Devil’s Claw

“You’ll find it,” Catherine said sadly. With that she leaned back against the couch and covered her eyes with one hand. After a full minute of silence she added in a hoarse whisper, “I can’t do this again. I just can’t.”

“Do what?” Joa

“Go through all this.” Catherine took her hand away from her face. The sorrowful eyes she focused on Joa

“No,” Joa

“I thought so,” Catherine Yates said. “Go away. Leave me alone.”

“But we’ll need to make arrangements to have you come to Bisbee and do an official identification. My detectives will need to talk to you…”

“Tomorrow will be time enough for that,” Catherine Yates replied. “Right now, all I want is to be left alone!”

“You’re sure you’ll be all right?” Joa

“I won’t be all right,” Catherine said. “I’ve lost my daughter, and my granddaughter, too. I’m sure I’ll never be all right again. But I’m a tough old bird, and I’ll live. So go now, please.”

Joa

“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Yates. Really I am.”

Catherine nodded. “I know,” she croaked brokenly. “So am I.”

CHAPTER 8

“It’s interesting that Catherine Yates immediately came to almost the same conclusion we did,” Frank said, as they started back toward Joa

“It’s not interesting,” she countered. “It’s sad. With all the UDA debris there in the culvert, we could be totally off-base even suggesting it. Still, Catherine knows Lucy Ridder better than anyone else in the world-including Lucy’s own mother. If Catherine thinks her granddaughter is capable of murder, then the rest of us had better pay attention. Call Mike Wilson and cancel that Search and Rescue call for tomorrow morning. We’re not going to send an unarmed S and R team out looking for someone whose own grandmother thinks she could be armed and dangerous.”

“You’re just going to wait for her to turn up then?” Frank asked.

“No,” Joa

Terry Gregovich and his eighty-five-pound German shepherd Spike constituted the Cochise County Sheriff Department’s first-ever K-9 team. Both man and dog were relative new-hires. Terry, a Gulf War veteran, had come over from Search and Rescue. With the help of drug-enforcement monies, Spike had been purchased directly from a breeder who specialized in police dogs. After months of training and working together, Spike and Terry had evolved into an inseparable and valuable team. Six weeks earlier, a Phoenix-area K-9 dog had been shot to death by a pair of fleeing bank robbers. In the aftermath of that incident, Joa

“Do you want them to start looking tonight?” Frank asked.

Joa

“Are you going to go for a search warrant?”

“With what?”

“Good question,” Frank said.

Just then a call came in over the radio. “What’s up, Larry?” Joa

“Detective Carbajal called in a few minutes ago. He wants you back up at the entrance to Cochise Stronghold pronto. He says he’s found something but he isn’t sure what.”

Frank flipped on both lights and siren. As he floorboarded the gas pedal, the rough surface of the road seemed to smooth out. Joa

“What’s up, Detective Carbajal?” Joa

Jaime rose to meet her. “After what Deputy Pakin told us, I decided to come up here and take a look around. Over there are signs of what appears to be a serious struggle, including what looks to me like blood spatter.” He pointed to a spot just to the right of the sign where a ten-foot-square area had been marked off with a border of yellow tape. “We’ll be able to tell more tomorrow in the daylight. In the meantime, take a look at this.”

He held up a bag that contained what looked like a small plastic soup bowl. Even through the glassine bag, Joa

“What’s this?” Joa

“I don’t think so,” Jaime replied. “Remember, Deputy Pakin’s witness said the woman he saw was messing around with the rocks at the base of the sign, so I decided to come check. The cover was loose inside the hole, but the bowl itself was embedded in the dirt at the bottom of the hole.”

Joa

“I tried selling Tupperware years ago, when Andy and I were first married,” she told her astonished deputies. “The stuff’s supposed to be airtight, waterproof, and capable of lasting forever. This looks as though it’s been here for a long time. What’s in it?”

“Nothing now,” Jaime replied. “It was empty when I found it, but I’ll bet it wasn’t empty when the woman in the white car came looking for it.”

Joa

“Assuming Sandra Ridder is the one who hid it, that would mean the bowl has been here for eight years at least,” Joa

“Whatever it was, it wasn’t very big,” Frank offered.

Joa

Jaime consulted his notes. “Mr. Pete Naujokas of Estes Park, Colorado,” he said. “And yes, as far as I know, he’s still up there. Third RV spot on the right inside the campground. But how can he possibly identify her?”

Frank held up a piece of paper. “The night clerk faxed me a copy of Sandra Ridder’s mug shot.”

Jaime laughed. “Frank Montoya’s trusty mobile office strikes again.”

Frank’s technological additions to his Crown Victoria had been the topic of much good-natured ribbing both inside and outside the department. But at times like these, it was easy for Frank to rib back.