Blood on the Verde River by Dusty Richards

streets in the hot afternoon. The front door of the Epitaph newspaper office was open when he came under the cottonwood tree. He stepped inside and nodded to a man in an apron stained in ink.
    â€œThe boss is out today. Went to see about a guy who was shot by his wife.”
    â€œOh.”
    â€œYeah, they’re back together.”
    â€œThat might make a good new story.”
    â€œNot for me. My wife shot me, I’d be gone. She wouldn’t get a second chance to do that again.”
    Chet waved to him and laughed. “Not a bad idea.”
    He later stepped off into the barrio neighborhood where there were no boardwalks, and goats on ropes greeted him outside the jacals beside the ungraded street. Near-naked brown children drew back at his appearance and a woman standing in a doorway beckoned to him. She looked to be in her twenties and wore a short wash-worn dress.
    â€œYou are looking for company?” she asked.
    â€œNo, I was just walking around to see how the town was laid out.”
    â€œI can show you the barrio.”
    â€œWhat does your guidance cost?”
    â€œHuh?”
    â€œ Dinero. How much?”
    â€œOh, you can pay me for what I am worth to you.”
    â€œI can afford that. Show me.”
    She put on some sandals on the go as she hurried to join him in the dirt street.
    The girl pointed across the street. “Over there lives Señora Gomez. She is an old lady. Maybe a hundred. She is so old that she remembers when there were no gringos here.”
    She walked beside him, naming various residents. “That is a cantina. We have three of them. That one is for old men.”
    Chet saw some burros in a pen. “That a freight company?”
    â€œYes. He hauls supplies to some isolated villages in Sonora.”
    â€œThat’s the church?” he asked about the small chapel nearby.
    â€œOh, yes. Our Mother of Jesus is there.”
    Abruptly changing the subject, Chet asked, “Who would kidnap a girl and take her to Mexico City?”
    â€œCarlos Ramaras.”
    â€œWhere is he?”
    â€œProbably at his ranch down in Sonora,” the girl replied.
    â€œDoes he do that often?”
    She looked stone faced and nodded. “He does it all the time.”
    â€œDo you know of any girls he sent down there lately?”
    She shook her head. “But two of my best friends, he kidnapped and sold them to a brothel in the capitol. One escaped. Maria came back and told me she would kill herself if he caught her again. After that day I never saw her again.”
    Chet stopped walking. “I have seen enough. You’re a fine guide.”
    They turned and walked back up the street. A thirty-pound, long-haired, black shoat cut across the street in front of them, grunting as he hurried.
    When they reached her house, the girl turned to Chet. “Come back again, señor.”
    He paid her two quarters and she beamed. “You are very generous.”
    â€œNo, you are very gracious.”
    She about blushed. “I am just a simple puta.”
    â€œI know that. I am looking for another girl. Her name was Bonnie Allen.”
    The puta shook her head very quickly at him. “I don’t know her.”
    â€œI am at the Hampton ranch. You can reach me there if you hear of her.”
    â€œI will. I will. I hope you find her.”
    Chet left the barrio and wandered back through the town, eventually making his way to the saddle shop.
    His men came in late afternoon and met him there.
    JD laughed. “Today, I talked to Ivory.”
    â€œWell, what’s she like?” Chet asked, sharing a grin with Jesus.
    â€œWhew. She is—”
    Chet waved off JD’s explanation about her charms. “What did she know about Bonnie Allen?”
    â€œShe’s scared to death. But she told me Bonnie was going to meet a man the night she vanished. And they would kill her if they knew she said anything.”
    â€œWould she give you his