Devil’s Claw

“Tell him I’m on my way. And, Ernie?” Joa

“This sounds suspiciously like we’re operating on women’s intuition again,” Ernie said.

“Do you have a problem with that?” Joa

“Not at all,” Ernie Carpenter told her cheerfully. “Whatever works works for me.”

CHAPTER 15

When Joa

I guess they got the name right when they called it Speedway, she thought.

Number 458 was one of those old stucco places that dated from the twenties or thirties. Most of the remaining houses on that stretch of Speedway seemed to come from that same pre-air-conditioning era and had been built along the same lines, with cavernously shaded front porches designed to keep out the worst of the afternoon sun. In the fifties and sixties, most of those old houses had fallen on hard times and decrepitude. Many had been carved up into boardinghouse-style living spaces for students attending the University of Arizona a few miles to the east.

It was possible there had been a similar house on the lot just to the west of number 458. If so, all sign of it had been erased, bulldozed into oblivion to make way for a smoothly paved parking lot that came complete with accents of blooming bright-pink verbena. Joa

Walking past them, Joa

Walking from the lot to the office, Joa

Bathed in shadow from afternoon sun, the magnificent hand-carved mahogany front door with its brass-plated handle contained an oval of etched, leaded glass. The door may not have been part of the house’s original equipment, but the look of it left little doubt that the house and door were full contemporaries, and if the door had been expensive back then, now it was even more so. Stenciled onto the glass in blocky gold letters were the words melanie j. goodson, attorney at law.

Pressing down the old-fashioned thumb latch, Joa

“May I help you?” Behind the reception desk was a mid-twenties woman with a headful of loose auburn hair. She was decked out in suitably serious business attire-blazer, skirt, silk shirt, and heels. If it hadn’t been for the seven or eight pierced earrings decorating both ears and a mouthful of very expensive orthodontia, Joa

“I’m Sheriff Joa

“I don’t remember Ms. Goodson having an appointment scheduled with anyone by that name for today.” While the young woman ran a black-enameled fingernail down the page of a leather-bound appointment calendar to check, Joa

No doubt the receptionist was intimately familiar with her boss’s schedule. Hers was a form question worthy of nothing more than a form answer. “No,” Joa

“So someone has found it then?” a husky female voice asked from an open-doored office. “When will I be able to have it back? I hate driving rentals.”

Joa

“I’m Melanie Goodson,” she said, holding out her hand. “Who are you again?”

“Joa

“Oh, yes. I’ve spoken to one of your deputies.”

“Detective Carbajal?” Joa

“Right. That’s the one. I believe I was supposed to see him this afternoon, but he called in and canceled. Come on in.”

Melanie Goodson led Joa

“You never answered my question,” Melanie said, pouring two glasses of ice water from a cut-crystal pitcher into matching glasses.

“What question?” Joa

“My car. When will I be able to have it back?”

“Probably not for some time. There are bloodstains inside it, Ms. Goodson. My investigators have reason to believe it was used to transport a homicide victim. I have a feeling my crime-scene investigators are going to need to keep it in our secure impound lot for some time. We’ll no doubt need to hang on to it as evidence at least until this case comes to trial.”

“You’re saying whoever killed Sandra did it in my car?”

“I don’t know for sure that’s where the homicide actually took place, but the presence of bloodstains certainly indicates that a seriously wounded individual was in the car. Whether or not that person turns out to be Sandra Ridder remains to be seen.”

Melanie shook her head. “They say no good deed goes unpunished, and it must be true. That’s what I get for picking Sandra Ridder up at the prison gate and bringing her into my own home. Not only did she steal my car the moment my back was turned, she also managed to get herself killed in it. Well, no big deal. Maybe I can get my insurance company to total the damned thing so I can buy a replacement and get on with my life. Once you’ve driven a Lexus, a Caddy doesn’t quite measure up, if you know what I mean.”