SWEET REVENGE

By Betty L. Alt

Arriving home from an unsuccessful trip to try and locate the killer of four local women, Deputy Chief Levi Taylor learns of the murder of Paramont's former state senator, Judge Jason Craig Montgomery. Thinking it may be a 'grudge' killing, Taylor and detective Richard Samms begin to question paroled prison inmates formerly sentenced by the judge, along with males relatives of the parolees. Their investigation reaches a standstill until Samms mentions that the two men could be questioning the wrong people . . .

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Nov 23, 2023
• ISBN: 9798369412039

Betty L. Alt

Betty Alt is the author or co-author of numerous books, both fiction and nonfiction. She has an M.A. from Northeast Missouri State University and has taught at several colleges and universities in the U.S. and overseas. Alt is now retired and living in Tennessee.

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Copyright © 2023 by Betty L. Alt.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Rev. date: 11/22/2023

Xlibris

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Books by Betty L. Alt

(with Sandra K. Wells)

Running in the Shadows

Police Women: Life with the Badge

Fleecing Grandma & Grandpa

The Proteus Agenda (with David Conway)

Keeper of the Keys (with Wayne K. Patterson)

Slaughter in Cell House Three (with Patterson

Black Soldiers/White Wars (with William E. Alt)

Weeping Violins: The Gypsy Tragedy in Europe (with Silvia Folts)

Campfollowing: A History of the Military Wife (with Bonnie D. Stone)

Uncle Sam’s Brides (with Stone)

And now I’ll do ’t; and so he goes to heaven,

And so I am reveng’d.

-Shakespeare

Early on an August Monday morning, Deputy Police Chief Levi Taylor drove south out of Paramont, Colorado. His nearly three-year-old dark grey Chevrolet Bel Air purred softly and after a little over two hours reached Raton, New Mexico. From that small town, he soon veered off of highway 85-87 and began a leisurely speed on a narrow two-lane route southwest across New Mexico. The sun had broken through gray clouds, highlighting the purple blossoms on the clusters of alfalfa scattered in ditches along the highway.

Taylor had left home and his mother before seven o’clock and had gone to the Paramont Police Department to place a brief note on the desk of Chief Armin Ames, indicating that he would keep in touch at least weekly. Now, as he neared Santa Fe, he knew he was ready for a late lunch and soon grabbed a bite at a small café on the north side of town, Tres Senoritas.

Then, he drove to the office of Santa Fe Sheriff Asa Martinez, hoping Martinez might have an update on a man both had been seeking. Their unsolved cases, four for Taylor and two for Martinez, involved a number of young females who had been killed ln the southwestern part of the country, the bodies always discarded in water.

Both Taylor and Martinez thought the individual responsible was a young man named Ralph Richmond, originally a resident of Riverside, Colorado. Ralph had disappeared from that town, and supposedly the only communication since had been a few short notes to his parents, the Reverend and Mrs. Michael Richmond. While the couple appeared stunned to hear that their son might be under suspicion for murder, Taylor thought the two were withholding important information regarding their son’s present location. However, he only had circumstantial evidence that Ralph Richmond was involved with the dead women and didn’t feel that he could press the point.

Where you staying? Asa Martinez asked as Taylor sat in the sheriff’s cramped office. Although it had two tall, narrow windows, both of them faced north away from the sun and did little to lighten the room’s adobe walls. And for how long?

St Francis Inn, Taylor replied. Just the one night."

Well, Paramont must have some really big budget if they can afford to put their employees in that place. Don’t think my department could afford that. Know it couldn’t!

I’m paying the bill, Taylor replied. Inherited some money . . . well, a great deal of money from an old friend . . . a Doctor Mason I knew when I was living and working in Wallton. We’d been friends ever since he helped me on a couple cases many years ago. I’m not costing the Paramont Police Department a single penny.

So, this is not an official visit? Martinez peered at Taylor.

Not really. I’m sort of on my own for a spell.

Taylor didn’t wish to tell Martinez that his boss had not wanted him to take leave, had felt the trip would be a waste of time. I had some leave coming to me, actually quite a lot of leave, Taylor continued, so I decided to do a bit of traveling. Just stopped here to see if you have learned anything new about our missing guy and your two dead women left in water.

Nothing. Nothing at all. Martinez shook his head. Have pretty much had to label those two incidents as unsolved. Course we still will be looking in case something should develop, but I don’t think anything new will show up. If something does, where can I contact you.

I plan to be on the road . . . maybe as long as a month. See if I can get us more information about those two similar cases in Arizona. I’ll keep in touch with you from time to time. Let you know where I’m staying. Course you could send to Paramont anything that you get, but then it would have to be sent on to me. Lot of time wasted.

