Dead Wrong

“About another quarter mile,” Dolores answered. “Then there’s a gate.”

Joa

“We’ll see.”

Tica’s voice came through on the radio. “It turns out Deputy Raymond is in the area. He’s already turned off onto Triple H Ranch Road. The other two deputies are in Huachuca City and over near Kartchner Caverns. They should arrive soon as well.”

“Good work.”

Several times between there and the gate, the Crown Victoria’s undercarriage scraped across loose boulders and outcrop-pings of rock. Twice, when the creek bed switched back and forth across the road, the Crown Victoria almost mired down in loose sand. Only by maintaining sufficient speed was Ernie able to jolt the vehicle to the far side.

“She’s right, you know,” Ernie grumbled. “Four-wheel drive would be a lot better.”

“This is where I dropped him,” Dolores a

Joa

“I can if you can,” he said.

Joa

“But…”

“Not buts, Mrs. Mattias. We have Kevlar vests. You don’t. It’s for your own safety. You can either give me your word that you’ll stay here, or we lock you in. Which is it?”

“I’ll stay,” Dolores agreed.

“How far is it from here?”

“I don’t know. Joaquin took a shovel with him and went up that path.”

“Did he have a weapon with him?” Joa

“Maybe,” Dolores answered. “I don’t know for sure.”

That wasn’t much consolation.

Ernie had gone around to the trunk and retrieved the semiautomatic rifle and twelve-gauge shotgun Joa

“Listen,” he said.

On the far side of the creek, Joa

“What if he heads for the gate?” Joa

“I’ll go,” Ernie said and was gone.

Alone now, Joa

Then, on the far edge of the clearing, something glinting in the sun caught her attention. Sticking to the tree line, Joa

Behind Joa

Then she heard it-a low moan that seemed to come from somewhere near the mound of dirt.

“Who is it?” she demanded. “Where are you?”

“Help me,” a weak voice replied. “I’ve been shot.”

Joa

“Mr. Mattias?” Joa

“No,” he pleaded. “Don’t go. Stay here with me. It’s too late for help.”

“But…”

“No,” he wheezed. “Someone has to hear this so people know what happened. I was digging them up. It’s the best I could do. At least now they’ll have a decent burial. I’m so sorry.”

Joa

“She made me help her,” he managed. “She said if I didn’t, she’d tell her husband about us.”

“Ruth, you mean?”

Joaquin tried to raise himself up out of the dirt, but the effort was too much. He fell back into the musty earth, coughing and gasping.

“Ruth,” he managed. “Ruth and Rory She wanted to get rid of Aileen’s baby. I didn’t know about him until it happened and he was helping her. By then it was too late. Tell Dolores… Tell Dolores…”

“Tell Dolores what?” Joa

She heard the sound of a surging engine as a vehicle made its way up the rough dirt track. She turned to see a departmental Yukon materialize on the far side of the clearing. Seconds later, Deputy Matt Raymond pounded up to Joa

“Sheriff Brady, what do you…?”

She pointed at the injured man’s prone body. “See if you can lift him out of there,” she said. “Ernie, call for an ambulance.”

Agilely Deputy Raymond dropped into the hole, placing his feet on either side of the injured man, but just then Joaquin Mattias exhaled a single ragged breath.

“It’s too late for an ambulance, Sheriff Brady,” Deputy Raymond said. “I’m pretty sure he’s gone.”

“Leave him then,” Ernie urged. “We’ll come back later. The guy on the horse made it through the gate before I ever got there. He was riding hell-bent-for-leather and didn’t even see Dolores sitting in the car.”

“Rory Markham?” Joa

“Probably,” Ernie returned. “I diverted the other units,” he added. “I sent them to the house rather than having them come here.”

“All right,” Joa

Leaving Joaquin’s body where it was, the three officers raced back across the clearing. Joa

Halfway to the gate, they met Dolores Mattias lurching up the path on foot. When Deputy Raymond stopped the Yukon, Joa

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Mattias,” she said, taking the distraught woman by the arm. “You can’t go there.”

Dolores shook off Joa

By then, Ernie, too, was at the woman’s side. “Like Sheriff Brady said, Mrs. Mattias, you can’t go there. It’s a crime scene.”

“A crime scene?” she repeated. “What kind of crime scene?”

“I hate to tell you this,” Joa

“Joaquin is dead?” Dolores Mattias said uncomprehendingly.

“Please come with us,” Joa

Wordlessly, as her body convulsed into heaving sobs, Dolores Mattias allowed herself to be helped into the Yukon and buckled into her seat.

Tica Romero’s voice, distorted by static, hissed through the radio. “We have two units within sight of the ranch house now. They report there’s a horse tethered to a post on the front porch. Please advise how many people, besides the suspect, are likely to be inside and what you want our guys to do.”

“In addition to the suspect three people are most likely inside,” Joa