Devil’s Claw

“What’s up, Sheriff Brady?” the night-shift dispatcher asked.

“Have you logged any nine-one-one calls today from my neighbor, Clayton Rhodes?” Joa

“No. How come?”

“He didn’t show up for work today,” Joa

“Nobody at the moment,” Tica replied. “Deputy Pakin is assigned there, but he just responded to a serious-injury accident on Highway eighty out east of Douglas. Deputy Howell is finishing up with a domestic over in Saint David. I could check and see how long it would take her to get here.”

“Never mind,” Joa

“Keep me posted,” Tica advised. “If you need backup, just call.”

Putting down the phone, Joa

Walking over to Je

Doing an excellent job of feigning being awakened out of a deep sleep, Je

“I need to go check on Mr. Rhodes,” Joa

Making no further pretense of having been asleep, Je

“If it bothers you, I can maybe call someone to come-”

“No, Mom. Don’t. I can stay by myself.”

“You’re sure. I’ll lock the doors when I leave. I probably won’t be gone very long, and you’ll have the dogs-”

“It’s okay, Mom,” Je

“Thanks?” Joa

“For the early birthday present.”

Joa

“For treating me like a grown-up even if I’m not.”

“You’re welcome,” Joa

“Well, go then,” Je

“I’m going,” Joa

“Be careful,” Je

Feeling her throat tighten, Joa

Leaving the room, Joa

In her own bedroom, Joa

Joa

Leaving her shoulder holster with its heavy-duty 19 where it was, Joa

After clambering into her county-owned Blazer, Joa

By now the nearly full moon, high in the sky, cast a silvery glow over the nighttime landscape. That was something Joa

Clayton Rhodes’ house dated from pre-air-conditioning times and had been built into the cleft of Mexican Canyon where it was naturally sheltered during the worst of the Sonora Desert’s afternoon heat. Carefully nurtured cottonwoods had grown up around the house, adding a much-needed layer of summertime shade. As Joa

“Won’t be gettin‘ me another dog, neither,” he had told Joa

And so, in Clayton Rhodes’ yard, there was no welcoming chorus of barking dogs to a

Here, as on High Lonesome Ranch, the yard had been fenced to keep out marauding livestock. Joa

“As in breaking and entering?” Tica asked.

“The man’s in his eighties,” Joa

“I’ve contacted Deputy Howell,” Tica responded. “She’s on her way, but she’s coming from Saint David, so it’s going to take some time for her to get to you.”

Leaving the Blazer idling where it was, Joa

She reached down and took hold of the knob. It turned easily in her hand and the door swung open, squawking noisily on elderly hinges. The house smelled musty and unkempt. Clayton had been a widower for years. Clearly he wasn’t very interested in doing much of what he always considered “women’s work.”

“Clayton,” Joa

No answer. Using her flashlight, Joa