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“Let’s sit down.”
    She led the way and they seated themselves about a Formica table with plastic chairs.
    “What about my Nellie?” Alfredo asked. “What’s wrong?”
    “When did you last see her?” Mason asked, ignoring
Alfredo’s question.
    Alfredo rubbed his chin again as if thinking back, and Mason noticed a scar on his cheek that looked old, maybe from a knife. “Last week. Before I left town.”
    “You’ve been out of town?” Mason asked.
    “I drive a truck, big rig, haul petroleum products.” He tapped his foot up and down. “Tell me, is Nellie okay?”
    Mason noted the concern in Cara’s eyes, but forged on. “When did you get back?”
    Alfredo stood, suddenly looking panicky. “This morning, dawn.” He crossed his arms. “Now, tell me about Nellie. Is she okay?”
    Cara drew a deep breath. “No, Alfredo, I’m afraid she’s not.”
    Alfredo’s eyes twitched. “What wrong? Is she in hospital?” He started toward the door. “Tell me, take me to see her.”
    Cara stood and gently gripped his arm. “I’m afraid that’s impossible, Alfredo. I’m so sorry.”
    “Nellie is dead,” Mason cut in, determined to get a visceral reaction from the man. Cara’s sympathy would only stoke his story if he planned to lie. “She was murdered.”
    Alfredo staggered backward, his expression pained. “No...not my Nellie...not dead.”
    “I’m afraid she is,” Cara said softly. “I’m so sorry, Alfredo.”
    Tears welled in the man’s big dark eyes. “No...you’re wrong.”
    “She was murdered and someone buried her on the BBL ranch,” Mason said matter-of-factly. “I found her body this morning when I was out riding.”
    Alfredo slumped into the chair and dropped his head forward, tears rolling down his face. “No...I talk to her. Try to get her to come back to me.”
    “You two broke up about the baby, didn’t you?” Mason pressed. “You didn’t want a child.”
    Anger flashed in Alfredo’s eyes. “No it not like that.”
    Cara covered his hand with hers. “It’s okay,” she said. “You can trust us, Alfredo. Just tell Detective Blackpaw the truth so we can find out who killed Nellie.”
    His startled gaze swung to Mason. “You think I hurt her?”
    Mason made a low sound in his throat. “I think she got pregnant, you didn’t want a child, then she had the baby and gave it away. Then what? You changed your mind?”
    Alfredo’s mouth thinned into an angry line. “It true at first I not want baby.” He paced, his movements agitated. “I worry about taking care of child. Had no job back then.” He rushed to the counter and grabbed his wallet. “But last month I get good job with trucking company.” He yanked out ticket stubs and receipts, spilling them on the table. “See. I tell Nellie I take care of her and baby now, but she say it too late.”
    “And that made you mad, didn’t it?” Mason said. “So you tried to force her to come back to you. What happened then?” He got in the man’s face. “Did you say no, it was over? Did she tell you that you’d never get your kid back?”
    Alfredo’s face crumpled. “She did say it too late, that couple adopt our little girl.” He choked on the last word. “But I promise her I still love her and want her back.” He thumped his finger on the receipts. “See, these from my run. I leave last week, go cross country. Stop at a different motel each night. Gas up. Stay in El Paso last night. It all there.”
    Cara sifted through them, then looked up at Mason. “He’s telling the truth, Mason. The receipts prove he wasn’t anywhere near town or the BBL.”
    Mason sighed. Alfredo could have hired someone to kill Nellie, but judging from the genuine-looking tears on his face and the fact that he didn’t have much money, he didn’t appear to be the kind of person to pay for murder, or be able to afford it.
    Not in the heinous way Nellie had been killed. And if so, why would he bury her using a Comanche ritualistic