“Dispatch has three cars on the way,” she said. “I’ve given them verbal instructions as well.”
Half a mile later, Dolores directed them to the right along a dry creek bed and into a narrow canyon. This time Joanna was the one who got out and lit the flare. The road ahead was rough and steep. “How much farther?” she asked once she was back in the car.
“About another quarter mile,” Dolores answered. “Then there’s a gate.”
Joanna turned to Ernie. “Do you think you can make it?”
“We’ll see.”
Tica’s voice came through on the radio. “It turns out Deputy Raymond is in the area. He’s already turned off onto Triple H Ranch Road. The other two deputies are in Huachuca City and over near Kartchner Caverns. They should arrive soon as well.”
“Good work.”
Several times between there and the gate, the Crown Victoria’s undercarriage scraped across loose boulders and outcrop-pings of rock. Twice, when the creek bed switched back and forth across the road, the Crown Victoria almost mired down in loose sand. Only by maintaining sufficient speed was Ernie able to jolt the vehicle to the far side.
“She’s right, you know,” Ernie grumbled. “Four-wheel drive would be a lot better.”
“This is where I dropped him,” Dolores announced when they reached the gate. Joanna got out to open it, but the track that led beyond the gate was even narrower and rougher than the part they’d just come through. Far below in the distance she heard the faintest sounds of at least two approaching sirens signaling that backup officers were on their way.
Joanna returned to the Crown Victoria. “It looks like we walk from here,” she said to Ernie. “Are you up to it? Your doctor probably wouldn’t call hiking through the desert taking it easy.”
“I can if you can,” he said.
Joanna turned to Dolores Mattias. “You have to stay here in the vehicle.”
“But…”
“Not buts, Mrs. Mattias. We have Kevlar vests. You don’t. It’s for your own safety. You can either give me your word that you’ll stay here, or we lock you in. Which is it?”
“I’ll stay,” Dolores agreed.
“How far is it from here?”
“I don’t know. Joaquin took a shovel with him and went up that path.”
“Did he have a weapon with him?” Joanna asked again.
“Maybe,” Dolores answered. “I don’t know for sure.”
That wasn’t much consolation.
Ernie had gone around to the trunk and retrieved the semiautomatic rifle and twelve-gauge shotgun Joanna kept there. As he handed her the rifle, he stopped short.
“Listen,” he said.
On the far side of the creek, Joanna heard a racket that had to be a fast-moving horse scrabbling over rocks and through the surrounding scrub oak. Joanna and Ernie both ducked for cover behind the Crown Victoria, but the invisible horse kept moving, sending a scatter of rocks down toward the creek bed as it raced by without pausing.
“What if he heads for the gate?” Joanna demanded as the hoofbeats passed out of range. “What if whoever it is goes after Dolores?”
“I’ll go,” Ernie said and was gone.
Alone now, Joanna crept forward. Fifty yards or so beyond the gate the path took a sharp right turn. Another fifty yards beyond that, Joanna caught sight of the charred remains of a crumbling rustic cabin nestled in a small clearing. Winded, she took cover behind a nearby tree. Struggling to steady her breath, she studied the terrain and saw no sign of movement anywhere.
Then, on the far edge of the clearing, something glinting in the sun caught her attention. Sticking to the tree line, Joanna moved closer until she was able to see that sunlight was reflecting off the business end of a shovel that lay to one side of a small mound of freshly dug dirt and what looked like an earth-crusted fruit crate.
Behind Joanna, one of the sirens sputtered to silence. That meant Deputy Raymond must have reached the gate and help was near at hand.
Then she heard it-a low moan that seemed to come from somewhere near the mound of dirt.
“Who is it?” she demanded. “Where are you?”
“Help me,” a weak voice replied. “I’ve been shot.”
Joanna scurried forward. She skirted the box, the mound of dirt, and a small hole. A man lay facedown in the freshly turned dirt of a larger hole, with blood seeping across the back of his denim shirt. A few shovels of dirt had been piled on top of his legs-not enough to bury him alive, but enough to start the job.
“Mr. Mattias?” Joanna asked. “It’s Sheriff Brady. I know I’m not strong enough to get you out of there by myself. I’ve got to go get help.”
“No,” he pleaded. “Don’t go. Stay here with me. It’s too late for help.”
“But…”
“No,” he wheezed. “Someone has to hear this so people know what happened. I was digging them up. It’s the best I could do. At least now they’ll have a decent burial. I’m so sorry.”
Joanna looked at the small dirt-covered box. It looked much too small to be a coffin, but that’s what it was. “Aileen’s baby?” she asked quietly.
“She made me help her,” he managed. “She said if I didn’t, she’d tell her husband about us.”
“Ruth, you mean?”
Joaquin tried to raise himself up out of the dirt, but the effort was too much. He fell back into the musty earth, coughing and gasping.
“Ruth,” he managed. “Ruth and Rory She wanted to get rid of Aileen’s baby. I didn’t know about him until it happened and he was helping her. By then it was too late. Tell Dolores… Tell Dolores…”
“Tell Dolores what?” Joanna implored. “Stay with me, Joaquin. Stay with me.”
She heard the sound of a surging engine as a vehicle made its way up the rough dirt track. She turned to see a departmental Yukon materialize on the far side of the clearing. Seconds later, Deputy Matt Raymond pounded up to Joanna, with Ernie hurrying after him.
“Sheriff Brady, what do you…?”
She pointed at the injured man’s prone body. “See if you can lift him out of there,” she said. “Ernie, call for an ambulance.”
Agilely Deputy Raymond dropped into the hole, placing his feet on either side of the injured man, but just then Joaquin Mattias exhaled a single ragged breath.
“It’s too late for an ambulance, Sheriff Brady,” Deputy Raymond said. “I’m pretty sure he’s gone.”
“Leave him then,” Ernie urged. “We’ll come back later. The guy on the horse made it through the gate before I ever got there. He was riding hell-bent-for-leather and didn’t even see Dolores sitting in the car.”
“Rory Markham?” Joanna asked.
“Probably,” Ernie returned. “I diverted the other units,” he added. “I sent them to the house rather than having them come here.”
“All right,” Joanna agreed. “Let’s go.”
Leaving Joaquin’s body where it was, the three officers raced back across the clearing. Joanna and Deputy Raymond climbed into the front of the Yukon while Ernie clambered into the back.
Halfway to the gate, they met Dolores Mattias lurching up the path on foot. When Deputy Raymond stopped the Yukon, Joanna was the first one out.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Mattias,” she said, taking the distraught woman by the arm. “You can’t go there.”
Dolores shook off Joanna’s hand. “My husband,” she said. “Where’s my husband?”
By then, Ernie, too, was at the woman’s side. “Like Sheriff Brady said, Mrs. Mattias, you can’t go there. It’s a crime scene.”
“A crime scene?” she repeated. “What kind of crime scene?”
“I hate to tell you this,” Joanna said softly. “It’s a homicide scene. Your husband is dead, Mrs. Mattias. You must come with us. We need to catch the man who did this.”
