Dance of the Bones

“Mr. Lassiter is fine, as far as I can tell, but getting back to Amos . . .”


“Oh, yes, that’s what Johnny thought and it’s what I thought, too—-that Amos finally had it up to here with Johnny and just took off. Johnny mentioned there had been some kind of quarrel between them just before Amos went away.”

“Do you have any idea what the quarrel was about?”

Ava shook her head. “It was probably about their joint business venture. They collected stuff together, things they found out in the desert and sold to -people who deal in those kinds of things—-gems and minerals, Indian artifacts, what have you.”

“My guess is they even found some turquoise from time to time,” Brandon suggested.

Ava looked down self--consciously at the silver and turquoise bracelets dangling on her wrists and at the turquoise--studded belt buckle that would have put more than a few professional rodeo riders’ buckles to shame. “That, too,” she said. “They always seemed to have plenty of turquoise.”

“This so--called stuff,” Brandon continued, attempting to put the conversation back on track. “Do you have any idea where they kept it?”

“In a private storage unit inside a warehouse off Aviation Highway. At first Johnny didn’t bother checking on the storage unit because he assumed Amos was off in the desert on what they used to call ‘scavenging expeditions.’ Then, a few days later, Johnny went to the post office to pick up the mail.”

“Post office?”

Ava nodded. “Amos kept a post office box to use for business correspondence. He had a key to the box, and so did Johnny. Johnny picked up the mail and there was a letter from a towing company. It turns out Amos had abandoned his truck in the parking lot of a hotel near the airport, and the hotel had it towed. As soon as Johnny knew about the airport connection, he figured Amos had done a runner. That’s when Johnny and a friend went to the warehouse. It was empty, totally cleaned out.”

“A friend went with him?” Brandon asked. “What friend?”

“His name was Kenneth,” Ava answered. “Ken Mangum. He and Johnny hung out together. They played a lot of pool.”

“Any idea where Kenneth is now?”

She shrugged. “We lost touch a long time ago. Kenneth and Johnny were sort of roughneck guys. I stopped messing around with them when I decided to straighten up and fly right.”

“Let’s go back to the storage unit for a moment. Did you ever go there?”

“A -couple of times—-before it was empty, not after.”

“You said it was locked. Do you remember what kind of lock?”

“A padlock.”

“One that took a key or was it a combination lock?”

Ava had to think for a moment, frowning before she answered. “I’m pretty sure there was a key.”

Brandon made a note of that. He knew for sure that no keys of any kind—-car, post office, or padlock—-had been found in the vicinity of Amos’s bones. But then, they hadn’t found a vehicle there, either. Chances were that the padlock key had ended up in the same place as the missing car keys.

Brandon examined his notes for a moment.

“Okay, I know Amos and John duked it out. I’ve talked to a number of -people—-especially folks who were in the bar the night Amos and Johnny had their fight. Several of them seem to be of the opinion that John Lassiter is the guy responsible for Amos’s death. What do you think about that?”

Ava shrugged. “I don’t know, but after Amos disappeared, Johnny was a wreck and totally out of control. Scary, even.”

“What do you mean scary?”

She hesitated a moment before she answered. “He threatened me once,” she said quietly. “That’s why I broke up with him.”

“Threatened you how?”

“With a gun.”

“He had a gun?”

“Lots of -people have guns,” Ava countered. “I have a gun. It’s no big deal.”

“What kind of gun?”