Skeleton Canyon

Ernie sat on a nearby rock, wiping the sweat off his forehead. As soon as Detective Carbajal saw Joa

There was no sense in ripping into him about it. “Tell you what, Jaime,” Joa

“Sure thing, Sheriff Brady,” Jaime said. “I’ll get right on it.”

Twenty minutes later, Joa

“Who was that lady?” Ernie asked again. “The one with the Range Rover?”

“Her name’s Frankie Stoddard,” Joa

“Great,” Ernie muttered.

“That’s what I say,” Joa

Angie Kellogg heard the sirens. Sitting in a thicket of mesquite, she watched the drama below. She saw an agitated De

It wasn’t that she liked De

The former included Effie Spangler, Angie’s spry, octogenarian neighbor, who despite her years and having a working clothes dryer in her laundry room, nevertheless preferred drying her wash on a clothesline. The latter included Richard, Effie’s obnoxious husband, who always seemed to find something to do in the backyard whenever Angie was sunbathing and who never failed to complain that her bird feeders were bound to attract rats.

For Angie, there was much to be proud of. There was a normalcy and a regularity to her existence now that would have astonished her family back home in Battle Creek. Some of that normalcy included things her parents themselves had never achieved. For instance, Angie’s snug little house in Galena was completely paid for. She had a job and a car and insurance premiums. She had her own driver’s license and her very own voter’s registration card. All of those achievements should have said she was real.

Yet, in spite of all that, once she told De

She heard him now, calling her name. “Angie, Angie. Where are you?”

I’m up here, she thought determinedly, and I’m not coming down.

From her vantage point high on the hillside, she could see north to a road-a paved highway of some kind. Every ten minutes or so a vehicle would pass slowly in one direction or the other. She knew this wasn’t the road she and De

That’s what I’ll do, she told herself, watching a pickup wend its way along that same paved road. When he finally gives up and leaves, I’ll walk down there and hitchhike home.

But what would she do when she got there? Stay or go? Work her heart out to get along, knowing all the time that as soon as people knew the real story, they would reject her out of hand? What was the use of fighting it? Maybe she should leave for a while, go someplace else. She’d have to give Bobo notice, of course. Give him a chance to find someone to take her place, but that probably wouldn’t be all that hard.

Just then, with that thought barely formed in her head, she felt a whirring past her ear. A high squeak shrilled in her ear as a beautiful, multicolored Lucifer Hummingbird settled on a branch not five feet from where Angie was sitting. He was close enough that she could see the distinctive downcurved bill, the rich purple feathers on the underside of his throat, and the bronze-green hues from crown to rump. Although Angie was careful not to move, he stayed for only a few seconds, then he was off, buzzing down the mountainside.

It was like a fairy tale. It seemed almost as if the beautiful bird had given her permission to go. She stood up as he disappeared from view.

“Good-bye,” she whispered aloud. “I’m leaving, too.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Standing on the edge of the ridge, Joa

“Under the cab,” he replied. “I couldn’t see it, but I know it’s there.”

“how?” Joa

Hacker nodded skyward toward three vultures circling lazily high overhead. “A little bird told me,” he said. “When I got closer, I could figure it out for myself.”

Joa

“No sign of braking or skidding. No sign of her meeting another vehicle and being forced off the cliff.”

“What happened, then?” George asked.

Ernie shook his head. “The only thing I can figure is she came around the rock face too close to the edge and tipped off. But if she was in four-wheel drive, with two wheels still on the track, she should have been able to correct and get back up on the trail-unless she was drunk or sound asleep, that is.”

“Who’d go to sleep driving in a place like this?” George asked, looking around. “Maybe she did it on purpose.”

“Maybe,” Ernie agreed.

“What next?” Joa

“Mr. Hacker says the body is caught under the cab. If that’s the case, we may have to tip the truck over to get at it,” Ernie said.

“But won’t that run the risk of rolling it further down the hill?” Joa

“It’s possible, so before we do anything rash, I’d suggest we climb down and take a closer look.”

Detective Carpenter and George Winfield set off, with Ernie leading the way and with George slipping and sliding in his wake. I warned him to bring along decent shoes, Joa

“But what about Angie?” De

“Why don’t you tell me what happened?” Joa

“We were up in the meadow, watching the hummingbirds and having a great time, when we started talking. I guess I hurt her feelings, but I didn’t mean to. She took off down the mountain. I haven’t seen her since.”

“Exactly how did you hurt her feelings?”

“You’re a friend of hers,” I locker said. “Does that mean you know about her background?”

Joa