J. Jance - Rattlesnake Crossing

Joanna cut Marliss off in mid-sentence. "Angie is a friend of Marianne's, and she's also a friend of mine. She also happens to be a very capable baby-sitter. Ruth adores her."

Marliss wasn't easily dissuaded. "You'd think that, as a minister and in a situation like this, Marianne would call on someone…" The steely-eyed look Joanna leveled in her direction caused Marliss to pause and rethink what she was about to soy. "Well, on someone from church, for example. I’m sure any number of the ladies from the church would have been willing"

"The call come through in the middle of the night," Joanna told her. "I'm sure most of the ladies from church-you included -were all sound asleep in your neat little beds. Angie, on the other hand, was still at work and wide awake."

Dismissing Marliss, Joanna turned her attention to her plate, stabbing her fork deep into the steaming mound of scrambled eggs and sausage. Rather than taking the hint and leaving, Marliss stood her ground and cast around for a more rewarding topic of discussion. In the process, her eyes settled greedily on Butch Dixon's smoothly clean-shaven head. "You're not someone from around town, are you?" she said to him. "But I seem to remember that we've met before."

"That's right," Butch agreed mildly, putting down his fork and holding out his hand. "You're a newspaper reporter, I believe. Frederick Dixon's the name, and yes, we did meet before. At Joanna's mother's wedding reception."

"Of course." Marliss summoned her sweetest smile. "That's right. You're Joanna's friend. Down from Phoenix, are you ?"

"Peoria, actually. But Phoenix is close enough. All those towns seem to run together."

"What brings you down our way?"

Over another forkful of egg, Joanna sought Butch's eyes. 'There was no way to say aloud what was going through her mind. This woman is a malevolent witch. Anything you say to her is going to wind up in print.

Unspoken or not, Butch must somehow have gotten the message. He gave Marliss an engaging grin. "Just passing through," he said. "My business is up in the Valley of the Sun, and we have a little too much of that this time of year-sun, not business. So it's a good time for me to get out of town for some well deserved R and R."

"I see," Marliss said. "What kind of business are you in?"

Joanna groaned inwardly. Oh, great, she thought. Next he's going to tell her he owns a bar up there. Just wait until the ladies from church get wind of all the latest. An ex-prostitute is baby-sitting Ruth Maculyea-Daniels and Sheriff Joanna Brady is hanging out with a guy who rides a motorcycle and owns a bar!

"Hospitality," Butch replied blandly.

Joanna almost choked with relief. Meanwhile, Marliss sidled closer to Butch's side of the table. "Really. So are you down here checking out how Bisbee does in that department?" The question was asked with one eyebrow arched meaningfully in Joanna's direction. "Hospitality, I mean."

"It's great," he said. "I'm staying up at the Copper Queen this time. It seems to be quite satisfactory."

Visibly disappointed, Marliss turned back to Joanna. "Any inside scoops about what's going on up in Pomerene?"

Sure, Marliss. We've just figured out that we've got a serial killer loose in Cochise County, and I'm going to give you an exclusive on it.

"Not at this time," Joanna said. She finished the last morsel of chorizo and eggs. Something was making her nose run, and she wasn't sure if the heat came from the sausage or from the salsa. Taking one remaining tortilla from the warmer, she buttered it and then waved down Daisy.

"Any chance of getting a cup of coffee to go?"

"Coming right up."

“And the bill, please, too."

"Don’t bother with that," Butch said. "I'm buying."

"Well," Marliss said, finally accepting the fact that the conversation was over, "I guess I'll be going." She headed back to hex own table.

And not a moment too soon, Joanna thought, watching her go.

“Can I see you tonight?" Butch asked.

Joanna shook her head. She hadn't told Marliss about the serial-killer part, and she wasn't going to tell Butch, either. "I can't promise, what with everything going on at work and with Esther in the hospital in Tucson. Even if I did say yes, I couldn't give you any guarantees about what time I'd finish up. That's one of the reasons I feel so rotten about last night. You were stuck out there on the porch by yourself for all that time."

"After living up around Phoenix, I thought it was gloriously quiet. Believe me, I enjoyed every minute of it. I especially got a kick out of watching that storm off to the east, the one that put on such a light show and then never let loose with a smidgen of rain. 'Full of sound and fury' and all that jazz."

Daisy dropped off both a traveler coffee cup and the bill.

Butch snagged the bill away before Joanna could touch it.

"So how about it?" he added, not taking no for an answer. "How about if I show up at your house about the same time I did yesterday-say seven or so. And when you get home, we'll see what time it is and decide what to do then."

She wanted to say no, but he had come all that way and would be here for just a couple of days. It was only natural that he wanted to spend time with her. "All right," she agreed. “But if you come out to the house, don't wait on the porch. There's a key hidden in the grass. Use it to let yourself in. That way, if I get hung up, at least I'll able to let you know what's going on."

"A key hidden outside?" Butch asked. "Are you sure that's safe?"

Joanna laughed. "It's in the grass just to the right of the front-porch step, hidden under a plastic dog turd-a very realistic-looking plastic dog turd. Believe me, with Sadie and Tigger around, nobody's going to suspect that dark brown pile lying there in the grass isn't the real McCoy."

"I suppose not," Butch said. "Come to think of it, maybe I'll double-check before I pick it up."

Finishing the last of her orange juice, Joanna stood up. "Sorry to have to eat and run like this."

He waved her away. "It's fine," he said. "But if you don't mind, I'm going to hang around and drink my last cup of coffee here. I'd take one with me but coffee and motorcycles don't necessarily go together."

Grabbing both her purse and the Styrofoam cup, Joanna dashed toward the door. She was in the Blazer and headed uptown when she realized Butch Dixon hadn't told the truth to Marliss Shackleford. He had said that his business was up in Phoenix. But the phone to the Roundhouse Bar and Grill had been disconnected. His business used to be in Phoenix, Joanna thought. But it isn't anymore.

By the time she was up over the Divide, however, she had stopped thinking about Butch and was back to worrying about the case. Picking up the radio, she asked Dispatch to put her through to Detective Carbajal.

"What's happening?" she asked.

"I've been on the horn to Maricopa County," he told her. "According to the sheriff's office up there, we've got a possible."

"A case with the same MO?"

"Unfortunately, yes. It's old-from two years ago-and it's still open. A fourteen-year-old named Rebecca Flowers was found up near Lake Pleasant north of Sun City. Shot first and then… well, you know the rest."

"No leads?"

"None so tar. And my guess is nobody looked very hard. Rebecca was a street kid, a drugged-up runaway from Yuma. And since it hadn't happened again as far as anybody could tell, there wasn't any reason to take it very seriously."

"Until now," Joanna said. She switched on her blinking red emergency lights and pressed the gas pedal all the way to the floor.

"Right," Jaime agreed hollowly. "Until now."

"You've talked to Ernie?"