Rattlesnake Crossing

"Afterward, what?" Joa

"You got it," Detective Carbajal replied bleakly. "From the middle of her forehead to the back of her neck, there's nothing left but bare bone. Nothing at all."

Stu

"Have you called Ernie?" she asked finally.

"Not yet, but I will."

"Do it right away. I talked to him just a little while ago from the Pima County Medical Examiner's office. If we're lucky, you may be able to catch him and Dr. Daly before she starts on the second autopsy. Where are you now?"

"Still at the scene. The S and R guys are roping it off. Evidence techs are up working on the ledge. There's no sense in bringing them here until after the ME does what she needs to do."

"All right," Joa

"Will do," Jamie replied. "How soon do you expect to be here, Sheriff Brady?"

"Soon," Joa

CHAPTER ELEVEN

As soon as she turned the key in the ignition, Joa

"Sheriff Brady," she said, "your gentleman friend is already here. I've got him stowed in a booth and drinking coffee."

"Good," Joa

"What about O.J.?" Daisy asked.

"I'll have some of that, too."

"Good enough," Daisy said. "It'll be on the table by the time you get here."

When Joa

She climbed out of the Blazer and slammed the door. That was when she saw a little white Nissan Sentra sedan with the Bisbee Bee logo on the door and a windshield sun-screen with the word PRESS printed on the outside. Joa

In the small-town world of Bisbee and of Cochise County, Joa

Marliss had already been introduced to Butch Dixon once-on the occasion of Joa

For two cents Joa

Because Daisy was already carrying a pair of loaded plates toward the booth where Butch was sitting, Joa

"Good morning, sunshine," Butch said with a grin, toasting her with his newly filled coffee cup. "I understand this is going to be wham, bam, thank you ma'am. I'm glad you could squeeze me in, although you're probably here more for the chorizo and eggs than you are for me."

"I'm sorry to do this to you twice in a row," Joa

The grin disappeared from Butch's face. "The woman who was missing?"

"You know about that?" Joa

Butch held up a copy of that morning's Bee. "I'd say the coverage was pretty thorough. I always wondered what happened to the guy."

"What happened to what guy?"

"To Da

"You mean you know him?"

"I don't know him per se, but I know of him. He’s a former Indy driver. He won several races. Placed second or maybe third at Indy one year. Was named Rookie of the Year. The next year during the Indy 500, he wiped out one of the rack people-one of the safety workers. He walked away from the wreck and the track. That was the last I ever heard of him until I read about him in this morning's paper. At least I'm assuming it's the same guy. How many Daniel Berridges could there be?"

“The article didn't actually identify him as the same guy?”

"No, but 1 just assumed. He's evidently had a hell of a life, and now with his wife turning up dead…"

Joa

"I can see why you're in a hurry," Butch said, picking up his fork. "You'd better go ahead and eat before it gets cold. You need to keep up your strength."

Joa

"I didn't know it was possible to find a place that still served homemade tortillas."

Joa