Okay, Martinez replied, but you’ll need to keep in touch frequently in case something new reaches me. Wouldn’t want you to miss something that might be important.

You’ll know where I am, Taylor smiled and stood up to leave. It would definitely be a help if we could come up with just the reason behind these unusual murders. Might let us catch the guy and would certainly be a really big feather in our caps.

********************

Driving toward Albuquerque the next morning after an unusually large breakfast, Taylor was aware of the sudden increase in traffic as he neared the city. He decided that checking in with the local police would be of little benefit to him as Martinez kept in close contact with them. So far, they had nothing beneficial to report.

Since he was not hungry enough to want lunch, Taylor continued on south where he picked up a highway heading diagonally into Arizona. There was almost no traffic on the narrow two-lane road, and he made good time. With his window down, he caught an occasional pleasant odor from the numerous pine trees and noted what appeared to be an endless supply of thistle and bright yellow Black-eyed Susan.

It was after nine-thirty and already dark when Taylor reached the outskirts of Phoenix and decided to get lodging in the Sky Top motel. Since he had not eaten lunch, he was very hungry and ordered the Mexican plate at a diner across the street from the motel parking lot. He could tell that the place was about to close as he was its only customer.

Back in his room, Taylor caught some local news on the tiny radio before falling asleep at a little after eleven o’clock. He did not ask for a wake-up call as he was always an early riser and knew he would be showered, breakfasted, and ready to find Chandler policeman Ray Fellows by around ten the next morning.

Although he didn’t expect to learn anything new on the two Phoenix area cases of female bodies discarded in various water sources, he simply wished to meet with the cop face-to-face and wound his way south to Chandler and a private golf club. So far, all of his information from Arizona had been sent on to him from Martinez in Santa Fe.

Nothing new to tell you, Sgt. Ray Fellows said as he spread his arms wide. He was young, not more than twenty-four Hunter guessed, wearing brown trousers and a short-sleeve tan shirt with the black logo Chandler PD on one pocket. I took the call from this here golf club and came out to the site. The club manager explained that a lady walking her dog had seen a body and was really shook up. Fellows grinned. Apparently, not too coherent, was the way the manager put it.

What I found was a female . . . a fairly young woman in the water face down . . . dead obviously. As I put in my report, it looked like she had been in that ditch . . . a run-off ditch . . . for at least a couple of days. Coroner said it wasn’t a recent kill, definitely not just a few hours before she was discovered. Usually there’s a fairly good number of people golfing at that place. Made me wonder why no one else had seen the body earlier.

I read the follow-up report from you indicating that her name was Angela Sisneros.

Yeah, that’s right. Fellows nodded at Taylor. Was almost two weeks before we found that out. Guess she didn’t have anyone close who really missed her. Turned out she wasn’t married or at least no husband ever showed up. No other guy either. Eventually got her name when a sister . . . Fellows took a small notebook from a pocket and flipped through several pages. Let’s see . . . a Mrs. Marcelina Rodriguez reported that she hadn’t seen or heard from Angela and couldn’t reach her by telephone.

As far as you could tell, there was no connection between your corpse and the one found in downtown Phoenix?

Nothing, and we definitely checked. Definitely! Fellows repeated. Not often that we have two dead women in such a short period of time in the Phoenix area. Coroner’s report said ours and the one downtown had been killed no more than a couple days apart . . . maybe only a day.

Taylor sat thinking about Fellows’ information when the sergeant abruptly stated, Heard you been having the same problem up in Colorado.

Yes, that I do, Taylor replied, and so does Sheriff Martinez in Taos, New Mexico. Dead young women discovered in various kinds of water . . . rivers, lakes, ponds . . . but nothing else.

Well, I’m sure our department will let you two know of anything similar if that should come up in the future. Fellows returned the notebook to his pocket and waited. Finally, Taylor could think of no more questions and thanked the man for his information, little as it was.

Hope it helps, Sgt. Fellows stated as the two walked leisurely toward his car. Opening its door, he shook Taylor’s hand and added, You be sure and let us know if you get anything new. I’m sure we’ll do the same.

Waste of Fellows’ time and mine, Taylor thought as he watched the man drive away. Guess I could try and meet up with the Phoenix detective. See what he knows about their dead body, but bet it’s next to nothing. Think I’ll just give him a phone call . . . save both of us some trouble. Doubt if he has anything new or different to add to these cases.

Taylor took his time driving back through Chandler, stopping just before two o’clock for lunch. As he sat over a plate of three tacos and refried beans, a couple of questions about the killings kept running through his mind. Why those particular women? But most of all, why the connection with water?

As he didn’t wish to get back on the road that late in the afternoon or return early to his motel room, Taylor asked his waitress if there were any place close by where he could see some Indian or southwest art. She pointed him in the direction of the Chandler Museum, and he