“Tablet. She had a tablet, not a laptop,” Paul said, as if it made a difference. Dylan noticed he used the past tense. Was he giving up already?
“Okay, Paul, tablet. It’s too bad we don’t have that.”
“She was working on something, but I never thought it would get her in this kind of trouble,” he said.
“What was she working on, besides Rufio’s story?” Dylan hadn’t worked out what he thought that story had to do with her disappearance, just that it was connected. He kept his theory to himself. “And what do you mean, ‘this kind of trouble’? What kind of trouble do you think she’s in?” This turn of the conversation had him worried about a whole different scenario. What if…he didn’t even know it was true…Rufio was mixed up with a cartel? Could she have gotten too close to something? To whatever had gotten him killed, for example?
That train of thought had him almost wishing she had been in an accident. Dylan’s plan changed in that moment. Instead of wasting more time on a fruitless search along the road, he needed to convince Wells the search had to start early. It was time to confess to Lt. Wells Dylan and Alex both had been messing around with the investigation, give Wells what he had, and ask him to consider whether Alex’s disappearance wasn’t just a bit too much of a coincidence.
He’d been lost in thought after his question, so Paul’s answer startled him. “She said it was a blog. She’d got it into her head she could help identify people whose remains hadn’t been identified, or claimed. Said it was sad about their families not knowing. Rufio not being identified for a couple of weeks got her thinking about it. Probably her mom, too, if the truth were known. She never talks about that.”
That was right, she’d told him about it. Paul didn’t elaborate on his last statement, but it was common knowledge in town Alex’s mother had walked out on her and her dad when Alex wasn’t even old enough for school. He hadn’t thought about it in years, but she probably had always wondered why her mother never came back for her, never communicated. He knew she did when they were together.
“Paul, has Alex’s mother ever been in touch?”
“No, never,” Paul answered, his eyes sliding to the left. Dylan knew it wasn’t a completely accurate indicator of a lie, but the leftward look alerted him to a possible falsehood on Paul’s part. He had to put it aside, though. For every minute he spent here talking to Paul, a minute of light was wasted. He had to get going.
~~~
Dylan left Paul’s house before making the call. The man had been through enough, without getting the idea his daughter might have been deliberately harmed. He’d have to know, soon, but Dylan didn’t want that to happen until he’d secured Wells’ cooperation. As he reached his car, and got in, he was already fishing in his pocket for his cell phone.
He had Lt. Wells’ card with his direct office number, but Wells didn’t answer when he placed the call. He left a message and then immediately called the switchboard, telling the dispatcher it was urgent he speak to Wells, life and death. She patched him through to Wells’ cell phone, where Dylan reached him at home.
“Sorry to spoil your dinner.” Dylan’s anxiety spiked. Would Wells give him any credence?
“Not to worry. What can I do for you?” Wells said. Dylan liked that he didn’t waste time in recriminations for disturbing him when he was off-duty.
“I have some information for you, and a request.” Urgency colored his tone.
“What’s happened?” Wells asked.
“Alex Ward is missing, and I think it’s related to your case. She’s an adult, so the locals won’t start a search, but we’ve already determined she isn’t anywhere we’d expect her to be, even if she’s had an accident. I’d like you to override the seventy-two hour rule and get a search party started. If she’s out in the heat with no water…”
“I get it,” he said. “Tell me quickly why you think it’s related. If I agree it’s a possibility, I’ll do it.”
Dylan told him about what the coyote had said about Rufio, what he’d heard at the casino, and that Alex had been investigating after a fashion, too. “I’m afraid she asked the wrong person the wrong question,” he concluded.
“What makes you so sure she isn’t with a friend or something?” Wells asked.
Dylan reminded him she commuted to school, and told him when she’d gone missing. “At first we thought accident, but Highway Patrol agreed to search along Highway 8 from Gila Bend to Casa Grande, and I covered the other leg, twice. There’s no sign of her car.”
“That’s a lot of ground to search,” he said.
