Skeleton Canyon

Sheriff Brady saw no point in attempting to explain the twenty-four-hour missing persons rule to Olga Vorevkin. “We will,” she promised instead. “We’ll do our very best.”

Outside in the driveway, the only official vehicles left were Ernie’s white van and Joa

‘‘Where’d everybody go?” Joa

Hastings shrugged. “Beats me,” he said. “Call came in over the radio, and they all took off like they’d been shot out of a ca

Opening the car door, Joa

Larry Kendrick, the Cochise County Sheriff Department’s lead dispatcher, took the call. “We had what at first sounded like a serious explosion over in St. David. Everything’s pretty much under control now, but Chief Deputy Voland didn’t want to disturb either you or Detective Carpenter while you were talking to the O’Briens. Voland headed over to St. David right away, along with two other cars.”

Joa

“No,” Kendrick reassured her. “It wasn’t nearly that serious. It was at a farm near the river on the other side of town, off to the south rather than to the northwest.”

“Any injuries?”

“None reported so far. There was a small fire. Outbuildings only. As I understand it, that’s out now.”

“Keep me posted anyway,” Joa

“That’s not really necessary,” Joa

“I’m sure you can, ma’am,” Hastings said, doffing his hat. “But orders are orders, and since the guy giving the orders also writes my checks, I’ve got no choice but to follow ‘em.”

Hastings ambled away, leaving Joa

“Tomorrow’s another day,” Joa

“You really don’t want me to do anything more tonight?” Ernie asked.

Joa

“Are you sure that’s wise?” Ernie asked. “It looks to me as though David O’Brien has more money than God. And clout to match. What if he decides to put you out of office?”

Joa

“Sounds good to me,” Ernie said, loosening his tie and setting off for his van.

Hastings rumbled up just then on his ATV. First Ernie and then Joa

Fort O’Brien, Joa

Joa

On that still-steamy June Saturday night, other Bisbeeites must have had much the same idea. The draw might have been the almost chilly air-conditioning in the restaurant as much as it was the food. Whatever the reason, Daisy’s was jammed. People stood in clutches of two and three in the cashier’s lobby area, waiting for one of the booths or tables to clear. When Daisy Maxwell, the owner, came to collect the next pair of customers, she spied Joa

“You here by yourself?” Daisy asked, picking up a fistful of menus.

Joa

“There’s a single up at the counter. You’re welcome to that if you like,” Daisy told her. “Everybody else is at least a two-top.”

Collecting a menu of her own, Joa

Moe Maxwell’s usual place of employment was the Bisbee branch of the post office. His primary role in his wife’s restaurant was as chief occupant of the booth nearest the door. There, ensconced with a view that included both the cash register and a tiny black-and-white TV, he would while away his weekend hours drinking coffee and visiting with whichever one of his many cronies happened to stop by.

Sorrowfully, Moe shook his head. “Don’t even ask,” he said, placing a glass of ice water in front of Joa

Joa

“Hot enough for you?” Moe continued, halfheartedly wiping the counter.

Joa

“Good luck with that,” Moe said. “You’d better call for an appointment right away. Jim Hobbs is the only mechanic I know of around town who’s doing that right now. People are lined up out the door. I just went through it myself a couple of weeks back, me and my old GMC I can tell you this, it lightened my wallet by a thousand bucks.”

Joa

Moe nodded, looking even sadder than before. “That’s right,” he replied. “I’m not sure I understand all the details. Has something to do with global warming and holes in the ozone. According to Jim Hobbs, one itty-bitty little thirty-pound canister of Freon costs a thousand bucks a pop these days. Jim retrofitted my truck with some new kind of compressor that uses something else. I can’t remember exactly what it’s called. Had a whole bunch of letters and numbers. R2D2, maybe? Anyways, the damned thing cost me a fortune, and it doesn’t work nearly as well as the Freon did, either. I would have just let it go, but you know Daisy. With her hair the way it is, she can’t even ride to the grocery store with the windows rolled down.”

Joa