Rattlesnake Crossing

'What happened to what guy?'

'To Danny Berridge.'

'You mean you know him?'

'I don't know him per se, but I know of him. He’s a former Indy driver. He won several races. Placed second or maybe third at Indy one year. Was named Rookie of the Year. The next year during the Indy 500, he wiped out one of the rack people-one of the safety workers. He walked away from the wreck and the track. That was the last I ever heard of him until I read about him in this morning's paper. At least I'm assuming it's the same guy. How many Daniel Berridges could there be?'

“The article didn't actually identify him as the same guy?”

'No, but 1 just assumed. He's evidently had a hell of a life, and now with his wife turning up dead…'

Joanna covered her lips with a finger. 'We probably shouldn't talk about this right now. We don't have a positive ID and nobody's notified the next of kin. That's where I'm going right now-to meet up with the detectives and then go talk to the husband.'

'I can see why you're in a hurry,' Butch said, picking up his fork. 'You'd better go ahead and eat before it gets cold. You need to keep up your strength.'

Joanna's heaping platter of scrambled eggs mixed with hot, spicy chorizo came with a helping of cheese- smothered refried beans, a dish of Daisy's eye-watering salsa, and a tortilla warmer stacked full of tiny, homemade flour tortillas fresh from the grill in the kitchen. Butch helped himself to one, slathered it with butter, and took a bite. As soon as he did, a beatific smile spread across his features.

'I didn't know it was possible to find a place that still served homemade tortillas.'

Joanna took one herself. 'You have to go pretty far out into the boondocks before that happens,' she said. For several moments they ate in silence. 'If it wasn't in the paper, how did you know all this about Daniel Berridge?' she asked.

'Didn't I tell you?' Butch returned. 'I'm a big race-car fan.”

No, Joanna thought, you didn't tell me. There were obviously any number of things she didn't know about Frederick 'Butch' Dixon. Even so, she knew that she still owed him an apology.

'Look,' she said, 'I really am sorry about standing you up last night. As soon as the call came in and I knew it was going to be a problem, I tried calling, but your phone-'

'Good morning, Joanna,' Marliss Shackleford said, sauntering up to the table, coffee cup in hand. 'I hope you'll excuse the interruption, but I had to know if you've heard anything about Esther's surgery.'

Joanna had no intention of pardoning the interruption, but there was no way of ignoring it, either. Butch Dixon looked up quickly and caught her eye. 'Jeff and Marianne's little girl?' he asked.

Joanna nodded. 'Esther's been on a transplant waiting list almost as long as she's been here. Because of her ethnic background, the doctors hadn't held out much hope of finding a tissue match, but now they have one. The hospital called last night and told them a heart just became available. The surgeons are expecting to do the transplant sometime today. This morning, most likely.'

'So who's taking care of poor little Ruth?' Marliss asked.

'Angie Kellogg,' Joanna said.

Marliss Shackleford's face twisted into a disapproving frown. 'Not that girl who-'

Joanna cut Marliss off in mid-sentence. 'Angie is a friend of Marianne's, and she's also a friend of mine. She also happens to be a very capable baby-sitter. Ruth adores her.'

Marliss wasn't easily dissuaded. 'You'd think that, as a minister and in a situation like this, Marianne would call on someone…' The steely-eyed look Joanna leveled in her direction caused Marliss to pause and rethink what she was about to soy. 'Well, on someone from church, for example. I’m sure any number of the ladies from the church would have been willing'

'The call come through in the middle of the night,' Joanna told her. 'I'm sure most of the ladies from church- you included -were all sound asleep in your neat little beds. Angie, on the other hand, was still at work and wide awake.'

Dismissing Marliss, Joanna turned her attention to her plate, stabbing her fork deep into the steaming mound of scrambled eggs and sausage. Rather than taking the hint and leaving, Marliss stood her ground and cast around for a more rewarding topic of discussion. In the process, her eyes settled greedily on Butch Dixon's smoothly clean- shaven head. 'You're not someone from around town, are you?' she said to him. 'But I seem to remember that we've met before.'

'That's right,' Butch agreed mildly, putting down his fork and holding out his hand. 'You're a newspaper reporter, I believe. Frederick Dixon's the name, and yes, we did meet before. At Joanna's mother's wedding reception.'

'Of course.' Marliss summoned her sweetest smile. 'That's right. You're Joanna's friend. Down from Phoenix, are you?'

'Peoria, actually. But Phoenix is close enough. All those towns seem to run together.'

'What brings you down our way?'

Over another forkful of egg, Joanna sought Butch's eyes. 'There was no way to say aloud what was going through her mind. This woman is a malevolent witch. Anything you say to her is going to wind up in print.

Unspoken or not, Butch must somehow have gotten the message. He gave Marliss an engaging grin. 'Just passing through,' he said. 'My business is up in the Valley of the Sun, and we have a little too much of that this time of year-sun, not business. So it's a good time for me to get out of town for some well deserved R and R.'

'I see,' Marliss said. 'What kind of business are you in?'

Joanna groaned inwardly. Oh, great, she thought. Next he's going to tell her he owns a bar up there. Just wait until the ladies from church get wind of all the latest. An ex-prostitute is baby-sitting Ruth Maculyea-Daniels and Sheriff Joanna Brady is hanging out with a guy who rides a motorcycle and owns a bar!

'Hospitality,' Butch replied blandly.

Joanna almost choked with relief. Meanwhile, Marliss sidled closer to Butch's side of the table. 'Really. So are you down here checking out how Bisbee does in that department?' The question was asked with one eyebrow arched meaningfully in Joanna's direction. 'Hospitality, I mean.'

'It's great,' he said. 'I'm staying up at the Copper Queen this time. It seems to be quite satisfactory.'

Visibly disappointed, Marliss turned back to Joanna. 'Any inside scoops about what's going on up in Pomerene?'

Sure, Marliss. We've just figured out that we've got a serial killer loose in Cochise County, and I'm going to give you an exclusive on it.

'Not at this time,' Joanna said. She finished the last morsel of chorizo and eggs. Something was making her nose run, and she wasn't sure if the heat came from the sausage or from the salsa. Taking one remaining tortilla from the warmer, she buttered it and then waved down Daisy.

'Any chance of getting a cup of coffee to go?'

'Coming right up.'

“And the bill, please, too.'

'Don’t bother with that,' Butch said. 'I'm buying.'

'Well,' Marliss said, finally accepting the fact that the conversation was over, 'I guess I'll be going.' She headed back to hex own table.

And not a moment too soon, Joanna thought, watching her go.

“Can I see you tonight?' Butch asked.

Joanna shook her head. She hadn't told Marliss about the serial-killer part, and she wasn't going to tell Butch, either. 'I can't promise, what with everything going on at work and with Esther in the hospital in Tucson. Even if I did say yes, I couldn't give you any guarantees about what time I'd finish up. That's one of the reasons I feel so rotten about last night. You were stuck out there on the porch by yourself for all that time.'

'After living up around Phoenix, I thought it was gloriously quiet. Believe me, I enjoyed every minute of it. I especially got a kick out of watching that storm off to the east, the one that put on such a light show and then