“Tell me about it. She’s somewhere, and if it’s out in the wilderness, she’s been in danger for almost twenty-four hours. There’s no more time to waste,” Dylan was holding it together because he had to. But a lump formed in his throat, making it hard to talk. If she was dead…
“One more thing,” he said. “I don’t know if it means anything, probably not. Maybe just a rivalry thing, because both of us are interested in Alex…you know.” He didn’t want to make it more than it was. Wells made a noise of assent.
“Well, one of your deputies called her in last Saturday and interrogated her, scared her half to death and told her I was a suspect.”
“I remember, she told me that. Joe Hendricks. I’ll talk to him about it, but first let’s find your girl.”
Relief washed over him as Dylan heard Wells’ intention to start the search. “Thanks, Lt. Wells. Let me know where to report for the search party.”
“How’s her dad doing?” he asked. Dylan was surprised he knew anything about her family. He’d said ‘dad’, not ‘mom and dad’.
“Taking it rough.”
“Let him know we’re moving on this,” he said. “See if you can get a piece of clothing and take it on over to the branch office. I’ll send a guy with a search dog; expect him in a couple of hours.”
“I’ll do that. Thank you. You don’t know how much this means to me.” Ending the call, Dylan’s last sentence echoed in his mind. It did mean a lot to him. She meant more to him than he’d been willing to admit. He slammed a fist into the dashboard. Why had he wasted so much time in denying it?
~~~
Dylan knew it would take some time for Wells to get through to the locals. And then it would take up to an hour to get the search organized. He went home to get ready to be part of the search party, and have something to eat.
When he got to the cop shop, he found the mayor there, the distant relative he called Tia Wanda , along with Chief Deputy Thurston and several other deputies he knew slightly. Thurston and Wanda were deep in conversation, and the others were just milling around, waiting to be told what to do. Why hadn’t they started yet? Not wanting to alienate anyone, Dylan didn’t ask directly, but sent Wanda a questioning look.
“Dylan, I’m glad you’re here,” she said. “Is that Alex’s clothes?”
“Yes, shorts and a shirt. She’d done laundry, so this was all Paul could find that had her scent.” He wanted to know what Wanda was doing here, and why the search hadn’t started. No one was volunteering any information.
“Bring the clothes and come with me,” Wanda directed. Kevin Thurston looked as if he might object, but Wanda quelled him with a pointed look of her own and took Dylan’s arm. Once they were outside, she explained.
“They’re not happy Wells overrode the waiting period. Thurston’s an ass,” she added. Dylan snorted. “I’ve called a couple of people, one from here in town and another from the reservation, who have trained dogs. Wells called me after he talked to Thurston and told me to use my influence to ensure their cooperation. You know how that works between Thurston and me.” For a moment, she frowned.
“Anyway, I’m doing what I can. Meanwhile, I want you to take the clothing to the Elks Lodge. There’s a search party of volunteers forming there, and Lefty Brown has brought his dog. Let the dog have a good sniff and then bring the clothing back here.”
“Won’t the dog have to sniff the scent
more than once?”
“No, not this one. He actually isn’t scent-specific; he’ll follow any human scent. We’ve used him before in searching for lost kids. Having her scent will just be a bonus for him. The dog Tom Wells is sending will make the best use of the clothes.” They had reached his car and were standing next to it as Wanda finished speaking.
“Where’s your pickup?” she asked.
This time Dylan had to laugh out loud. No one ever noticed his arm, just the missing pickup. He raised the arm, which wasn’t in the prescribed sling, and showed her his cast. “Totaled it. Broke my arm.”
“You owe me a story,” she said, punching him lightly on the other arm. “But let’s find Alex first. I’m damn fond of that girl.”
“You and me both.” He grinned at her in spite of his worry. “You handle Thurston, and I’ll get the others started.” For the first time since Paul had called him, Dylan felt hope everything would turn out all right. But, they had to hurry.
“It’s a deal.”
