Dead to Rights

While Joa

As Joa

“Thanks,” Joa

Dr. Wade shrugged. “Who knows?” he said. “You never can tell. How many times is it now?”

“‘Three so far.”

“It sounds to me as if Tigger and that porcupine have a grudge match going. There’s always a chance the porcupine will decide to move along. Barring that, I don’t think any-thing short of a baseball bat is going to get Tigger to leave him alone. He’s convinced he’s going to win.”

Joa

On the way back out to the ranch, Je

“What do you mean?”

“You should have seen him when I gave him his carrot. He seemed so sad.”

Joa

“Buy a horse?” Joa

“Don’t you remember?” Je

“Someday maybe,” Joa

After that, Je

Just like the two of us, Joa

By eight, Je

Joa

The two of them could have been Mutt and Jeff. Voland was big and burly and loud-prone to throwing his considerable weight around. Frank was slight and quiet, tending more to negotiation than to barking orders. Their only common physical trait came from seriously receding hairlines.

From day one, relations between the two chief deputies had been as much at odds as their physical characteristics. “Oil and water” was the best way to describe it. Voland’s long history with the department made him the consummate insider. It usually meant he stood firmly behind doing things the way they had always been done. Montoya, a former Willcox City Marshal, had been one of the two men who had run against Joa

At the time of the appointment, Joa

On this particular morning, as Voland and Montoya took their usual places at the conference table in Joa

“So what’s been happening?” Joa

“Five U.D.A.’s (undocumented aliens) picked up between Douglas and Bisbee along Border Road and two more just outside Tombstone on Highway 80. Turned them over to the Border Patrol. Two drunk drivers. One domestic. A single-vehicle, alcohol-related rollover just south of Elfrida. That’s about it. Pretty quiet, even for a Tuesday.”

“Anything on the Buckwalter case?” Joa

“According to Ernie, Hal Morgan’s still in the Copper Queen Hospital. They’re treating him for smoke inhalation and a skull fracture. I’ve posted round-the-clock guards out-side his room.”

“Why?” Joa

“Try telling that to Bucky Buckwalter,” Dick said, leaning back and drumming his fingers impatiently on the arm of his chair. “Once a cop goes haywire, there’s no telling what he might do.”

Joa

“I’ve been trying to tell Mr. Voland what I think all morning. I’ve been attempting to explain to him the grim realities of our budget meeting with the board of supervisors yesterday. Any overtime we pay in January is going to have a direct bearing on our ability to cover shifts come the end of the year.”

“Budgets, smudgets,” Voland sneered. “I know those guys. They’re always dishing out this belt-tightening crap, but when push comes to shove-when public safety is on the line-they always cave. One way or another, they manage to find the money.”

“Let’s not get off on the budget problems right this minute,” Joa

“Because he’s already up at the coroner’s office,” Voland answered. “Winfield has another autopsy scheduled for today-the stiff from Sunizona that we found yesterday.” Voland paused long enough to consult his notes. “The dead guy’s name is Reed Carruthers, by the way. According to Ernie, unless Winfield finds something unforeseen in the autopsy, it’s not a case to concern us. Natural causes rather than a homicide. But at ninety-three, when a guy takes off walking in the middle of a January night with no coat or jacket, you’ve gotta say it’s old age plain and simple.”

Voland looked up. When no comments were forthcoming from either Joa

“Wait a minute,” Joa

“That’s right. The initial police report said that Carruthers tell off a fence and hit his head on a rock. According to Ernie, that’s pretty much what happened. I’m sure once Dr. Winfield finishes the autopsy, he’ll be able to give us a more definitive answer. As soon as he’s done with Carruthers, he’ll be moving right on to Bucky Buckwalter.”