Free The Big Gamble by Michael McGarrity Page B

Grace at the kitchen table, ate the meal she’d kept warm for him in the oven, and told her about the Humphrey murder investigation and how it had stalled.
    “I was hoping Ulibarri might have done some talking with one of the dealers or the poker players about his plans. We learned nothing.”
    “You sound frustrated.”
    “I am, but not about that. It was a long shot to begin with.”
    “What’s bothering you?”
    “Today, the sheriff gave me a big pat on the back and told me I was making good progress.”
    “Well, you are,” Grace said. “From what you said you have a strong suspect.”
    Clayton took a bite of green beans and shook his head. “Any reasonably competent officer would have zeroed in on Ulibarri. The way I see it, Hewitt was just flattering me. Sort of a be-nice-to-the-Indian kind of thing. I hate that kind of stuff.”
    Grace cocked her head. “Really?”
    “What does that mean?” Clayton asked, pushing the empty plate to one side.
    She was silent for a long moment. “I sometimes wonder if one of the reasons you married me was because I’m full-blooded Apache.”
    Clayton gave her a startled look. “That’s crazy.”
    “In high school you never dated a mixed-blood, and when we were in college together you never went out with an Anglo or Hispanic girl.”
    “I was seeing you in college,” Clayton answered.
    “Not all the time,” Grace said.
    “We broke up a couple of times and I just didn’t date, that’s all.”
    “Once, we stopped dating for almost a year,” Grace said, “and you never had anything good to say about Anglo boys who were my friends.”
    “That was just jealousy.”
    “Was it?”
    “What are you saying?”
    “Secretly, I think you resent the fact that you have an Anglo father, so you try to be two-hundred-percent Apache.”
    “I’m not like that,” Clayton said.
    “And now that you’ve met your father face-to-face, you’ve gotten worse. You think that anything an Anglo says that strikes you the wrong way has got to be prejudicial or racist.”
    “That’s not true.”
    “Really? Sheriff Hewitt pays you a compliment and you can’t even accept it graciously. What is that all about?”
    Clayton lowered his eyes.
    “I’m not saying all this to hurt your feelings,” Grace said, reaching across the table for Clayton’s hand.
    “I know,” Clayton said with a sigh. “I was short with Kerney on the phone yesterday. He accused me of trying to push his buttons. Said he expected me to treat him with civility in professional matters.”
    “Well?”
    “He’s right, I guess.”
    “What are you going to do about it?”
    Clayton smiled. “Think about stuff.”
    “That’s a start.”
    “But you did say one thing that’s wrong,” he said, squeezing her hand.
    “What’s that?”
    “I married you because you’re smart, beautiful, and I fell in love with you.”
    Grace took his hand, kissed it, and placed it against her cheek. “I know that.”
    Clayton’s pager beeped. He read the message, reached for the phone, dialed, and identified himself. As he listened, his eyes shifted away from Grace and his expression turned sour.
    “I’ll be there in a few,” he said shortly, punching the off button and dropping the phone on the table.
    “Is something wrong?” Grace asked.
    “That was Moses,” Clayton said. “One of his security officers just reported finding Humphrey’s car in the parking lot behind the towers at the resort with an expired guest permit. I have to go.”
    “That should be good news, shouldn’t it?” Grace said, responding to Clayton’s tone.
    “It would be, if I hadn’t been so stupid,” Clayton replied. “I didn’t even think to look for the vehicle when I was at the resort. I just assumed Ulibarri drove away in it when he checked out.”
    He snatched his car keys, gave Grace a quick kiss, and hurried out the door.

Chapter 4
     
     
     
     
    W hile Grace and the children slept Clayton rose early, ate a quick breakfast, and