The crowd at the Elks Lodge nearly brought tears to his eyes. Why hadn’t they done this last night, or early this morning? Oh—because he didn’t know then there was another explanation for her disappearance. He couldn’t have pulled this off this morning. Still, the hours of potentially-fatal heat between last night and right now weighed heavily on his conscience. He got out of the car and looked for Lefty, finding him giving his dog a drink of water in a tiny patch of shade.
“Lefty, Wanda Lopez sent me to give your dog a whiff of these,” he called, holding up the bag with Alex’s clothes in it.
“Good deal. He ought to remember her scent,” Lefty said.
“Oh?” Dylan’s searching look invited Lefty to say more.
“I dated her after you left,” he explained. “Couldn’t compete with you while you were still in town. Always wanted to thank you for leaving,” he said, his expression belying the lightness of his words.
“What happened?” It was a fair question; Alex didn’t seem to have anyone in her life before they renewed their relationship, unless it was that asshole, Joe.
“Nothing much,” he said. “She never got serious with anyone after you left. A few of us made a run at her. She was good fun, but she didn’t stay with anyone for long. And none of us could get far with her.” It was a startling admission for a small town. Most of the time, if a girl went out with more than a couple of guys during her high school years, half of the ones she’d dated would claim they’d fucked her, an ugly little convention he was glad Alex had beaten.
“But you’re willing to search for her?”
“Oh, hell yes. She’s a great gal. Used to hang around with my wife, but now Tammy’s too busy with the kids,” he said. Kids, a wife, and Lefty; it didn’t seem to work, but then Dylan had been gone for a while. He held his left hand out to shake Lefty’s, who grasped it firmly.
“Don’t worry, dude, we’ll find her.” Dylan wished he could be as confident as Lefty was. He handed him the bag, and Lefty held it open for his yellow lab to sniff. If the occasion hadn’t been so serious, the quizzical look the dog turned on Lefty might have been comical. “Let’s go find her, Jackie,” Lefty said. In response, the dog bounded over to his pickup, waiting for him to open the door. Smart dog; he knew they had to go somewhere else to look.
“Any idea where to start?” Lefty asked.
“Yeah. Do you know where that guy was found a couple of weeks ago?” Dylan hoped he’d know, not wanting to get into who ‘that guy’ was.
“Sort of. Just north of the airport, on the other side of the road?”
“You got it. Start around there. Look for a place where a car might have gone off the road, or stopped on the shoulder, but anywhere along there is a good place to start. Pile up some rocks so the other search parties will know where you started.” It wasn’t the most efficient way to direct a search, but Dylan wasn’t directing the main search, and he didn’t know where Thurston would establish the grid. It was just a hunch.
“Okay. My cell doesn’t work out that way. Do you have a CB?” Dylan could see through the window Lefty had a citizen’s band radio rig on his dash.
“No, but I’ll find someone who does to coordinate communications. Thanks, Lefty.”
“No worries. At least this gets me out of another night of fighting with the kids over bedtime.”
~~~
Dylan got back to the cop shop just in time to witness a screaming match between Kevin Thurston and Tia Wanda. Near as he could tell, she was ordering Thurston to get the search started, and he was stubbornly saying he’d wait for the dog. When Dylan stepped into the room, they both stopped yelling and looked at him. He’d had enough of the local deputies stalling.
“What’s your problem, Thurston? Waiting for her to die, so she can’t investigate your incompetence and print it in the paper?” Wanda’s eyes went round and Thurston sputtered. Dylan stepped up to Thurston and poked him in the chest with a pointing finger as he made each argument, forgetting to keep his suspicions to himself.
“Where’s Joe Hendricks?” Dylan demanded, not seeing him in the small crowd. First jab.
Second jab. “You people haven’t done a thing to find Rufio Mendez’ murderer, and you’re about to let Alex Ward be the next victim.”
Third jab. “As soon as we find her, I’m going to demand an investigation of this department. You’d better hope we find her alive.”
Dylan drew his hand back to dart it forward and jab again, but this time Thurston caught it in his fist.
“Stop right there. Are you accusing Joe Hendricks of something? Spell it out, half-breed.” A gasp from Wanda drew his attention. “Aw, shit, Mayor Lopez, I didn’t mean anything by it. This kid just got me riled.”
