spotted a woman, a boy, and a new white truck in one of the bays at Joe’s.
The boy was using the spray gun to reach the top of the truck and the woman was scrubbing the wheel wells.
The woman, whose back was to Tess, stiffened. She straightened up slowly and turned to look in Tess’s direction. For a moment, Tess thought she’d been mistaken—was it a man? No, a woman.
The woman gave her a long look and then turned away—a casual move that was anything but—and went back to work. But Tess could sense the woman was aware that she hadn’t driven on. Tess could imagine the woman sending feelers out into the air. Silly, but she didn’t dismiss it because so much of police work depended on instinct. Instinct had saved her life on more than one occasion.
The strange thing was, the woman looked like a cop. She was clothed the way a male undercover cop would dress: she wore a knit polo shirt loose over the hips, jeans, and good athletic shoes. When the woman turned away, Tess saw the outline of a weapon on her hip, under the shirt.
The truck was brand new. Tess memorized the temporary Arizona license sticker in the back window of the truck, then drove on, circling the block. She came back up the other street—Yucca. Now she could see the inside of the car wash bay from the other side. Everything was silhouetted against the hot glare of the sun, but Tess could see that the woman was standing in front of the truck now, watching as she drove past.
Tess felt a jolt to her heart. Pure adrenaline, laced with fear.
Something about that woman, the way she watched Tess drive by. It made Tess feel as if she’d dodged a bullet. When she reached the next stop sign, she realized her legs were shaking.
B ACK AT THE sheriff’s office, Tess ran the white truck’s temporary license number. The truck was new off the lot at Talbot’s Chevrolet in Clarkdale, Arizona. It had been sold to a Sedona company called “Sandstone Adventures.”
Tess spent the next twenty minutes trying to run down Sandstone Adventures, but after checking several business directories, she found no such company. She called a friend of hers who ran a jeep tour out of Sedona.
“Sandstone Adventures? Never heard of them.”
“Are you sure?”
“I know every company in this town. I have to—they’re the competition.”
“Thanks,” she said.
She called the dealership that sold the truck and asked to talk to the salesman. He was reluctant to divulge any information about a customer at first, but at last, he told her that the buyer wanted the truck for a company.
“What did he look like?” Tess asked.
“It was a she.”
“Did she look like a man?”
“Are you kidding? She was a real looker. Long blonde hair, pretty rich looking.”
Could that be the same woman? The one who clearly enjoyed looking like a man?
Tess knew what Pat would say: nothing there.
But he hadn’t seen her in the flesh.
“Anything else you can tell me about the woman?”
“She had a kid with her.”
Tess’s pulse quickened. “How old?”
“I dunno. Eleven, twelve, maybe? Kid had a yo-yo. About drove me nuts. A distraction, you know?”
It was her.
By now, the woman and boy were probably long gone. Why would they stay in Paradox? Tess would keep an eye out for them, sure, but she wouldn’t go looking. She’d have no reason to pull them over. They had not broken any law as far as she could tell.
Tess realized she was relieved.
Chapter Ten
Ten Minutes to Midnight
T HE COYOTES ON the bajada were yipping again. No matter how often Sheriff Thaddeus “Bonny” Bonneville heard them, their manic, high-pitched shrieks set his teeth on edge. Been that way since he was a kid.
His coon dog, Ed, was waiting for Bonny to get up and walk down the hall to bed, but Bonny wasn’t ready yet.
Bonny thought about Bajada County’s one detective, Pat Kerney, and the deputy. They worked well together. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think Bajada County had two
The boy was using the spray gun to reach the top of the truck and the woman was scrubbing the wheel wells.
The woman, whose back was to Tess, stiffened. She straightened up slowly and turned to look in Tess’s direction. For a moment, Tess thought she’d been mistaken—was it a man? No, a woman.
The woman gave her a long look and then turned away—a casual move that was anything but—and went back to work. But Tess could sense the woman was aware that she hadn’t driven on. Tess could imagine the woman sending feelers out into the air. Silly, but she didn’t dismiss it because so much of police work depended on instinct. Instinct had saved her life on more than one occasion.
The strange thing was, the woman looked like a cop. She was clothed the way a male undercover cop would dress: she wore a knit polo shirt loose over the hips, jeans, and good athletic shoes. When the woman turned away, Tess saw the outline of a weapon on her hip, under the shirt.
The truck was brand new. Tess memorized the temporary Arizona license sticker in the back window of the truck, then drove on, circling the block. She came back up the other street—Yucca. Now she could see the inside of the car wash bay from the other side. Everything was silhouetted against the hot glare of the sun, but Tess could see that the woman was standing in front of the truck now, watching as she drove past.
Tess felt a jolt to her heart. Pure adrenaline, laced with fear.
Something about that woman, the way she watched Tess drive by. It made Tess feel as if she’d dodged a bullet. When she reached the next stop sign, she realized her legs were shaking.
B ACK AT THE sheriff’s office, Tess ran the white truck’s temporary license number. The truck was new off the lot at Talbot’s Chevrolet in Clarkdale, Arizona. It had been sold to a Sedona company called “Sandstone Adventures.”
Tess spent the next twenty minutes trying to run down Sandstone Adventures, but after checking several business directories, she found no such company. She called a friend of hers who ran a jeep tour out of Sedona.
“Sandstone Adventures? Never heard of them.”
“Are you sure?”
“I know every company in this town. I have to—they’re the competition.”
“Thanks,” she said.
She called the dealership that sold the truck and asked to talk to the salesman. He was reluctant to divulge any information about a customer at first, but at last, he told her that the buyer wanted the truck for a company.
“What did he look like?” Tess asked.
“It was a she.”
“Did she look like a man?”
“Are you kidding? She was a real looker. Long blonde hair, pretty rich looking.”
Could that be the same woman? The one who clearly enjoyed looking like a man?
Tess knew what Pat would say: nothing there.
But he hadn’t seen her in the flesh.
“Anything else you can tell me about the woman?”
“She had a kid with her.”
Tess’s pulse quickened. “How old?”
“I dunno. Eleven, twelve, maybe? Kid had a yo-yo. About drove me nuts. A distraction, you know?”
It was her.
By now, the woman and boy were probably long gone. Why would they stay in Paradox? Tess would keep an eye out for them, sure, but she wouldn’t go looking. She’d have no reason to pull them over. They had not broken any law as far as she could tell.
Tess realized she was relieved.
Chapter Ten
Ten Minutes to Midnight
T HE COYOTES ON the bajada were yipping again. No matter how often Sheriff Thaddeus “Bonny” Bonneville heard them, their manic, high-pitched shrieks set his teeth on edge. Been that way since he was a kid.
His coon dog, Ed, was waiting for Bonny to get up and walk down the hall to bed, but Bonny wasn’t ready yet.
Bonny thought about Bajada County’s one detective, Pat Kerney, and the deputy. They worked well together. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think Bajada County had two
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