’s his name . . . Alonzo or Alphonzo . . . Alphonse! That’s the guy. Alphonse Rettinger. You wouldn’t know it by looking at him, but he’s some kind of hoity-toity artist. Some kind of sculptor or something. Has a big following in these parts, and the temper of a coyote.”
I made a mental note of the name.
“Did this Alphonse and Roberto have history?” I asked, and cringed at the use of the very word I’d objected to such a short time before.
Joey P shrugged. “I’d seen them talking to each other once in a while, but it never got ugly like it did the other night. Why? You think Alphonse might have had something to do with Roberto’s murder? Nah!” He waved a hand. “They already got the chick in jail who killed him. Case is all wrapped up.”
Watching Joey P go back behind the bar, a chill snaked over my shoulders. Is that what the cops thought, too? That the case was solved? That they didn’t need to look any further because they had their murderer, Sylvia?
I forced the thought out of my head and turned back to Karmen. “What can you tell me about him?” I asked.
“About Roberto?” She sniffled, then smiled. “You mean besides how freakin’ sexy he was?”
I bit my lip. “Yeah, besides that. Where did he live?”
She waved in some vague direction. “He was staying at one of those apartments. Over on Route 64. You know, the sort of place you pay for by the week.”
“Does that mean he was new in town?”
Karmen nodded. “I met him three weeks ago. He said he just got here.”
“From . . .”
She shrugged. “Somewhere. Roberto, he never said. I never asked. It didn’t matter, you know?”
It didn’t. At least until now. Now, I knew two interesting things about Roberto: He was living under a false name, and he was new in town. After years of traveling the chili circuit with Jack, I could smell the difference between wild tepin, pequin, and aji amarillo chili peppers blindfolded, but my talents for sniffing things out didn’t stop there.
I knew when I smelled something fishy.
I tried not to show how eager I was to find out even more when I asked, “What else did Roberto have to say about himself?”
Karmen grinned. “We didn’t do a whole lot of talking. You know what I mean?”
I did. I just didn’t want to think about it. “But when you did talk?”
“He was a smart guy. I could tell. Like, he used a lot of big words, you know.”
It was a side of Roberto I never saw. Then again, I hadn’t spent as much time with him as Karmen had, and I wasn’t as easily impressed.
“And he said he used to be some big shot somewhere.” She nodded. “You know, that he used to have some fancy job.”
“Do you think that was true?” This was, obviously, a more diplomatic question than the one I was tempted to ask, which was something to the tune
“And you think I can help.”
“Well, I didn’t know you’d be here,” I told Karmen. “I didn’t even know who you were, not when you showed up at the fairgrounds yesterday. I just thought I’d start here because this is the only place I ever went with Roberto. I thought someone here would know him.”
Karmen glanced around, obviously reliving memories. “We came here a couple times a week.”
“So you probably know that big guy Roberto had the fight with the other night. Did he come here all the time, too?”
Thinking, she closed her eyes. I guess that didn’t work, because Karmen waved over the bartender. “Hey, Joey P! What’s that guy’s name? You know, the dude Roberto got into it with the other night?”
Joey P came around to the front of the bar. “Guy bigger than me, right? Beard? And he always wears that leather cap. That’s . . .” Trying to come up with the name, he snapped his fingers. “. . . what’s his name . . . Alonzo or Alphonzo . . . Alphonse! That’s the guy. Alphonse Rettinger. You wouldn’t know it by looking at him, but he’s some kind of hoity-toity artist. Some kind of sculptor or something. Has a big following in these parts, and the temper of a coyote.”
I made a mental note of the name.
“Did this Alphonse and Roberto have history?” I asked, and cringed at the use of the very word I’d objected to such a short time before.
Joey P shrugged. “I’d seen them talking to each other once in a while, but it never got ugly like it did the other night. Why? You think Alphonse might have had something to do with Roberto’s murder? Nah!” He waved a hand. “They already got the chick in jail who killed him. Case is all wrapped up.”
Watching Joey P go back behind the bar, a chill snaked over my shoulders. Is that what the cops thought, too? That the case was solved? That they didn’t need to look any further because they had their murderer, Sylvia?
I forced the thought out of my head and turned back to Karmen. “What can you tell me about him?” I asked.
“About Roberto?” She sniffled, then smiled. “You mean besides how freakin’ sexy he was?”
I bit my lip. “Yeah, besides that. Where did he live?”
She waved in some vague direction. “He was staying at one of those apartments. Over on Route 64. You know, the sort of place you pay for by the week.”
“Does that mean he was new in town?”
Karmen nodded. “I met him three weeks ago. He said he just got here.”
“From . . .”
She shrugged. “Somewhere. Roberto, he never said. I never asked. It didn’t matter, you know?”
It didn’t. At least until now. Now, I knew two interesting things about Roberto: He was living under a false name, and he was new in town. After years of traveling the chili circuit with Jack, I could smell the difference between wild tepin, pequin, and aji amarillo chili peppers blindfolded, but my talents for sniffing things out didn’t stop there.
I knew when I smelled something fishy.
I tried not to show how eager I was to find out even more when I asked, “What else did Roberto have to say about himself?”
Karmen grinned. “We didn’t do a whole lot of talking. You know what I mean?”
I did. I just didn’t want to think about it. “But when you did talk?”
“He was a smart guy. I could tell. Like, he used a lot of big words, you know.”
It was a side of Roberto I never saw. Then again, I hadn’t spent as much time with him as Karmen had, and I wasn’t as easily impressed.
“And he said he used to be some big shot somewhere.” She nodded. “You know, that he used to have some fancy job.”
“Do you think that was true?” This was, obviously, a more diplomatic question than the one I was tempted to ask, which was something to the tune
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