Raymond’s static-distorted voice coming through the speaker, broadcasting into his shoulder mounted radio. “Ma’am, is something the matter?” That transmission was followed by something garbled that Joanna was unable to decipher, followed by Raymond again, “Well, let me take a look.”
Holding her breath, Joanna gripped the microphone even harder and wondered why the hard plastic didn’t simply crumble to pieces in her hand. Suddenly she heard the sound of a scuffle. “Get down! Get down! Hands behind your back.
Then, after what seemed an eternity, Joanna heard Deputy Raymond’s voice once more. “Got her.” He panted jubilantly. “Subject is secured. Repeat: Subject secure. She wasn’t carrying a weapon, and she really does have a flat. Lost the whole tread on her right rear tire. I just finished checking out the RV. It’s full of packing boxes, but there’s no one else inside.”
In the background of Deputy Raymond’s transmission Joanna heard the screeching of a siren announcing the arrival of Tim Lindsey’s patrol car. It was all under control and her officers were safe. Joanna’s voice shook with gratitude and relief when she spoke into the microphone again.
“Okay, Larry. Tell Deputy Raymond good work. Have him put the subject in the back of his patrol car and wait for Frank’s and my arrival. Under no circumstances is he to ask her anything until we arrive, understand?”
“Got it.”
“And tell our trucker friends who’ve been stopping traffic that they can let things start moving again. If possible, I’d like their names, company names, and addresses. I want to be able to write to their bosses and express my appreciation.”
“Will do.”
Joanna put down the microphone, leaned back in the seat, closed her eyes, and let out her breath.
“Way to go, Boss,” Frank said. “Running an operation like that by radio is a little like giving somebody a haircut over the phone, but you made it work. Congrats.”
A few minutes later, Frank turned the Crown Victoria onto I-10 east of Benson. With the emergency over, he had now slowed to the posted legal limit, and the Civvie dawdled along at a mere seventy-five. By the time they made a U-turn across the median, they could see that backed-up traffic from both sides of the freeway was now approaching the scene. Frank and Joanna’s Civvie was the third police vehicle in a clot of shoulder-parked vehicles lined up behind the massive RV.
As soon as Joanna stepped out of the car, she went straight to her two deputies. “Good job,” she told them.
Matt Raymond still seemed a little shaken by the experience. “It could have been a whole lot worse,” he said.
Joanna nodded. “I know,” she said. “Believe me, I know.”
“I haven’t talked to the woman much, but she’s begging us to change her tire and let her drive on into Tucson,” Matt Raymond said. “She claims she’s got a deal to sell the Marathon, but she has to deliver it to the dealer by one o’clock this afternoon. Otherwise, he rescinds his offer to buy.”
“I’ll talk to her,” Joanna said. “She’s under arrest for murder. She’s not in any position to be selling a motor home.”
“I tried to tell her that myself,” Matt said. “I don’t think she was listening.”
Joanna looked up as a speeding eighteen-wheeler blew past in a burst of hot air, followed by a long, unbroken line of other vehicles. “We need to get this mess off the road. It’s not safe for any of us. Is this thing drivable, or are we going to need a tow truck?” she asked, looking down at the mangled flat.
“All we have to do is change the tire,” Matt Raymond replied.
Joanna walked over to the idling Bronco that was Matt Raymond’s marked patrol car. There Irma Sorenson, a white-haired unassuming lady with a pair of thick glasses perched on her nose, sat handcuffed in the backseat. She looked like somebody’s grand-mother, not a cold-blooded killer.
“Mrs. Sorenson?” Joanna said. “I’m Sheriff Brady. Having all these vehicles parked on the shoulder of the freeway is causing a hazard. We need to move them. Would it be all right if one of my deputies changed that tire?”
“Please,” Irma said. “I don’t know where the jack and spare are. I’m sure they’re in one of those locked compartments. The keys are still in the ignition.”
