Skeleton Canyon

As they drove past the Suburban, seconds before the Blazer roared into the water, Joa

“Sheriff Brady,” Larry Kendrick insisted urgently. “Come in, please. What’s going on?”

“Call Ernie back,” Joa

Joa

“It’s possible they’ve taken a hostage,” she added into the radio. “The name of the hostage is De

Joa

Without taking his eyes off the road, Dick shook his head. “I’m not sure. Probably at the Mexican border, if not before.”

“And how far are we from the line?”

“Thirty miles or so. Maybe less. In a Hummer, though, it’s not going to matter if the road ends or not. He’ll be able to go wherever he damned well pleases.”

Nodding, Joa

It took several bone-jarring minutes. Twice during the wait Dick Voland managed to bring the Hummer briefly into view. “Can you tell how many people are in there?” Joa

Voland shook his head. “There’s too much mud on the windows. I can’t see a thing.”

“Sheriff Brady? Adam York here. What’s up?”

“How’d you get that search warrant from Tucson to Willcox so fast?” Joa

“In a helicopter.”

“Where is it right now?”

“The chopper? Getting ready to head back to Tucson. Why?”

“I need it,” Joa

“I know we have a mutual aid agreement, but-”

“Mutual aid nothing!” Joa

“Damn!” Adam York muttered. “Do you want us to call for other backup?”

“You can call all you want, but I believe you two are it,” Joa

“Hang in there, then,” Adam York told her. “Ernie and I are on our way. We’ll be there as soon as we can.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Following the speeding Hummer, Dick Voland’s Blazer rumbled south. After winding past the crumbling remains of what had once been an adobe ranch house, the road deteriorated to little more than a rutted cow path that led back up into the Peloncillos, heading from there on down into the Guadalupe Mountains and the Baker Canyon Wilderness Area.

“If he decides to really go off-roading on us, we’re screwed,” Voland told her. “I’ve heard those Hummers can handle a sixty percent grade if need be, and he’s got at least eight more inches of ground clearance than I do. In any kind of rough terrain, I don’t think the Blazer can keep up.”

Sitting in the rider’s side, Joa

Dick Voland wasn’t all that easy to work with at times, but right then she was glad to have him. She was especially thankful for his more than capable driving. “If the driving had been left up to me,” she said, “the guy probably would have lost us a long time ago. In the meantime, all we have to do is keep him in sight long enough for the helicopter to show.”

“If it shows,” Voland muttered. “When it comes to calling for reinforcements, I don’t have much faith in the feds.”

Up to a point, Joa

“Don’t worry,” Joa

“If you ask me, that sounds like the tail wagging the dog,” Voland grumbled.

Despite the seriousness of the moment, despite the fact that they were even then in a hot pursuit chase with lives hanging in the balance, Joa

“What’s so fu

His question sobered her, made her recognize what was most likely something close to stress-induced hysterics.

“Nothing,” she said finally. “This job is turning me into a total pragmatist. I’m in favor of what works-whatever that may be.”

In the space of little more than a mile, the relatively flat desert gave way to foothills and a mile after that to genuine mountains. The twisting trail seemed more appropriate for mountain goats than it did for vehicular travel. Part of the time, Joa

“What if they make it to Mexico before we catch them?” Joa

“Then we get Frank Montoya to see what kind of a peace treaty he can negotiate with the federales down in Sonora so we can get them to track the crooks down and ship them back.”

They traveled in silence for a little while before Joa

After all, Joa

By the time she finished with the radio, they had left the streambed far below and were climbing up and out of yet another canyon. In the process, they crossed two broken fence lines. There were padlocked gates on each of them designed to keep out unauthorized interlopers. The driver of the Hummer had ignored the No Trespassing signs and had circumvented the locks by simply plowing through the barbed wire, popping the strands and knocking out fenceposts. Since the fences were already down anyway, Dick Voland followed suit.