Rattlesnake Crossing by J. A. Jance Read Free Book Online Page A

oversized body to a stretcher and then hauling her up out of the crawl space.
    "Believe me," Joanna said, "I'll be here."
    "Okay," Jaime said. "I'm on my way. You want me to send you back to Dispatch?"
    "Please."
    "I called Chief Deputy Voland out of his meeting. He's right here," Larry told her. "Hang on while I put him on the line."
    "I understand you've got a homicide up there?" Dick Voland demanded at once. "Where? Who?"
    "Clyde Philips, that gun dealer Frank was telling us about earlier this morning. I went by his house in Pomerene to see if he might have any idea who would be shooting up Alton Hosfield's Triple C with a fifty-caliber sniper rifle. The trouble is, Philips was already dead when I got here—dead in his bed."
    "You're saying somebody killed him?" Voland asked.
    "I don't know for sure. He had a garbage bag fastened around his neck, so it could be a homicide or a suicide, either one."
    "Have you notified Doc Winfield yet?" Voland asked. As of the first of July, Dr. George Winfield, former Cochise County Coroner, had taken on the revised title of Cochise County Medical Examiner. And as of several months prior to that, by virtue of marrying the widowed Eleanor Lathrop, he had assumed the role of stepfather to Sheriff Joanna Brady. Under ordinary circumstances, Joanna's call to 9-1-1 would have been followed immediately by a call to Doc Winfield. Right that minute, however, the pair of newlyweds was out of town.
    "He's away, remember?" Joanna said. "On his honeymoon."
    "Oh, that's right. The cruise to Alaska. I keep forgetting. So I guess somebody needs to call Pima County and have them send in a pinch hitter."
    "Bingo," Joanna said. "That was the arrangement. I was hoping we'd manage to skate through without needing to do that. Since we haven't, I'd like you to make the call. I'm stuck here in Pomerene for the duration, waiting for the EMTs to haul the victim's injured ex-wife out of the crawl space under the house."
    "So what is it, then?" Voland asked. "Some kind of domestic?"
    "I'm not sure what it is, although I don't think DV is too likely," Joanna told him. "Anyway, once you settle things with Pima County, I'll need you to do something else. Clyde has a locked gun shop out behind his house. It isn't necessarily part of the crime scene itself, and neither is his truck. We'll need to go through both of those in order to find out whether or not robbery is part of the motive for what happened here."
    "You want me to stop off and pick up a warrant?"
    "That's right."
    "Okay, then," Voland replied. "I'll be there as soon as I can.”
    Just as Joanna ended the call, Clyde Philips' front door opened. First one and then another of the firemen emerged. For more than a minute the two stood conferring, studying the door. The old-fashioned door was narrower than expected, and working Belle Philips' stretcher out through it was no easy task. It took several minutes of back-and-forthing before the EMTs finally managed to squeeze the heavily laden stretcher out onto the porch. As they loaded the gurney into the waiting ambulance, one of the firemen, red-faced and mopping grimy sweat from his brow, came over to where Joanna was standing. "How do you guys do it?" he demanded.
    "Do what?" she asked.
    "Stand the smell," he replied. "Do you get used to it, or what?"
    Joanna shook her head. "I don't think anybody ever gets used to it."
    The fireman shuddered. "Well, give me a fire any day of the week. In fact, give me two or three."
    Just then the ambulance started to move. With siren blaring, it made a quick U-turn and started back up Rimrock. "Where are they taking her?" Joanna asked.
    "University Medical Center in Tucson," the fireman replied. "One of the EMTs said he thought she probably broke both her hip and her shoulder. Although I'd say broken bones are the least of her problems."
    "What's the matter?" Joanna asked, giving him a searching look. "You think she has internal injuries as well?"
    The fireman—the name