Free Fire and Ice by J. A. Jance Page B

“I mean, none of this is Miller’s fault.”
    That was certainly true.
    “I can’t promise,” Joanna said, knowing how often her pound filled up with unwanted animals. “We’ll do our best to find a place for him, but if you happen to think of anyone else who might want him…”
    The sentence was interrupted by the ringing of Joanna’s cell phone. “I’m here,” Guy Machett announced in her ear. “At least I think I’m here. I’m at a place where the sign on the gate says ‘Action Trail Adventures.’ This is where the guy at the post office told me to come. There’s an Animal Control truck parked out on the shoulder of the road. I don’t see anyone in it.”
    “You asked for directions from the post office?” Joanna asked.
    “Yeah, right here in Bowie,” the M.E. replied. “Why not? Those people have to know where to find people.”
    Joanna noticed the man was still using the bow-and-arrow pronunciation of Bowie. He had also disregarded her advice about calling her for directions. She knew that his driving up to Bowie’s post office in a vehicle marked COCHISE COUNTY MEDICAL EXAMINER would have caused a firestorm of small-town interest even it hadn’t been Margie Savage’s place of employment.
    “The crime scene is out here in the dunes,” she told him. “If you like, I could send Ernie or Debra to come guide you in.”
    “I don’t need a babysitter,” he said. “I’m perfectly capable of getting there myself. Just tell me where you are.”
    Joanna turned to Ernie. “How far is it from the gate to where we turned off?”
    “Three-quarters of a mile,” he said. “Give or take.”
    Joanna returned to the phone. “All right,” she said. “Turn right on the gravel road and follow that for three-quarters of amile. You’ll see where the tracks lead off to the left into the dunes.”
    Joanna ended the call. “The M.E.,” she replied in answer to Ernie’s quizzical look. “He’s coming.”
    For the next several minutes she took a backseat to her detectives while Debra and Ernie plied Margie for information about her brother. “How long did Les work here?” Ernie asked.
    “Since he got out of treatment,” Margie said. “A little over a year. My two stepsons own the place, and they hired him as a favor to me. The ranch has been in the family—their mother’s family—for generations, and they inherited it after Monty died. Monty was my husband, you see. Third husband. The boys—Arnie and Chuck—have wanted to turn it into an ATV playground for years. Monty was against it, but once it belonged to them, they went ahead and did what they wanted.”
    “Is there any bad blood between your stepsons and your brother?” Debra Howell asked.
    “Between Les and the boys? Good heavens, no!” Margie exclaimed, rolling her eyes. “They’ve been good as gold to him, and to me, too. Just as Les was getting out of treatment, their previous caretaker quit. I asked them if they’d mind hiring him. He’d had to move out of his other place when he went in for treatment, and I knew the job here came with a place to live. I sure as hell didn’t want Les and his dog living with me.
    “It was a huge relief for me when they hired him. That way I knew Les had a roof over his head, and he made a little money, too, enough to supplement his Social Security and keep him and Miller in food. Chuck and Arnie let him have that old pickup truck and the ATV to drive around here and use for chores, but the rule was, Les wasn’t allowed to take either one of them off the property or onto the highway. With all those DUIs on his record, he’d lost his driver’s license and couldn’t have gotten insurance on a bet. So I’dtake him into town if he needed groceries and dog food. Or one of my daughters-in-law would. Like I said, Chuck and Arnie and their families were all as good to him as they could be, even if they did it because they were doing me a favor. They’re nice people.”
    “Did Les have a