horizon,
bringing to a close seven straight weeks of pristine blue skies. But the
rising wind was presenting a problem. Tawny dust devils, having siphoned up
sand, leaves and other debris from the bone-dry desert floor, performed a
dizzying ballet in traffic, splattering their gritty contents in all
directions. If it kept up, we might be in for a full-blown dust storm, which
would make driving even more hazardous, I thought as three eighteen-wheelers,
apparently in a race to see who could reach the border first, rumbled past. I
was relieved to see the sign announcing that only twenty miles remained until
our exit. Good. Armed with the additional information provided by Walter, I
was anxious to get started on my sleuthing. For Lupe’s sake, I prayed that the
little boy at the mission would be able to shed some light on the puzzling
disappearance of her relatives. Knowing just the little I did about this
intriguing case galvanized my senses. Was Tally right? Was I an adrenaline
junkie? If so, how was I going to change that? Did I even want to?
Thinking of him spawned a twinge of disappointment. Obviously Ruth had
never told him I’d phoned, but why hadn’t he taken the initiative to call me?
No doubt he was still annoyed about my decision to help Lupe. Couldn’t he see
past his own pigheadedness? Couldn’t he grasp that I’d had no option but to
pursue this situation as best I could? My thoughts roamed back to Ginger’s
evasive behavior last night. It galled me to no end to know she was sitting on
inside information concerning Tally and some other woman. What was behind her
roundabout references that I took him for granted? The tiniest ember of doubt
flickered inside me. Now that I really thought about it, there had been times
these past few weeks when he’d been distant and rather withdrawn. I had
attributed it to ongoing problems at the ranch, but I’d been so immersed in
putting out fires at the office that I hadn’t really pressed him for details.
I vowed right then that I would give him one hundred percent of my attention
next week and amply demonstrate the depths of my feelings for him. I grinned
to myself. The new skimpy two-piece bathing suit should set the stage nicely.
At Arivaca Junction, I pulled over and signaled for Lupe to take the
lead again. Other than the Cow Palace Saloon and the Long Horn Grill that
sported a gigantic steer’s head complete with long white horns, there wasn’t
much to the place, just a few scattered businesses and some ramshackle houses.
The streets seemed mostly deserted.
We waved goodbye to a smiling young Mexican girl sitting in the bed of
a pickup truck selling bunches of dried red chili peppers, and drove onto a
well-maintained road flanked by palo verde trees, prickly-pear cactus and thick
clusters of mesquite and ironwood. Secured inside miles of range fence, herds
of cattle grazed peacefully on the soft contours of golden grasslands sweeping
westward towards the eye-catching Baboquivari Mountains. I thought the jagged
peak piercing the now mostly cloudy skyline looked a little like an enormous
brown shark’s tooth.
The road gradually deteriorated into a series of sharp turns and sudden
dips that had my stomach doing cartwheels. As the car rattled over yet another
cattle guard, I decided that this particular route would be inadvisable for
anyone prone to carsickness. There was very little traffic other than an
occasional pickup or SUV. After a few miles of breathing the blue curtain of
oil-laden smoke from Lupe’s car, I dropped back behind her. Why risk an asthma
attack?
I have to admit that what happened next was totally my fault. Yes, I
was gawking out the window at the breathtaking scenery. Yes, I was thinking
about a hundred different things and I was most certainly driving too fast. As
I rounded a sharp curve and descended into a wash, it took a second for the
dark image ahead to
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley