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Subject: {ASSM} MB56 Tina Vasquez - Texas Ranger (6) by Rachael Ross (F/F, Police,  Rom, Drama)
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Note: Mixed Bag is a compilation of stories by Rachael Ross and
contains a Foreword and 65 chapters. It is being posted to ASSM
largely in sequence. See MB00 for a table of contents. All stories
copyrighted 2008 Rachael Ross all rights reserved. rache696@yahoo.com
visit my website at http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/rache/www/index.htm and see my
blog http://anarchyforbeginners.blogspot.com/ for additional
information. Thanks. -rr


Adults Only

Mixed Bag - Chapter Fifty Six



Tina Vasquez - Texas Ranger (Part 6)

by rache


=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Story Codes: F/F, Police, Romance, Drama

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=




    The McKinnen Funeral Home was a longish building resembling a
church as much as anything else. It was constructed of wood and brick,
all painted white. The surrounding grounds were green and well-tended
with grass and neatly trimmed hedges and it seemed out of place, like
an oasis planted in the desert scrub of western Texas. There were
several cars in the parking lot and the one that caught Tina's eye was
a white station wagon with the words 'County Coroner' lettered on the
sides.

    "Hmph," Tina didn't wonder at that.

    Someone was running the show, that was obvious, and if it wasn't
Fiddler or Riles, that left Moore and Peterson. The college president
had been instrumental in getting the state police involved, with his
good advice to Helen. A guilty conscience perhaps? Whatever the
reason, it didn't fit the profile of someone orchestrating the cover-
up. That left Floyd Peterson and after meeting with Moore and Riles at
the college, the coroner was paying a visit to the funeral home.

    Yeah, Tina thought, Peterson would be trying to make sure all the
strings were tied up nice and tight.

    The inside of the funeral home was much as Tina might have
expected. Clean and somber, with plush carpeting and deeply stained
wood paneling on the walls. The place was tastefully decorated with
flowers and classic antique furniture, paintings that avoided being
overtly religious, but offered a sense of tranquility nonetheless. It
was soothing and calm and like any of the dozens of funeral homes Tina
had visited previously. The foyer was large and there were several
viewing rooms. One of them was being used as Tina glanced inside to
see several older people sitting quietly near an open casket
surrounded by flowers.

    "May I help you?" a young man asked Tina gently, his voice equal
to the surroundings. "Are you here to visit Mr. Rodriquez?" He was
dressed in a dark suit and handsome, like a salesman, Tina thought.

    "No," Tina said quietly, stepping away from the open door. "I'm
Detective Vasquez..." she held up her badge. "What's your name?"

    "Texas Rangers?" the man narrowed his eyes and then blinked at the
woman. "Oh, uh JB...Justin. Justin McKinnen. I mean, everyone calls me
JB...What can I do for you?"

    "I'm looking for Doctor Peterson, actually," Tina smiled. "I was
told I could find him here."

    "Floyd? Oh, he's talking to my dad right now," JB said, smoothing
his short black hair somewhat nervously in Tina's opinion. "Uh, is
this about a...big case or...something?"

    "Or something," Tina nodded. "I'd like to meet your dad too. Are
they in his office or..." The Ranger looked around expectantly, waiting
for the young man.

    "Yeah," JB glanced over his shoulder towards a door marked
'Private' and then he offered Tina an apologetic smile. "I'm not sure
we can go in there right now, but..."

    "It's okay," Tina looked to her left as the front doors of the
funeral home opened and a Hispanic family entered the funeral home
dressed in their Sunday best. A fortyish husband and his wife, three
teenage children, all of them looking sad and serious and the
youngest, a girl of ten or 11 years, smiled at Tina. But it was a
small one.

    "I suppose I could wait here and question them when they're
finished..." Tina started saying and JB shook his head quickly at that
idea.

    "No, I don't...yeah, um...this way..." he gestured. Decorum was
everything in the mortuary business and having a policewoman waiting
to ask who-knows-what in the funeral home's foyer wasn't what anyone
would want.

    The private door led to several others and stairs leading to the
basement. JB knocked on the door that said 'Tyler McKinnen - Funeral
Director' engraved on a brass plate, and then opened it slowly to
reveal a rather more spacious office than Tina would have expected.
She saw a comfortable living room set and realized this was probably
where the funeral home's customers made their sad choices when it came
time to say goodbye. There were several binders, like oversized photo
albums, on the coffee table.

