“That would be right.”
“So if she never comes out of it, what happens?”
“The department pursues other avenues of investigation that remain open.”
“I understand that Estelle Guzman is visiting.”
“That’s also correct.”
“Do she and her husband have any plans to return to Posadas?”
I laughed. “You’d have to ask them, Frank.”
“Fair enough. I had a feeling you were going to say that, but it was worth a try. One last thing. Can I break the news that you’ve agreed to work with the New Mexico Livestock Board as an interim inspector? Is that official yet?”
“I’ve been asked, and I haven’t given my answer.” Another vehicle pulled in and deposited two more voters. I nodded a greeting. “But yes, you can say that I’ve agreed to help out on a temporary basis.”
Frank Dayan looked pleased. Apparently his news scoops came in all sizes and shades of importance.
“I heard-maybe it was you that told me, I’ve forgotten-I heard that you promised today would be your last day as sheriff. That you weren’t going to wait until January. Is that true?”
“That’s true. I told the County Commission last spring that was the deal, when I took the job. Assuming both of those voters who just walked into the building push the right buttons, Robert Torrez will be serving as sheriff-elect beginning at midnight.”
Dayan cocked his head and studied me. “And so now what? How are you going to spend your day?”
“I can’t imagine that the average reader would care.” I chuckled. “It would make sense to spend the next seventeen hours being useful. Other than that, I have no plans.”
“Will you do me a favor?” Dayan asked.
“If I can, sure.”
“As soon as you find out something definite about this mess with Connie French, will you let me know?”
“If something crops up in the next seventeen hours, I certainly will. Otherwise, you’ll be talking to Sheriff Torrez.” I found myself grinning like a teenager. “I like the sound of that.” I turned to go, then remembered the newspaper publisher’s trek up the mountainside. “How did your photo of the air rescue come out?”
“Awesome,” he beamed. “It’s going to be a hell of a front page this week. Full color.”
“Outstanding. I look forward to seeing it. Don’t forget to vote, Frank.”
I was three minutes from home, and didn’t waste any time. The Don Juan was closed, but my grandson wasn’t one to shirk his duties. He and Estelle had conjured up their own version of breakfast burritos, and when I walked through the front door I was greeted by the wonderful aroma. Eating wasn’t the first thing on my mind, though.
Earlier, the telephone had rung just as I was getting ready to walk out the front door on my way to vote. My grandson the answering machine had gotten there first, and surprised me when he announced that the call was for Dr. Francis Guzman. “Your aunt in Veracruz, Doctor G,” he said as he handed the physician the receiver.
When I returned home from my electoral duties, “Doctor G” was still on the phone. He’d moved from the busy kitchen to the back patio, where he stood in his shirtsleeves, shuffling the cottonwood leaves with his sandals while he talked.
Estelle reached across the counter and handed me a mug of coffee. “We can eat breakfast in about five minutes,” she said.
“Great. Have you had a chance to talk to Sophia?”
Estelle shook her head. “She was hoping that she would be able to break away and come up for a couple of days, but it doesn’t sound like it.” She glanced out the window. “Very serious negotiations.” She caught her husband’s eye and beckoned, but he grinned and held up a hand. After another minute or two of animated conversation, he opened the back door and peered inside.
“Ah, you’re back,” he said to me. “Sophia would like to speak with you.”
I joined him outside and he handed the phone to me.
“Sophia,” I said. “Nice to hear from you.”
“And how is the padrino? ” Her quiet voice was silky, alto, and strongly accented.
“Better and better,” I replied, remembering that the last time I’d seen Sophia Tournal, she’d been lingering over a cup of coffee in my kitchen, deep in conspiracy with Estelle. “Are you able to pay us a visit sometime soon?”
“Sometime soon, yes. I regret not this week.”
“That’s a shame. We’ve got quite a reunion going here at the moment.”
“Francis told me. You are pleased to see your son after so long, no?”
“Most pleased. And my grandson, as well. He’s been keeping the two boys busy.”
“Hmm,” she said. I wasn’t sure if the little sound was a suppressed laugh, a sigh of nostalgia, or a groan of relief that the two Guzman kids weren’t tearing her house apart. “Your little town,” she said, “it holds the attraction for Francis and Estelle, no?”
“So it would appear,” I replied, trying to sound as neutral as possible.
“I’ve mentioned the opportunities to be found in a large city, and of course, they are aware of those.”
“I’m sure they are,” I said. “After all, Francis did his residency in Houston. And now they’ve had a taste of the north country and city life up there in Minnesota.”
“Yes.” The single word came without inflection. “You know, I don’t recall the land behind your home, William. When I was there four years ago, I don’t believe I ever had occasion to…to explore.”
“It’s just five acres of trees and brush right now, Sophia. Nothing spectacular.”
“One must look far ahead for these things,” Sophia Tournal said. “Francis assures me that there is opportunity there.”
“I suppose there is.”
She laughed at that, a gentle little chuckle that once again was impossible for me to translate. “You don’t sound overly…what’s the word…enthusiastic.”
“Sophia, just the opposite. I’d do anything I could to help them make the right decision. Of course I’d be delighted if they would settle in Posadas again. I happen to think that there’s opportunity here, but it depends what a man wants. The area is growing, like all of the southwestern United States. Like many little communities, Posadas is desperate for quality medical care. Francis can write his own ticket.”
“Anywhere in the world,” Sophia said.
“Anywhere. I’m sure there’s some pull here because of Estelle’s mother. She’s been a good sport about Minnesota, but she’d like to return to New Mexico-or at least close by.”
“A remarkable woman.”
“Yes, she is. But Estelle tells me that her mother hasn’t tried to influence them one way or another. And that’s exactly the way I feel. It’s none of my business, when you get right down to it.”
“You’re the padrino for the children. It is your business. Just as it is my business.”
“I can be their godfather from a distance, if it comes to that.” I laughed. “I’d rather not be, of course.”
“Well,” Sophia Tournal sighed. “I can be an aunt from a distance, too. I have told Francis that I would invest in a new clinic.”
“That’s most generous of you.”
“No, it’s not. I’m sixty-seven years old. I have more money than I could spend in three lifetimes. I would prefer that the clinic be located in Veracruz, of course. But if Posadas is what Francis wants, then so be it. You are close to the border. The clinic will benefit a large area of northern Mexico as well. I have told Francis that he must see to that.”
“I’m sure he will.” I switched the phone to my other ear and realized that my hands were shaking.
“My nephew said that he would call back this evening to tell me what he has decided.”
“That’s fine. And if it turns out that you can break away, we’d love to have you visit.”
“We’ll see what will be,” Sophia Tournal said. “Take care of yourself, Padrino. ”
I switched off the phone and just stood there for a long minute, looking at the little gadget.
“Breakfast,” Estelle said. She held the door for me as I stepped into the kitchen, and then gave me a fierce hug.