baby” had been replaced by grudging admiration.
“To do what?” Frank asked.
Joanna got behind the wheel and held out her hand for Frank to pass the keys. “Do you have a cell phone signal?” she asked.
“I get it. You want me to run Rob Whipple’s name through the NCIC database? What makes you think he’ll be there?”
“It’s a long shot, but Doc Winfield says our guy wasn’t a first-timer. I’m thinking maybe he’s been caught before.” With that, Joanna shifted the Crown Victoria into gear and backed out of the parking place.
“And where are we going in the meantime?” Frank asked as he picked up the laptop and turned it on.
“Paradise,” she returned. “We’re going to pay a call on our friend Mr. Rob Whipple. You did get his driver’s license info, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
“And his address.”
“That too, but do you think going to see him is such a good idea?” Frank asked. “After all, we don’t really have probable cause to arrest the man, and we sure as hell don’t have a search warrant.”
“We’re not going to arrest him,” Joanna returned. “If he’s our man, he may already have taken off for parts unknown. Or, if he is the killer and he’s still hanging around, showing up for work, and acting as if nothing out of the ordinary has happened, he may be thinking he’s getting away clean. All I want to do is shake him up a little. Put the fear of God in him. Give him a shove in the right direction and see if we can get him to give himself away.”
Frank shook his head. “I still don’t like it,” he said. “How about calling Jaime and Ernie and letting them know what’s up? They ought to be in on this, you know, Joanna. You and I shouldn’t be off doing this all by ourselves.”
“Jaime and Ernie are in Tucson,” she reminded him. “You can call them, but we’re here—a good hour and a half earlier than they can be. We’re going anyway.”
“But why the big hurry?”
“Because I happen to agree with Mr. Hardy back there. He thinks Irma Sorenson is in danger, and so do I, and I’d a whole lot rather look stupid than hang around doing nothing but wringing my hands until it’s too late.”
Joanna paused uncertainly at the entrance to Quartzite East. “Which way’s faster?” she asked. “Right or left?”
“From here, I’d say down the New Mexico side,” Frank told her.
Joanna nodded. “Time for a little mutual aid,” she said, switching on the flashing light. “Before you start dialing up that database, you’d better call somebody over in New Mexico and let them know we’re coming through.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
With the Civvie’s warning lights flashing, Joanna tore east on I-10 and across the state line into New Mexico. By then Frank had alerted the Hidalgo County Sheriff’s Department and let them know what was happening. Once off the interstate and onto an almost deserted Highway 80, Joanna shoved the gas pedal down and let the speedometer hover around ninety.
“Damn,” Frank muttered finally.
“What’s the matter?”
“I finally managed to dial into the NCIC database, but now I’ve lost the signal. That’s the problem out here in the sticks. Cell-site overage is still too spotty. I’ll have to try again when we get a stronger signal.”
“You could always radio in and have Dispatch run it,” Joanna suggested.
Frank was quiet for a moment but reluctant to give up. “I’ll wait for a better signal,” he said.
Joanna understood completely. He didn’t want someone else to run the computer check any more than
