Rattlesnake Crossing

"I'd appreciate that, Ernie," she told him gratefully. "I'd appreciate it more than you know."

Leaving the on-going crime-scene investigations under the overall direction of Dick Voland, Joa

"If these guys want to pay good money to turn themselves into real Indians for two weeks at a time, you'd think they'd be tough enough to put up with real Arizona weather."

Ernie ignored the wry humor in her comment. "The scalping's real enough," he said grimly. "Whoever's doing this made damned sure he got that part right."

Joa

"No," he admitted. "I never have."

"Since it's likely the killer's using a sniper rifle, is it possible all of this is co

Ernie thought about that for a moment. "It could be, I suppose," he said finally. "The fact that a fifty-caliber may have been used in this latest case does point in that direct ion. We know from what Frank told us that Clyde was trying to demo a fifty caliber, so he must have had one or more in stock.”

"Frank told me this morning that Clyde claimed to have three different models available for immediate delivery."

"So he did have some, then," Ernie mused. "But which ones? And how do we know the killer's rifle is one of them? Without any serial numbers…"

"Wait a minute." Joa

"Not that many," he replied. "More than five but probably less than twenty nationwide."

"As soon as you get back to the department, and when you're not busy dodging reporters, I want you to call all those companies. ATF should be able to help out in locating manufacturers. Once you have them on the phone, find out if any of them were doing business with Clyde Philips in Pomerene. They should be able to come up with lists of serial numbers."

"Will do," Frank returned. "I'll get to it as soon as possible, although it may be a while. The first wad of reporters just drove up and they're clamoring for information. I told them to go to the Quarter Horse in Benson and wait for me there. How are you doing on the next-of-kin notification?"

"We're about to pull into the yard at Rattlesnake Crossing. We'll check in with you as soon as it's done."

Joa

"If a person had a strong enough scope," she observed, "he could have sat right here and seen the whole thing."

"That's a pretty big if," Detective Carpenter replied.

Nailed to the doorjamb was a wooden notice that said, PLEASE ENTER. Since there was no sign of either a bell or a knocker, Joa

Ernie picked up the small silver bell and gave it a shake. For a long time after that, nothing happened. While they waited, Joa

Come to Apache Country, the bold-faced ad copy said. Live along the fabled San Pedro as Native American Peoples did for thousands of years before the corning of the White Man. Give your mind body the purifying cleansing that only a sweat lodge ceremony can provide. Find or renew your life's purpose by enduring your own personal Vision Quest. Return to your workaday world with the blessing and direction that can come only from the Great Spirit.

She handed the brochure to Ernie and he read it, too. "Who dreamed this up?" he asked, handing it back to her. "Sounds like the Apaches meet the New Agers. A two-week stay probably comes complete with frequent-flyer miles and a free pass to the Happy Hunting Ground. And the restorative value of the purification ceremony will be directly proportioned to how much lighter the poor guy's wallet is."

Suppressing a chuckle, Joa

THE LEGEND OF RATTLESNAKE CROSSING

Once, no rattlesnakes lived in the Land of the Apaches. They roamed the cliffs and hills on the far side of the river, but the water was so deep and swift that none could cross it. One day a great storm settled over the valley. From one full moon to the next, it rained and rained. It rained so long and so hard that some of the mountains tumbled down across the path of the river, leaving behind a wall of solid earth. Wise Old Rattlesnake took some of the younger ones and led them across the river. They have lived here ever since.

"May I help you?"

Joa

"I'm Sheriff Joa

A quick flash of something that looked like hope passed across the man's chiseled features. "I'm Da

"We're not sure, Mr. Berridge," Ernie put in. "We need to ask you a few questions."

"You have found her!" Daniel Berridge exclaimed as all hope disappeared from his face and was replaced by unmasked despair. "She's dead, isn't she? I knew it. What happened? Did she fall? Did a cougar get her? A snake? What?"

In this case, Joa

"An Omega," Daniel Berridge answered at once. "I bought it for her for Christmas years ago."