    "What is it JB...oh..." a man stopped speaking as he saw Tina and he
looked like his son, tall and handsome with black hair going silver.
He stood up slowly from behind his desk.

    Floyd Peterson, who was tall and rather gaunt and dressed somewhat
more casually than the Funeral Director, frowned and drew his gray
eyes deep beneath his furrowed brow. He hadn't been expecting the
Ranger to come here, not this quickly.

    "Mr. McKinnen?" Tina was retrieving her identification and she
held it up as she walked into the room and introduced herself to the
two men. "...I'm investigating the disappearance of Lisa Thomas."

    "Who?" McKinnen blinked rapidly and he wasn't much of a poker
player, Tina decided.

    "You don't have to say anything, Tyler," Peterson said from his
chair. "Just sit down and..."

    "I'm also investigating the murder of Barbara Welch," Tina
continued talking, putting her ID back inside her purse. "Floyd
Peterson?"

    "Yes?" the man turned a little more in his chair and the word
murder had brought some color to his cheeks, but it was the gun the
woman pulled out of her purse that made him jerk to his feet.

    "I'm arresting you for obstruction of justice and conspiracy to
commit murder," Tina told the man. "Move, over there, hands against
the wall. JB..." Tina gave the young man a glance, "...sit down on the
sofa there."

    "You can't be serious," Floyd blinked at the Ranger.

    "Hands against the wall," Tina repeated and she wasn't overly
worried about JB or his father, the boy had sat down quickly and Tyler
McKinnen had gone white as a sheet. Desperate people did desperate
things, true, but those two were just frightened and confused.

    "You've got nothing," Peterson spat. "Who do you think you are?"

    "You have the right to remain silent, anything you tell me can be
used in court against you," Tina said, turning Peterson around and
pressing the old man into place as she frisked him quickly with her
left hand. "You have the right to have a lawyer present during
questioning. Do you understand me?"

    Tina hadn't really planned on arresting Peterson immediately,
although the original files that Helen had provided gave the Ranger
enough evidence to charge him. She'd have rather waited until she knew
exactly who had raped and murdered Barbara before grabbing anyone, but
this was a good opportunity to put some real fear into McKinnen. The
man looked twenty years older than he had just a few minutes
previously.

    "Give me your hands," Tina handcuffed the coroner and he wasn't
saying anything, just glowering at her as Tina walked him to a chair
and sat him down. "Stay there, Doctor."

    "I don't know anything about...about a murder," Tyler McKinnen was
shaking and he hadn't moved at all.

    "I believe you," Tina told him. "Why don't you sit down and tell
me what you do know."

    "Tyler..." Peterson breathed a warning and the funeral director
swallowed hard.

    "M-Maybe I, uh...I need a lawyer or..." McKinnen looked at Tina as she
sat in a chair near the man's desk.

    "You're not under arrest," Vaquez reminded him. "Tell me about the
girl."

    "But..." the old man licked his lips and glanced at his son who was
still sitting on the sofa. "I need to know my...my boy, he didn't...it was
my fault."

    "If you cooperate with me," Tina said slowly, "I can make that
clear to the attorney general."

    "Uh..."

    "I can't make any deals, Mr. McKinnen," Tina stared at him. "No
promises, but if you hold back on me, it'll go a lot worse for
everyone. It always does."

    "Don't you say anything, Tyler," Peterson growled.

    "Shut-up!" McKinnen frowned across the room at the coroner. "This
is all your fault anyway. Just shut-up!"

    "I know you didn't want to get involved, but it's time to make it
right," Tina told the man. "Lisa Thomas came here, didn't she?"

    "Yeah," Tyler McKinnen closed his eyes, nodding slowly. "She was
here."

    "What happened to her?" Tina asked gently. "Her family has to
know. Her sister..."

    Like most people involved in a crime, Tyler McKinnen was a victim
of circumstance more than a willing participant. He wasn't a bad man,
Tina knew, he'd lived his whole life caring for others, bringing
comfort to those who suffered the loss of a loved one. Business or
not, a man didn't do a job like that for mere money and the guilt on
his face was replaced by shame as he began to speak over Peterson's
angry objections.


