Outlaw Mountain

“Going back to you and Clete Rogers. Would you say the two of you were close friends?”

“No. Clete was a good guy, and he was nice to Alice-a lot nicer than Susan and Ross. But no, we weren’t really close.”

“Still, though, since Clete was really your first point of contact in Tombstone, mightn’t someone think you were good friends? If someone came to town looking for you, might they assume that of all the people in town, Clete Rogers would know where you’d gone off to?”

Joa

“The only other possibility would be Ross Jenkins,” Joa

After a long moment Jonathan Becker nodded thoughtfully. “They’d do it in a minute,” he said. “They swore they’d get to me, and they probably will. As soon as I knew Alice was missing, I was afraid it was them. That’s why I took off. But how did you find me?”

“Your prints,” Joa

“The Witness Protection people said they had pulled my prints, but still I worried about that. That’s the reason I tried to wipe down everything in the house. Where did you find them, at Alice’s?”

“No, at Outlaw Mountain,” Joa

“Who’s he?”

“A phony detective who called my AFIS tech claiming to be a North Las Vegas detective. He called within minutes of her getting the hit on your prints when the regular clerk had already told her you were dead. It was enough to arouse suspicion, especially since Detective Garfield doesn’t exist and the phone call placed to my tech came from a North Las Vegas pay phone and not a police department.”

Behind them in the chapel, the man from the lobby cleared his throat. “Excuse me,” he said. “The visitation is over. I really do need to lock up now.”

“Fine,” Joa

“I’m sorry I’ve caused so much trouble,” Jonathan Becker said. “I guess I’ll just head on down the road. Although there doesn’t seem to be much point. It won’t matter where I go. They’ll just track me down again.”

He sounded so beaten-so defeated and alone-that Joa

Becker frowned. “What do you mean?”

“What about if we lay a trap for them, tomorrow, at Alice’s funeral?”

“How?”

“I’m not sure. I’d have to check with some friends of mine, including Adam York, the local agent in charge at the DEA. I’m sure he could point us in the right direction.”

“I don’t know…”

“Excuse me,” the man from the funeral home insisted. “I really must close up now.”

“Come on,” Joa

“Do you think it would work?” Becker asked once they were outside the mortuary.

Joa

“It might,” she said, “but it could also be very dangerous. We’d need to have you in body armor, of course. And we’d have the whole funeral laced with plainclothes officers.”

Becker shook his head. “Even if we succeed-even if we catch whoever they’ve sent this time-who’s to say they won’t try again? They’ll just turn around and send someone else.”

“Maybe not,” Joa

A long silence followed as Jonathan Becker seemed to consider Joa

“Come on, then.”

“Where are we going?”

“Back to my office at the Justice Complex. I need to make some calls. Where’s your car?”

“I ditched it. It was too distinctive. I drove it into a wash out east of town, right along the border. I thought maybe I could trick people into believing that I’d crossed the line into Old Mexico. All I have left is this.” Becker held up a small single suitcase Joa

Joa

Leading the way, Joa

Concerned but unwilling to show it, Joa

Had Joa

“Don’t turn around, Mr. Becker,” she said evenly, “but someone is following us. I’m going to call for backup. As soon as we have another car or two to make a squeeze play, I’m going to pull over and try to trap this guy. When I do, you’re to hit the floor and stay there. Is that clear?”

“Yes.”

Calling into Dispatch, Joa

“What about Douglas cops, then?” Joa

Two minutes later, just after Joa

Joa

“Here he is, Sheriff Brady,” one of the Douglas cops a

“I’ll say!”

Joa

“I was following you,” he said sheepishly. “I was worried. I wanted to make sure you were all right.”

“You know this guy?” one of the Douglas officers asked. “Unfortunately, yes,” Joa