opted final for calling the department. 'Who's in?' she asked Kristin
'Nobody. Chief Deputy Montoya expected to be back l now, but the lady he was supposed to get to send to Tucson wouldn't go. He's been stuck at her house all afternoon.'
'And not very happy about it, either, I'll bet,' Joanna surmised. 'Can we raise him on the radio?'
'I can't,' Kristin said, 'but I'm sure Dispatch can.'
'Never mind,' Joanna said. 'I'm already as far as Benson. I can be in Pomerene by the time Dispatch gets us linked together. There are two
'All right. Anything else?'
'Yes. Ask the records clerk to run a check on someone named Ryan Merritt. I don't have a date of birth, but he’s probably around twenty or so.'
'Just here in Cochise County?' Kristin asked. 'Or do you want a statewide check?'
The very fact that Kristin had asked the question was a sign that she was becoming more savvy. In the early days of Joanna's administration, the recently elected sheriff and her newly assigned secretary had been at loggerheads more often than not. Now Joanna sometimes found herself wondering if Kristin Marsten had actually grown that much smarter in the intervening months or if the changes in Kristin were a reflection of changes in Joanna herself.
'I'm glad you asked, Kristin,' Joanna said. 'A statewide check is what I need.'
'Do you have an address?'
'No. He's currently living on the Triple C spread up in Cascabel. That address would be somewhere on Pomerene Road, although I can't give you the exact number. Before that, he most likely lived somewhere else. Try the Phoenix metropolitan area or maybe even Tucson.'
'Do you want me to call you back on this, or can it wait until you get into the office?'
'Call me back,' Joanna said. 'I need the info ASAP.'
Leaving Benson, Joanna drove straight to Sarah Holcomb's house in Pomerene. She found Chief Deputy Montoya dozing in the shade of one of Sarah's towering cottonwoods. Frank might have tried to convince Kristin that he was suffering, but in actual fact, it was clear to Joanna that he was being treated like an honored guest. An old Adirondack chair and matching footstool had been moved from the elderly woman's covered back porch to the shady front yard, along with a small wooden table. On the table sat a metal tray laden with napkins, a tall ice-filled glass, a generous pitcher of iced tea, and a platter of cookies.
Joanna parked the Blazer and went over to where he was sitting. 'Hey, Frank,' she said. 'Wake up. No fair sleeping on the job.'
He came to with a start. 'I wasn't really sleeping,' he said. 'Just resting my eyes.'
'Sure you were. I thought you were supposed to be guarding her. As in making sure nobody comes anywhere near her.'
'I am,' he said. 'Nobody can get past me.'
'I almost did,' Joanna told him. 'And what's the deal with all the cookies and the iced tea? I've interviewed this woman twice so far, and she's never offered me so much as a piece of gum.'
Frank shrugged. 'What can I tell you? Sarah must like me.'
'Did you bring the yearbooks?'
'Yes,' he said. 'We've already been through all of them. We did that over lunch, to no avail. She claims she didn't recognize anybody.'
'Where are they?'
'The yearbooks?'
Joanna nodded.
'In the back of my car,' Frank said. 'If you want to see them, I'll be glad to go get 'em.' He headed for his Crown Victoria, his Civvy, as he affectionately called it.
Through overuse compounded by an error in purchasing, the Cochise County Sheriff's Department was long on Crown Victoria-type cruisers and short on four-wheel-drive vehicles. Because his position as chief for administration called for very little field work, Frank now drove one of the Ford sedans despised by the other deputies. With some money and a little technical know-how, Frank Montoya had managed to turn his departmental Crown Victoria into a credible mobile office.
'Here we are,' he said, putting the books down on the table. 'Eight yearbooks in all. hour from St. David and four from Benson.'
Taking the top book off the Benson pile, Joanna quickly thumbed through it, checking each class listing for Ryan Merritt. 'Are you looking for someone in particular?' Frank asked when she finished thumbing through the first book and started on the second.
'Yes,' she said. 'His name's Ryan Merritt. He's Alton Hosfield's son, Sonja's stepson.'
'If you don't mind a little help,' Frank suggested, 'we can probably
There was only one unchecked yearbook remaining, the last one from St. David, when Joanna's cell phone crowed. As she juggled it out of her purse, Frank made a face.
'You're the sheriff,' he said. 'Couldn't you find a ring that sounds a little more dignified?'
Joanna ignored the gibe. 'Yes,' she said into the phone. 'What do you have for us, Kristin?' Seconds later, she held the phone away from her mouth. 'Don't you have a mobile fax rigged up in your Civvy?'
'Sure do,' he said. 'It's hooked up to a slick little laptop.'
Joanna went back to the phone. 'Yes, Kristin,' she said. 'Go ahead and send it to Chief Deputy Montoya's mobile fax machine. Does it include a mug shot? Great. What about fingerprints? Amen. Send the whole thing. And thanks, Kristin. Good work.'
'Send what whole thing?' Frank Montoya asked as he gathered and restacked the collection of yearbooks.
'Ryan Merritt's rap sheet,' Joanna said. 'It even includes a mug shot.'
'The fax does have a small problem at the moment.'
'What's that?'
'The printer went off-line. I sent it in for repairs. Whatever material Kristin sends will show up on the screen, though. We can look at it there.'
'Look at it nothing,' Joanna said. 'We're going to show it to Sarah Holcomb.'
'Showing a single photo like this isn't going to comply with the montage requirements,' Frank began. 'Shouldn't we-'
'Lives are at stake,' Joanna interrupted. 'Bring it.'
Within two minutes Frank and Joanna were sitting in the front seat of Frank's Crown Victoria, peering through the glaring afternoon light into the dimly lit computer screen.
'There's too much light here,' Frank said. 'We'll have to take it inside to be able to see it.' He unplugged the laptop, folded it under his arm, and carted it out of the car and up the steps onto Sarah Holcomb's front porch. She answered his knock with a charming smile that faded as soon as she caught sight of Joanna.
'Why, Deputy Montoya,' she said, returning her gaze to his face, 'is there something more I can do for you?'
'Yes, Mrs. Holcomb, there is. I have a computer here with a picture I need you to take a look at. If you don't mind our coming in to show it to you, that is. There's too much light outside for you to read the screen.'
'That beats all,' Sarah said. 'Never heard of havin' too much light to read by. Usually it's the other way around. Is this somethin' that's on what they call the Innernet? One of those chat-room kinds of things? Although how people can sit around havin' a chat inside a computer is more'n I can figure.'
'It's a little like the Internet,' Frank allowed, 'only it's not exactly the same thing. May we come in?'
'Sure,' Sarah said. 'You could just as well.'
Frank led the way into the house. Rather than being bullied onto the unsittable sofa, he headed for the dining room table. Sarah followed, brandishing her cane more than leaning on it. 'You're sure this won't scratch the finish or nothin'?' she asked as Frank started to put the laptop down on her highly polished table.
'No,' he said. 'It'll be fine.'