=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=


    Lisa Thomas had been in that Monday morning early and then again
that afternoon, returning in a new dress and freshly made-up to be
truly beautiful in her grief. She remained sitting in the viewing room
with Barbara Welch until near sunset. The girl had left once more
then, but only briefly, and people did that. It wasn't easy to mourn
and most folks forget that, until it happens to them. Lisa had sat
there for four hours, maybe five and then she'd gone for a walk. She
came back as night fell over the west Texas town and Barbara was still
there. Still waiting.

    Ethan Moore was there as well. The college was taking care of the
arrangements, paying for everything. Ms. Welch didn't have any family,
leastwise none that Ethan's secretary, Laura, had been able to find.
So Ethan was taking care of it and he'd gotten some help from Lisa
because he understood the two women were close, but mostly the college
president had tried to give the girl her privacy.

    That Monday evening he was back and Moore had sat for awhile and
spoken with Lisa, but McKinnen didn't know or care what was said. He
could easily imagine the words. When Ethan left he found Tyler in the
Funeral Director's office and offered the man three hundred dollars to
give Lisa as much time with Barbara as the girl needed. "McKinnen had
refused, but Moore insisted and left the money on McKinnen's desk with
the understanding that Lisa would be able to stay all night if she
desired.

    There was little else anyone could do for her.

    There was the soft rattle of a key in the door and the Funeral
Director, an austere gentleman, peered inside. His eyes were soft and
brown and he smiled at Lisa apologetically. She was sitting in the
front row, wearing a pretty dress, blue and gold like her hair. She'd
been crying, and she was again after speaking with Ethan Moore, and
Lisa turned her head at the sound.

    "Dr. Moore told me you'd be in here, Miss Thomas. I usually close
up about this time..." Tyler said quietly.

    "Okay," Lisa frowned and wiped her eyes, taking a deep, ragged
breath. She stood up slowly and looked at Barbara, preparing to say
goodbye again, for the third time that day.

    "Oh, no ma'am. What I mean to say is, you can..." McKinnen cleared
his throat. "You can stay if you'd like. Dr. Moore explained that the
two of you were close and, well...we don't have anyone else here so if
you'd like to stay longer..."

    "I can stay?" Lisa asked. "It's alright?"

    "Yes ma'am," Tyler agreed. "Just close the doors behind you,
they'll lock okay. I'll just be in my office if, uh...if you need
anything. Goodnight Miss Thomas."

    "Thank you," Lisa nodded quickly and the older man pulled the door
closed behind him as he left the girl alone.


=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=


    "So Moore paid you to let her spend the night here," Tina nodded
as she took her notes.

    "Yeah, but..." McKinnen shrugged. "I would have done it anyway. I
still have the money. Never spent it for anything."

    "Was that the last time you saw her?" Tina asked him and the
Funeral Director looked away from the woman's green eyes.

    "It was the last time I saw her alive," he said softly. "I keep
thinking maybe if I'd just sat with her..."

    "What happened?" Tina prompted him after a minute of silence.

    "Huh? Oh...I slept on the sofa there," McKinnen gestured to where JB
was sitting, listening to his father talk. "About five, quarter after
maybe, I went to check on Barbara..."

    "On Lisa..." Tina said.

    "On Miss Thomas too, yeah," he took a deep breath.


=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=


    His bedside phone awakened Ethan at 5:30 am. It took him 6 minutes
to dress, putting on the wrinkled suit that he'd been wearing the day
before. Another 14 minutes to reach the McKinnen Fueral Home and
then...

    Ethan Moore sat in his car, shutting off the engine and staring
east, at the pleasant glow of the imminent sunrise. He closed his
eyes, praying softly although he was not a religious man by nature. He
prayed this was all a dream. That he'd imagined the phone call. That
he'd wake up. Shaking and sweating with fear, the way he sometimes did
when he dreamt of his year in Vietnam. He'd been 18 and patriotic,
like all good Texas boys. And for 365 days he'd been a walking dead
man. Now, sitting in his car, Ethan felt the same way again. He was
dead. Inside his heart there was the great black abyss and it was
staring back at him.

    The Sheriff was already there, of course, along with the County
Coroner's station wagon. But no ambulance. Ethan took a deep breath
and got out, walking slowly across the parking lot and into the
building. He found Floyd Peterson, Owen Fiddler, and the Tyler
McKinnen in the foyer.

    "Ethan." Floyd took a deep breath. It was almost impossible to
know where to start and none of the men wanted to say anything.

