Outlaw Mountain

Joa

“How’s it going, Fran?”

Dr. Daly gri

“Can’t complain,” she said, blowing a plume of smoke. “Of course, I’m overworked and underpaid, but then what else is new? By the way, what are you doing here? From what the dispatcher told me on the phone, I was under the impression that the victim was found well within Pima County boundaries. Or has Cochise County a

“This is Pima County, all right,” Joa

Fran Daly nodded. “Fair enough,” she said. “Do you have detectives here then?”

“Not yet, but they will be. One of my homicide guys, Detective Carpenter, is on his way from Bisbee even as we speak. For the moment Frank Montoya, my chief deputy, and I are the only ones here. Unfortunately the victim’s son, His Honor Mayor Clete Rogers of Tombstone, is also on his way.”

“What for?”

Joa

“In other words,” Fran said, “the man’s an arrogant son of a bitch.”

“You could say that.” Joa

“Your secret’s safe with me,” Fran said.

Just then a uniformed Pima County deputy emerged from a thick stand of cholla, trotted across a shallow dip, and approached Fran Daly. “Howdy, Dr. Daly. Want me to give you a hand with that?” he asked, nodding toward the equipment case.

“No, thanks, Sergeant Mallory. I’m used to lugging this crap around. I can handle it by myself. Do you happen to know Joa

Claude Mallory was tall, rangy, square-jawed, and thick-necked. He might have been good-looking had it not been for the fact that his eyes were set far too close together. He favored Joa

“We’re not sure who gets this one,” Fran Daly explained in answer to Mallory’s unasked question. “It could be ours; it could be theirs. In any case, Sheriff Brady and her people will be on the scene, and they’re to be allowed the same access as officers from Pima County.”

Mallory nodded. “It’s go

Fran Daly shrugged. “The more the merrier,” she said.

Mallory started away from them. “The body’s over this way. If you’ll both just follow me.”

But Fran Daly was not yet done with her smoke. “How long before that detective of yours gets here, Sheriff Brady?” she asked.

“I sent for him as I was leaving Tombstone,” Joa

Fran nodded. “All right. I’ll go on up to the scene, get set up, and snap a few pictures. I won’t do anything critical, though, until after Carpenter gets here-just as long as he’s not too slow about it. By the time I finish taking photographs, he’ll probably be here. In the meantime, Sergeant Mallory, are you the officer in charge?”

“At the moment. The two detectives are up with the body.”

“According to Sheriff Brady, a man who’s the son of our suspected victim is on his way here from Tombstone. What did you say his name is again, Sheriff Brady?”

“Rogers,” Joa

“Right. Rogers. You got that, Sergeant Mallory? When Cletus Rogers shows up here, you’re not to let him through. I don’t want any civilians blundering through my crime scene. You let Mr. Rogers know that if he’s pla

“Gotcha, Doc,” Mallory agreed. “I’ll handle it.”

“Good.” With that, Fran Daly ground out her cigarette butt on the pavement. Then she picked it up and dropped it into a small rectangular box of the red-and-white Altoid variety. Only when the box was closed and shoved into her hip pocket did she once again heave her equipment case off the ground.

“Now then,” she demanded of Sergeant Mallory. “Where is it we’re going?”

“This way. It’s not far, but the cactus grows so thick you can’t see inside it.”

As Claude Mallory and Fran Daly walked away, Joa

Remembering her mother’s old adage about an ounce of prevention, Joa

She extracted jeans and a worn pair of te

“All right, Sheriff Brady,” he demanded. “Where is she? Over there? In that stand of cactus somewhere?”

Joa

“You can’t go there, Mayor Rogers,” Joa

“You can’t tell me what to do,” Rogers objected. “This isn’t Cochise County. You’ve got no authority here.”

“Yes, I do,” Joa

“How long will that be?”

“No telling.”

“Is it hours, then? Days?” Clete Rogers demanded. “What are we talking about here?”

“As I said, there’s no way to know.”

Another car pulled up and stopped. This one was a cherry-red Chrysler Sebring convertible with an auburn-haired woman at the wheel. She, too, parked without first bothering to move her vehicle entirely out of the path of traffic. She jumped out of the car. Leaving her door ajar, she came striding up to where Joa