Desert Heat

Joa

From the hospital it was a straight shot down Cole Avenue to Walter McFadden’s place. It was after eleven and no lights were showing when she pulled up outside the gate side of his yard. As she fumbled for the parking brake in the unfamiliar vehicle, a car with its lights on bright pulled up directly behind her and stopped. Temporarily blinded by bright lights followed by total darkness, she blinked once. In that brief instant of time, someone was beside the car door wrenching it open.

“Get out,” a man ordered.

Joa

“Hello, Mr. Vargas,” she said coolly, stepping out of the car to face him, refusing to look at the gun he was holding in his hand.

“You know who I am, then?”

Joa

“When I get through with you, everyone else will too,” she responded, deliberately taunting him.

A chillingly insincere smile flickered across Tony Vargas’ broad features. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that if I were you. Where’s Angie? Where’s my book?”

“Someplace safe. Someplace where you won’t be able to find them.”

Vargas turned his head slightly but without taking his eyes off her. “Hey, Ken, turn on the dome light in there, would you?” he asked.

Joa

She turned back to Vargas in sudden fury. “What are they doing here?” she demanded.

He smiled again. “Don’t get excited. You sell insurance, don’t you, Mrs. Brady? And that’s what they are. My insurance policy. You’re going to drive this car to wherever you’ve hidden Angie. When I have her and my book, you’re going to drive us to Ken’s airplane down at the airport. Once we’re safely out of here, then you get your mother and the little girl back, understand?”

Waller McFadden’s back porch light snapped on. The door opened and Tigger came out first, followed by the sheriff himself, barefoot and wearing jeans and a T-shirt. He was limping down his back steps. “Who’s out here?” he demanded. “What’s going on?”

The interior light of the patrol car snapped off and Ken Galloway stepped out of the car. “No biggie,” he said calmly, walking over to the gate. “We’re just doing a little damage control.”

“Damage control!” Joa

“Is that true, Ken?” McFadden asked. “About Je

Ken shook his head. “It’s like Tony was telling Joa

Tigger came up behind Walter, tail wagging, and dropped the Frisbee at his master’s feet. Seeing him, McFadden shook his head. “Go lie down,” the sheriff ordered. The dog, disappointed, retreated to the back porch while Walter McFadden turned back to Ken Galloway.

“It’s over then, isn’t it, Ken, for all of us. But I’m not leaving. I’ve wanted it to be over for a helluva long time. I just didn’t have guts enough to do anything about it.”

With no further warning, McFadden flung open the metal gate, catching Ken Galloway by surprise and full in the midsection. The top brine of the gate slammed into his ribs, sending him reeling backwards toward the patrol car. When Vargas turned to help Galloway, Joa

Throughout the confrontation, she had been edging her hand nearer the pocket containing the gun. Now her fingers closed around the grip of the.44. Carefully she thumbed back the hammer. At that close range, there was no need to aim the weapon or even bring it fully out of her pocket.

When she pulled the trigger, the roar of gunfire was deafening. The force of the recoil sent her spi

Tony’s gun fell from his hand, but it was still within reach. As soon as Joa

“Go ahead and shoot,” Walter McFadden dared Galloway. “That way I’ll have the monkey off my back once and for all.” As he spoke, the sheriff was easing himself through the now-open gate, steadily closing the distance between himself and his renegade deputy.

“Stop right there, Walter,” Galloway warned. “Don’t come any closer.”

“Actually,” Walter drawled, “I do believe I much prefer shooting.”

All the while the sheriff was moving inevitably forward as Galloway backed away. That’s when Joa

“That way I won’t have to stand around any longer, turning a blind eye to your slimy blackmail deals and murder for hire schemes,” McFadden continued. “I’m looking forward to that, to not having scumbags like you in my life, Ken. Besides, if you do a good enough job, if your aim is good enough, there won’t be enough of me left over to ship off to prison. I never did much like Florence, you know. It’s too damned hot up there.”

With that, Walter McFadden lunged forward, throwing himself toward Ken Galloway’s gun. In the blazing hail of gunfire that followed, both men went down, first Ken Galloway and then Sheriff Walter McFadden.

Joa

“Watch him,” Joa

She rushed to Walter McFadden and knelt beside him. He was pressing his hand to his chest, a hand’s breadth beneath his breastbone. Despite the pressure, blood still oozed up through his fingers.

“Good shooting, Joa

“Quiet,” she said. “Listen to the siren. The ambulance is on its way.”

“Morphine was the hook-that’s what finally got me,” he whispered. “When the pain got too bad, when Carol was crying for it in middle of the night, I would’ve done anything to get it for her. One buy was all it took. As soon as I stepped out of line, the bastards had me.”