J. Jance - Rattlesnake Crossing

"So you're saying Trina may still be okay?"

"She may be. Let's hope, anyway. It isn't like she's been out in the boonies in the dead of winter. Then we'd have to worry about hypothermia. It's not cold at all, and currently there is water available."

"But you said they found a body." Crow Woman sounded anxious. "Who's dead, then?"

"We don't have any way of knowing," Joanna answered. "Not yet. That's what we're trying to find out."

"Was this person murdered? Is it a man or a woman?"

"Please," Joanna said. "We're just starting our investigation. What I'm telling you is that the victim is not your sister-in-law. Beyond that, I can't tell you anything more."

Crow Woman wasn't interested in taking no for an answer. "Look," she said, "I have a business to run here. If people are being killed on or near my property, I need to know about it. I have guests to protect. And if one person has been murdered, then that's probably what's happened to Trina as well."

Joanna hesitated, puzzling over exactly how to address Crow Woman. Is Crow her first name and Woman her last? Joanna wondered.

"Ms. Crow Woman," Sheriff Brady said finally, assuming her most official-sounding tone, "please don't leap to any unfounded conclusions. Until Detective Carpenter and I actually visit the crime scene, there's no way for us to know whether or not it's on your property. I can assure you that, as the investigation progresses, you will be kept informed. And as for your sister-in-law, the Search and Rescue team will he going back out first thing in the morning to look for her."

"In the morning," Crow Woman echoed. "What's the muter with them going back out right now? It won't be dark for a while yet."

"We're doing the best we can," Joanna replied gently. "For your sister-in-law and for the dead woman as well. Why don't you just go on back home and let my people and me do our jobs."

She turned away from Crow Woman, reached into the Blazer, and pulled the radio microphone off the hook. She radioed through to Tica Romero at Dispatch.

"Tica," she said, "I need you to reach Chief Deputy Voland or Detective Carbajal back in Pomerene. Tell them that as soon as they finish with the Clyde Philips crime scene, they'll need to bring Dr. Daly up here to Rattlesnake Crossing. Tell Detective Carbajal there's another homicide on tap that we'll need Fran Daly to investigate."

"Does that clear the missing-person case, then?" Tica asked.

Joanna looked back at the black-clad figure of Crow Woman striding away toward the cluster of buildings that made up the core of Rattlesnake Crossing. She wanted to be sure Katrina Berridge's sister-in-law was well beyond hearing distance before she spoke again.

"No," she said with a sigh. "I almost wish it did, but it doesn't. Trina Berridge is still missing. It's somebody else who's dead."

Tica Romero whistled. "What's happening around here?" she demanded. "Two murders in one day? Isn't that some kind of record?"

"It's a record, all right," Joanna answered. It sure as hell is!

While Ernie Carpenter set off to find Mike Wilson, Joanna went to the rear of her Blazer and hauled out the small suitcase she kept there, packed with what she called her "just-in-case clothes"-a Cochise County Sheriff's Department T-shirt, jeans, and hiking boots. Sitting inside the vehicle, she managed to change from her skirt, blazer, and heels into something more appropriate for a crime-scene investigation. Still, looking at the ground-in grime already on the skirt and blazer, she realized the change of wardrobe had come far too late. The damage from climbing in and out of Clyde Philips' crawl space had already been done-a bit like locking the barn door long after the horse was gone.

Joanna was dressed and out of the Blazer when Detective Carpenter returned with Mike Wilson in tow. "Did you get hold of Jaime?" Ernie asked.

She nodded. "According to Dispatch, he's on his way and bringing Dr. Daly with him. We could just as well wait here until they show up. That way we'll have only one caravan going in and out rather than two or three."

"It's getting late," Ernie remarked, glancing at the sun falling low in the west.

"You have lights in the van, don't you?"

Ernie nodded. "That's all right, then," Joanna said. "We'll wait."

And they did. Considering the distance involved, Detective Jaime Carbajal and Dr. Fran Daly arrived at the rendezvous on Rattlesnake Crossing within twenty minutes-far less time than it should have taken. As Dr. Daly and Jaime stepped out of their respective vehicles, Joanna handled the introductions. "So where's the new body?" Fran Daly asked.

"Across the river and up on those cliffs," Mike Wilson told her. He turned around and gave her van a critical once-over. "Is that thing four-wheel drive?"

"No," Fran answered. "Why?"

"Because it's pretty rough terrain between here and there," he said. "And we have to cross the river besides. If I were you, I'd leave the van here and ride with someone else, someone who has all-wheel drive."

That wasn't a suggestion Fran Daly was prepared to accept without an argument. "What about my equipment?" she demanded.

"Depending on how much you have, we could probably load it into one of our vehicles," Ernie offered.

"All right, then," Fran agreed. "I suppose that will have to do."

While she supervised the transfer of necessary equipment, Joanna eased up to Detective Carbajal. "How did it go?" she asked.

Jaime shrugged. "She's into bugs."

"Bugs?"

"'that's right. Especially flies and maggots. She just took a Course in forensic entomology. She thinks she'll be able to use the stage of development of maggots found on the body to help estimate time of death."

"I see," Joanna said, although she wasn't eager for more details. "So when did Clyde Philips die?"

"Beats me," Jaime replied. "If she's figured it out, you don't think she'd bother to tell me, do you? After all, I'm just a lowly detective, and I'm not from Pima County, either. It turns out our guys aren't even good enough to come pick up the body. I offered, but she insisted on calling for a Pima County van to collect it."

"What a surprise," Joanna said. "That way they'll be able to charge us time and mileage for the driver, too. It'll probably cost a fortune."

Moments later, Dr. Daly asked, "We're finally loaded, so who do I ride with?"

Joanna glanced at Jaime Carbajal's face. He'd already spent several long hours with Dr. Daly that afternoon, and it showed. She decided to give the man a break. "Detectives Carpenter and Carbajal can ride together in their van," she said. "You come with me in the Blazer."

"Let's get going, then," Dr. Daly said. "What are we waiting for? The sun's almost down."

"We have lights along," Joanna told her.

Fran Daly grunted in reply, climbed into Joanna's Blazer, and slammed the door.

The three vehicles sorted themselves into a line with Mike Wilson leading the caravan, Joanna behind him, and Ernie and Jaime bringing up the rear. Wilson led them back down the road that wound away from the main buildings at Rattlesnake Crossing. Instead of turning onto Pomerene Road, though, he took them across that and onto an even narrower dirt track that meandered first through a fenced grassy pasture and then into mesquite-tangled river bottom.

Approaching the San Pedro, Joanna grew apprehensive. In the Arizona desert, crossing a monsoon-swollen stream or river can he dangerous, even in a four-wheel-drive vehicle. The last time she remembered seeing the river had been hours earlier, when she had crossed the bridge outside Benson. There, within the confines of fairly narrow banks, the water had been a roaring flood. Here, though, hours later, and in a spot where the banks were half a mile or so wide, the flow had spread out, calmed, and slowed.