Dead Wrong

“Are you saying even mystery writing is political?” Joa

Butch laughed. “Evidently. Now, how are you?”

“Woke up early with my usual backache. And the baby’s a busy little bee today. I’ve been doing paperwork, but it’s about time to shower and go in to work.”

“You don’t have to work until the last minute,” Butch said.

“I want to work,” Joa

Maria

“Wish I could join you,” Butch said. “I don’t think lunch here will be that much fun.”

Joa

“Good morning, Sheriff Brady,” Tica Romero said. “I hope it’s not too early to call.”

“It’s not,” Joa

“We’ve got a homicide,” Tica responded. “Halfway between Bisbee Junction and Paul’s Spur.”

Joa

“How long ago did it happen?” she asked.

“A border patrol officer called it in just a few minutes ago,” Tica answered. “Detectives Carbajal and Carpenter are already on their way. So’s Dave Hollicker.”

Dave was Joa

Joa

It was a reasonable assumption. Border Road was called that because it ran for miles right along the sagging remains of a barbed-wire fence that constituted the official dividing line between the United States and Mexico. The unimpeded flood of illegal crossers pouring over that line posed a constant drain on Joa

“The Border Patrol guy says it’s not,” Tica replied. “The victim is wrapped in a tarp, but from what the officer could see, he’s male, balding, and with light-colored hair and fair skin.”

“Which means he’s probably some poor Anglo dummy who ended up in the wrong place at the wrong time. A coyote probably got him.”

Joa

On one occasion, fifty-eight men had been crammed in the back of an eighteen-wheeler when the truck hauling them had broken down. The driver had abandoned the locked vehicle on the side of the road at high noon on a hot August afternoon. When someone finally pried open the locked cargo door, all but one of the men were dead, and he had perished on his way to the hospital.

“That would be my first guess,” Tica agreed.

“All right,” Joa

“Show up where?” Je

She came into Joa

“At a crime scene,” Joa

“Oh,” Je

As far as Joa

“I can hardly wait until I’m old enough to get my driver’s license,” Je

This wasn’t a fact Joa

“Did you feed the dogs?” she asked.

Je

“Thank you,” Joa

“I have to hit the shower,” she said. “Can you be ready to go in fifteen?”

“I guess,” Je

Joa

Twenty minutes later, Joa

“Ugly critters, aren’t they,” he observed, following Joa

She nodded. “They are that,” she agreed.

“So how’s my favorite mother-to-be?” George added as he dragged an unwieldy folded gurney onto the ground. His pleasant, upbeat ma