    Ethan walked past them, into the viewing room where Barbara
Welch's body was lying in repose. He walked to the casket and looked
inside, seeing Lisa and Barbara together. The younger woman was naked,
her clothing neatly folded on one of the chairs, and now seemingly
cradled in the arms of her lover. Barbara had been undressed as well
and that wouldn't have been difficult to manage as her clothing had
been cut along the back by Tyler to make dressing the woman easier. It
was common practice and one that few people outside of the business
would ever need to know about.

    There were large and still wet bloodstains all along the white
satin bed of the casket. The pillow too was stained with it, and of
course Barbara herself was colored with Lisa's blood. The girl looked
pale and still as a statue, beautiful and placid without any of the
sadness she'd worn the previous evening. Lisa had felt no pain, Ethan
realized, no fear or doubt. She'd done it, opened the veins in her
wrists, and been content with it.

    The other three men walked in silently.

    "Suicide," Sheriff Fiddler said needlessly.

    "Did you know about that, Ethan?" Floyd looked at the disheveled
man. "That they were lovers?"

    Ethan nodded. "I had...suspicions."

    "Well, this is pretty straight forward. The little dyke just
couldn't get enough muff!" Fiddler was grinning. "She come sneaking in
round midnight, got her clothes off so she could do a little of that
Necro-feel-my-maniac business and played doctor with a razor blade.
Hell, Ethan, this gonna make that little old college of yours
famous!"

    And Ethan hit him solidly in the jaw, knocking the big sheriff
down. Fiddler rubbed his shocked and then scowling face and started
getting up.

    "I'd stay down, Owen," Floyd said softly. But Fiddler ignored him
and Ethan hit him again, even harder this time, and the Sheriff's head
bounced off the soft thick carpet.

    Ethan massaged his hand, feeling a little pain from his arthritis
flair up beneath his bruised knuckles.

    "You think Riles is satisfied yet?" Moore's voice was edged with
accusation. "This girl didn't do anything to anyone." He pointed at
Lisa's body without looking at her. "And you know what, Floyd? I'm
going to get a call from the Board, because they already know, don't
they? Don't they?" he shouted at Peterson and the coroner nodded.

    "Son of a bitch..." Fiddler muttered, but he wasn't getting up quite
yet and the other three men ignored him.

    "And they're going to tell me to bury it," Moore predicted.
"They're going to say that we don't need the problems. That we have a
good school. A good community. And 1400 good students to protect."

    "We take care of our own first," Peterson said slowly.

    Ethan backed away. "What have we done?" he whispered to himself.

    "We're in it, Ethan. Every one of us now," the coroner said softly
as he looked at the girl. Then he spoke a little louder. "Did she have
family?"

    "I don't know," Ethan sighed, expressing the exhaustion he was
feeling.

    "Find out." The county coroner walked past the Sheriff, still
sitting on the floor amidst some scattered chairs, Floyd ignored him
and started talking to the funeral director.

    "Anybody else know about this?" Floyd asked McKinnen sharply. They
were the same age, or close enough that they'd grow up together, and
while they didn't share a friendship, they shared a long past and that
counted for a lot in a small town like West Abilene.

    "No. I found her myself," Tyler said. "My boy won't be coming in
until eight. I didn't call anyone except you and Ethan."

    "Good. You keep this one quiet, you understand me Tyler? Nobody
knows anything. Ever. Except what I decide," Peterson rubbed his chin
thoughtfully. "You got any business coming in today?"

    The funeral director shook his head no. "Not unless something
turns up."

    "Okay, you go call your son, tell him to take the day off. Tell
him to go fishing or something, just keep JB away from here." He
stared at the man hard. "And you don't say anything about this."

    "I heard you Floyd. I got it." The man frowned and looked at his
watch. "I'll give him a ring about seven, much earlier than that and
it won't be good."

    Ethan had been on his cellular phone, waking up his secretary and
they were still talking when Floyd walked back over. The Sheriff had
gotten up, looking warily at the college president, and now sat
sulking and nursing his sore jaw.

    "...I need to know if Lisa Thomas had any family...That's right...Get
her student records...I need next of kin, yeah...and call the Board...I know
what time it is, Laura. I know...Call the Board and set up a meeting...as
soon as possible...No, I don't know what's going on...Lisa? She's..." he
glanced at Floyd, "...Lisa is missing...yeah, just disappeared... probably...
yeah, I'm sure you're right...she needs some time...okay...Call me when you
find her records...Right. Bye Laura."

