Skeleton Canyon

“Call the jail,” Joa

“Wait a minute,” Voland objected. “If what she says is true and we’re dealing with some kind of hostage situation, you can’t possibly bring a civilian along. That’s crazy.”

“You heard what Angie said,” Joa

“But-”

“No buts!” Joa

Voland shook his head, but he said nothing more. Outside the building rain poured down in the kind of downpour Jim Bob Brady would have called “raining pitchforks and hammer handles.” It was only a matter of a few feet from Joa

“Put it on,” Joa

“Do I have to?” Angie asked.

“Yes, you do. It’s the only way you’re going along.” Without another word, Angie began strapping the vest into place while Joa

“What do you mean?” Angie returned. “I already told you what happened.”

“Not all of it,” Joa

“I guess I was wrong about him,” Angie admitted thoughtfully.

“Wrong?” Joa

The rain was falling hard enough that even with the wind-shield wipers working on high Joa

“He did laugh,” Angie replied. “I think now he was really laughing at something else, not me.” She glanced at the speedometer. “You have the siren on. Can’t we go any faster?”

“Not with all the water on the roadway,” Joa

“What’s that?”

“It means you’re driving on the surface of the water instead of on the pavement. That’s how people lose control of their vehicles in rainstorms. No traction.”

“Oh,” Angie Kellogg said.

They were quiet for a minute or two until Joa

“I’m not sure,” Angie said. “It sounded like it. I heard somebody tell De

“Were there any guns in the trailer to begin with?” Joa

“If he did,” Angie answered. “I didn’t see them.”

Struck by the hopelessness of it all, Angie Kellogg’s toughness and strength seemed to give out all at once. Pressing herself into the far corner of the car, she began to cry.

Joa

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

When the speeding Crown Victoria finally reached the eastern outskirts of Douglas on Highway 80, Angie looked around at the sodden desert landscape and shook her head. “This isn’t the way we went Sunday morning,” she said. “It’s how Maria

Joa

Even though the storm seemed to be over and there was water standing along the road, the dips across Geronimo Trail were just begi

Holding her breath each time, Joa

“Sheriff Brady?” The radio squawked to life with the voice of the head dispatcher.

“What is it, Larry?” Joa

“Ernie Carpenter just called in from Willcox. He says to tell you he’s got some good news and some bad news.”

“Give me the good news first.”

“They found Alf Hastings’s Jeep Cherokee parked behind Aaron Meadows’s place just east of Willcox.”

“Great. What’s the bad news, then?”

“Nobody’s home. Aaron Meadows’s Suburban is among the missing, and so are both Meadows and Hastings.”

“Can you patch me through to Detective Carpenter?” Joa

“Sure thing. Hang on.”

Joa

Ernie’s voice came through the radio. “What are you doing, Sheriff Brady?”

“Changing cars, it turns out,” Joa

“But where are you?”

“On our way to the Peloncillos. There’s some problem with De

“The parrot guy?”

“One and the same,” Joa

“Same old same old,” Carpenter replied. “What we’ve done all afternoon-hurry up and wait. Adam York has a guy flying down from Tucson with a search warrant. In the meantime, there’s nothing much to do but hang around here and see what happens. If you need backup, we could probably spare…”

“Don’t even bother,” Joa

“Will do,” Carpenter replied.

“So does this mean Hastings and Meadows are in it together?” she asked.

“Beats me,” the detective returned. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

“Great,” Joa

By the time Joa