344,” Larry returned. “Molly is convoying with another trucker. They’re going to turn on their hazard lights and stop on the freeway. That should bottle up all the traffic behind them, and it takes care of the westbound roadblock. If I can find someone else to do the same thing at J-6 Road, our people will all be free to deal with the stop itself. City of Benson is closing all exits and entrances to the freeway there. The chief of police in Benson wants to know if we’re putting down the spike strips, or are they?”
“Do we have anyone on the scene yet?”
“Not so far,” Kendrick said. “Where are you and Chief Deputy Montoya?”
Joanna looked up and was amazed to see that they were already out on the broad, flat plain between the Mule Mountains and the hills leading into Tombstone. “Not quite halfway,” she told him.
“I tried Deputy Rojas from Pomerene. He’s up at Hooker Hot Springs investigating some dead livestock. It’ll take him a while to get back down from there. Matt Raymond and Tim Lindsey are on their way from Elfrida and Sierra Vista respectively. Tim should be there first.”
“Okay,” loa4u4;4 said. “Have Matt try to catch up with the subject from behind and keep her in visual contact. Put Matt and Tim in touch directly, so Tim can lay down the strips with just enough time to get back in his car and take cover. And then, in your spare time, call the Double Cs. Tell Detectives Carpenter and Carbajal that we need them both in Benson ASAP.”
Joanna settled back in the seat and listened to the squawking radio as Larry Kendrick relayed her orders to various officers. Meanwhile Frank’s Civvie flew through Tombstone and out onto the straight stretch of newly repaved highway between Tombstone and St. David.
“Sounds like you’ve got things under control,” Frank said.
Joanna shook her head. There were too many variables; too many jurisdictions and people involved; too much opportunity for ordinary citizens to be injured or killed. “We’ll see,” she said.
They were halfway between St. David and Benson when Larry Kendrick’s voice addressed her once again. “Sheriff Brady?”
“Yes.”
“We’ve got a problem. Deputy Raymond reports that the subject is pulling off on the shoulder just west of Exit 318.”
Joanna studied the map. “The Dragoon Exit?” she asked. “That’s right.”
That meant Irma Sorenson was stopping far short of Tim Lindsey and his tire strips. “Why’s she stopping?” Joanna asked.
“Matt’s not sure. No, wait. He says a lone woman has stepped out of the vehicle and is walking back toward the rear. He says it looks like maybe she’s got a flat.”
Joanna took a deep breath. It could be a trap. Irma Sorenson might have noticed the sudden reduction in traffic volume traveling in both directions on the freeway. She might also have noticed the presence of a marked patrol car following her even though Deputy Raymond had been directed to keep his distance. There was no question in Joanna’s mind that Irma Sorenson was capable of murder. What were the chances that she was taking the flat for some reason? On the other hand, it was possible that since the RV had been parked in one place for more than six months, it really did have a ruined tire.
“All right, Larry,” Joanna said, steadying her voice and trying not to think about Matt Raymond’s wife and the five-year-old twin girls who were the light of his life. “Here’s what I want you to do. Tell Matt to drive past the vehicle and see if he can tell if the woman is carrying any kind of weapon. If none is visible, have him put on his lights—the orange ones, not the red—and back up on the shoulder. Have him—”
“Deputy Raymond’s on the radio now,” Larry reported. “I lc says the subject is attempting to flag him down. He doesn’t see any weapon. I’ve directed Deputy Lindsey to leave his position i44 lien-son and back up Deputy Raymond.”
Holding the radio mike clenched tightly in her white-knuckled fist, Joanna looked entreatingly at Frank Montoya. “Can’t you drive any faster than this?” she begged.
Frank merely shook his head. “Not if you want us to get there in one piece,” he said.
Now they heard Deputy