    "Owen, come here," Floyd called over his shoulder and then looked
at Moore. "You did good Ethan." He patted the college president's
shoulder, but the older man drew back. "We have to do what's best now.
For all of us."

    "You hit me again Ethan and I'm liable to get angry," Sheriff
Fiddler said, fingering the revolver on his hip.

    "Shut-up, Owen." Floyd stared at Fiddler and the Sheriff looked
down. "You got a missing person, reported by the college president.
One Lisa Thomas, missing for 12 hours, no reason to assume she's in
danger. Just another college kid who left for Hollywood or New York
maybe."

    "Runaway," Fiddler nodded and Ethan frowned.

    "You talk to her friends, teachers, neighbors. Ethan's concerned
because she was close to her coach." Floyd looked at Moore, making
sure he was listening. "So you're doing the neighborly thing and
checking, even though she technically ain't missing for 72 hours. You
got all that? You do it the right way, don't put too many people on
it. Don't talk about it, no bullshit. Put one deputy on it, send the
Hansen kid, he's dumb as dirt anyway."

    Tyler McKinnen was standing nearby and trying not to listen. He
knew enough that he didn't want to hear any of what Floyd was saying
and the man had a feeling he knew too much already. The girl had
killed herself and he didn't understand a lot of the fuss that was
being made. The necrophilia thing? It happened. This wasn't the first
and wouldn't be the last case of it that he'd hear about, or even see
right there in his own parlor. People did a lot of funny things under
the stress of losing someone they loved.

    Ordinary people just didn't understand, he thought with a private
sigh. He gazed at the two women, wondering how Lisa had managed to get
her lover's dead arms around her. It seemed impossible, especially
since the fingers of Barbara's right hand were tight around the back
of Lisa's neck, as if the dead woman had pulled the girl as close as
possible while Lisa lay dying. The mortician shrugged and turned away,
he'd seen a lot of strange things in his line of work.

    "Tyler, come here," Floyd jerked his head and the funeral director
walked over reluctantly. "You get this body cremated, right away."

    "You mean both..." McKinnen started to ask, but Peterson held up a
hand to silence him.

    "There's only one body in that coffin, Tyler. Barbara Welch's
body. Nobody here saw anything different." He looked at the other men
meaningfully. "You cremate her body, just like you're supposed to.
Give Ethan the remains and get on with business." He walked over and
closed the lid of the casket over Barbara and Lisa forever. "Lisa
Thomas is a missing person and we haven't seen her."

    Ethan took phone calls from both his secretary and from the
Chairman of the Board of Trustees. He'd learned that Lisa had only a
surviving sister, who lived in Dallas. He took the woman's name and
phone number, scribbling it on a bit of paper from his wallet. He
promised his secretary he'd be in the office shortly and hung up. Then
came the call from the Board.

    It was as Ethan had predicted. Nobody wanted their school to be
known as a haven for necrophiliac lesbians, suicidal or not. That the
girl was dead made it even worse. Ethan would do everything he could
to keep it quiet and the Board had already forgotten the matter.
They'd be referring any and all enquiries to the college president.
Somehow all of that had been expressed without mentioning the name of
the girl in question, not even once. It was as though the chairman was
speaking hypothetically, but then again he was a lawyer and they were
known for being able to talk around...things.

    The chairman asked Ethan if he had any ideas, now that he knew the
Board's position

    "Lisa Thomas is..." he swallowed hard. "She's a missing person."

    "Hmmmm...Lisa Thomas? I don't recall a Lisa Thomas," the lawyer's
voice said. And that was when Ethan made his decision that sometimes
the greater good of the majority was not worth the sacrifice of the
individual. He just didn't know what to do about it yet.


=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=


    "Doctor Moore told you that?" Tina looked up from her notepad and
McKinnen shrugged.

    "We spoke when I gave him the ashes," the funeral director said.
"I just wanted to forget about it."

    "But Moore..."

    "I don't know," McKinnen looked into the woman's face. "He's a
better man than me, I guess."

    "I'm going to need a written statement of everything you just told
me," Tina said.

    "Don't you do it, Tyler." Peterson said. "All she's got is
hearsay. You can take it all back..."

    "No I cant," Tyler McKinnen straightened himself up, turning his
eyes on the coroner handcuffed across the room. "I can't take none of
it back, can I?"



To be continued...

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