“Kevin, consider yourself on administrative leave,” Wanda snapped.
“You can’t put me on leave, I don’t answer to you!” he snarled back.
“Watch me. If you’re not out of this room in ten seconds, I’ll shoot you myself,” she threatened, rummaging in her purse.
“Wanda!” Dylan cried.
“I don’t care,” she said. “I’ve had enough of that pompous ass.” Rounding on the rest of them, she bellowed. “What are you waiting for? Go find that girl!” They nearly ran through the door. Dylan hoped someone would take charge and get a reasonably organized search going.
“That’s going to cost you,” he said to Wanda.
“Well worth it,” she said, a grim smile on her lips. “I’ve wanted to fire that jackass ever since I took office. I’ll make a formal complaint first thing tomorrow. Did you get with Lefty?”
“Yeah. You didn’t tell me he and Alex had a thing a while back.”
“Didn’t think it was any of your business. Wait with me here for the dog from the res and for Wells to get here.”
“Yes ma’am. Say, while we’re waiting, can you tell me how we’re related?”
~~~
Alex dribbled the last of the first bottle of water onto her tongue, wishing with all her heart she dared open the second and drain it. She couldn’t estimate the temperature. She only knew she was drenched in sweat earlier, and her legs had cramped so badly she screamed each time the charley horse gripped her. When the last cramp stopped, she steeled herself for the next one, but it never came. It had been hours since she’d had one. She was dizzy now, and there was a thought she couldn’t quite bring to focus. Salt. Something about salt. Is there any salt here? Won’t that make me thirstier? She considered trying to get up and look for salt, but she couldn’t remember why she wanted it. And moving was too hard. She’d tried rolling from side to side, to get her skin next to a cooler part of the upholstery on the bench. None of it was cooler.
Her headache was worse. Before, it hurt to move her head, but now it was excruciating. She should have looked for aspirin or something while she was up. Maybe if I go to sleep, it will feel better when it’s time for my next sip of water. How long had it been since the last sip? Would the second bottle la
st until someone came? Where was Joe? Maybe he was getting water. Good ol’ Joe, he wouldn’t let her die. Sleep for a while, and Joe will be here soon.
~~~
It was full dark by the time the second dog got there, called from Sells by Wanda. The one Wells had sent and its handler arrived shortly afterward. They had heard from Lefty where he set up his search, assigning the volunteers to walk in a straight line west from the road, spaced every few yards, as professional as any regular law enforcement search. Word got passed to him from the southern-most assignment the sheriff’s department had arrived and spread out in similarly-spaced rows south of the volunteers. Wanda had him give the police dog’s handler Alex’s shirt. He gave the shorts to the O’odham tracker who brought the other dog, a scruffy mix that looked none too impressive.
Both of them left within minutes of arriving, and would meet up with the searchers for assignment. Dylan turned to Wanda.
“I’m going to go let Paul know everyone is out on the search, and then join them. Thanks for everything, Wanda.” The explanation of how they were related was so complicated he’d decided to just keep calling her Wanda, or Tia Wanda, and not worry about whose second cousin twice removed had married his mother’s third cousin on her dad’s mother’s side. Or whatever she’d told him. He had only asked to keep his mind occupied while they waited for the dogs, but hadn’t really been able to pay attention.
“Dylan, how long has it been since you slept?” Wanda asked.
“I slept last night.”
“For how long?” Her gaze was implacable. “You won’t help Alex by falling asleep at the wheel on the way there and killing yourself,” she said. “I’m following you home, and you’d better stay there for at least six hours. I’ll go talk to Paul.”
It was good advice, but Dylan had no reasonable expectation of being able to sleep. Still, if Wanda was going to enforce the directive by following him home, he had to try. He could always get up and go once she was convinced he’d obey.
Ange was engrossed in the TV again when he walked in. “You look like shit,” she said.
“Thanks. I feel like shit.”
Fatal Exposure Page 17
