Chapter Four

Saturday, December 29th

Way-too-early-o’clock …

Ronnie tiptoed through the dirt and weeds along the edge of the campground’s gravel drive. Gramps’s Winnebago loomed up ahead on the other side of Manny’s Airstream. Both campers’ windows were dark and quiet, like the pre-dawn world around her.

So far, so good.

She’d asked Grady to drop her off in front of the General Store. Her explanation that walking the short distance to the camper was good for her heart and lungs had been met with a frown, but he’d heeded her request. Truthfully, though, she wanted to avoid being caught by her mother after a night in his bed.

As far as Deborah was concerned, dating the sheriff of Cholla County was akin to sending love letters to Charles Manson. It made no sense to Ronnie why her mother turned all squinty-eyed and snarly when Grady’s name was mentioned, let alone when he came around in person.

Claire suspected their mother’s dislike stemmed from a handful of blame incited by the amount of times the sheriff had housed her daughters in his jail cells since they’d moved south—especially Katie. Manny claimed it had more to do with Grady getting free milk from one of Deborah’s prized cows, which spurred Chester to start telling “udder” jokes about Ronnie’s “udder” failures to date. Unfortunately, her past inspired much fuel for laughter.

For the most part, Ronnie didn’t give a crap why her mom wasn’t a fan of the sheriff. Compared to Lyle and his fake jewelry and big fat lies, Grady was a rare blue diamond. However, for some ridiculous reason, Deborah’s disapproval was a burr under his saddle. Watching Grady try to win over her mother had Ronnie pulling her hair out.

She stopped under the Winnebago’s awning and slipped off her cowboy boots. A glance at her mother and Manny’s place found it the same as before—silent. With the stealth of a cat burglar, she fished the spare key from under the RV and unlocked the camper door. Easing inside, she softly shut the door behind her.

Whew! Made it through the gauntlet without a hitch.

A growl sounded at her feet.

She looked down. A certain spoiled beagle sniffed her socks. What was he doing here?

“Henry,” she whispered to Gramps’s dog. “It’s me.” She scratched between his ears, wincing when his tail thumped several times on the carpet.

With any luck, she could grab some fresh clothes and return to the General Store without waking …

Two loud claps in the darkness made Henry yip.

Ronnie nearly peed her pants.

The lamps bookending the couch came on, lighting up the room.

“Well, well, well,” Natalie said from her bed on the couch. “Look who Henry the ferocious guard dog caught. The one and only Veronica Morgan, sneaking in at the butt crack of dawn with her boots and underwear in her hands. It’s almost as if I’ve time-traveled back to our high school days.”

Ronnie breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m wearing my underwear, knucklehead. Besides, Claire and Katie were the ones who snuck in after curfew. I was an angel and never broke the rules, remember?”

“Oh, yeah. I’d forgotten how boring you were back then. Time has certainly livened you up.”

“You can shove your ‘boring’ where the sun doesn’t shine.” She tossed her boots at Natalie’s legs, making her cousin dodge and giggle. “I was sneaking in this morning because I didn’t want to wake you up.”

“Bzzzzt. Wrong answer. You didn’t want to wake up your mother and you know it, which is silly considering that you’re almost thirty-six years old.”

Ronnie walked to the small fridge and grabbed the pitcher of water she kept in it. “You’re right. I’m hiding from Mom.” She filled a glass and then leaned back against the counter. “I don’t know why I’m sneaking around the place. She’s probably deep in a drunken sleep again and wouldn’t hear a bomb go off next to her window.”

“I envy her ability to sleep these days.”

What did that mean? Was Natalie up listening to every bump in the night now that she knew about the diamond killer coming for them? Ronnie hadn’t been sleeping well for weeks, especially when she was alone in Gramps’s RV. Spending the night at Grady’s was a relief most nights for more than carnal reasons.

Maybe Natalie was referring to how uncomfortable the couch could be, especially when Henry insisted on sharing it. “I thought you were going to sleep in the queen bed in back since I was staying at Grady’s.”

“I tried to, but you know how that end of the Winnebago is closer to your mom and Manny’s Airstream?” At Ronnie’s nod, she grimaced. “I think I heard them having sex last night.”

“No!”

“Unfortunately, yes. First, I heard the Bee Gees singing ‘How Deep Is Your Love,’ then I heard something crash followed by a bunch of loud moaning.”

Ronnie shuddered, setting her glass on the counter. “Maybe Mom was drunk and stumbling around again. That could be the crash you heard, and the moaning was her in pain.”

Yeah, that was it.

Natalie sat up, pushing the quilt aside. “Listen, oh great and noble Queen of Denial, I know what drunken moaning sounds like, trust me.” She straightened the yellow thermal top she wore as pajamas. “What I heard next door was rowdy sex going on between my aunt and new uncle. Even poor Henry was covering his ears. The only way we could make it go away was to come out here and crank up the damned golden oldies on the radio until they finally went to sleep a half-hour later.” She crossed her arms. “Your new stepfather is apparently quite a Latin lover.”

“Oh, Lord love a duck.” Ronnie joined Natalie on the couch. Henry jumped into her lap, circled twice, and then plopped onto his belly. “I wish Mom would stop acting like she’s in her raging twenties.”

Natalie chuckled. “While I don’t love listening to my aunt do the wild thing, I am glad to hear that I could still be enjoying physical relationships when I’m her age.”

“Nah, you’ll probably be on this silly sabbatical yet.”

“No way. One year is the plan, and that’s it.”

“How long has it been since you broke up with the jerk that instigated this vacation from men?”

“July. Five loooong months, babycakes.”

Ronnie smirked. “During the last two years of my marriage to Lyle we had sex three times. I was on sabbatical without even knowing it. How sad is that?”

“Sad enough to bring a tear to a glass eye. But you’re making up for it now, right?”

“No. Grady and I are merely good friends, that’s all.”

Natalie laughed. “Are you practicing for your mom?”

“A normal parent would approve of me being in cahoots with the sheriff of Cholla County.”

“Your mother is the polar opposite of normal.”

“It doesn’t help that Grady is a public servant. She had big hopes for me, you know. A husband with lots of money and prestige.”

“You tried that route and look where it got you.”

“Penniless with a target on my back.” Ronnie groaned, leaning her head on the cushions. “You haven’t even heard the latest.”

“Latest about Lyle?”

“Yeah. As if I don’t have enough trouble with that damned diamond killer business, Loose-lips Lyle has gone and made a bigger mess. He rolled over on some big shot in Dallas to lessen the severity of his sentence.”

“Shit-burgers. That can’t be good.”

She frowned at Natalie. “It’s not. Mississippi is on high alert, keeping an eye out for several more troublemakers coming my way.”

Natalie scooted closer and leaned her tousled head on Ronnie’s shoulder. “What are you going to do?”

“Nothing. I’m sinking like the Titanic after it played chicken with an iceberg. All I can do is try to sink with dignity.” Ronnie scratched Henry’s back. “To round out my complete list of fucked-up shit, Grady’s ex is back in town.”

“His ex-wife?”

“Yep.”

“What’s her story?”

Ronnie gave Natalie the quick and ugly version of Elizabeth’s infidelity and relocation to Nevada with the kid and real father.

Natalie sat upright, a sneer curling her lip. “Wow! That was some wicked bitchcraft on her part.”

“And get this. Yesterday, she showed up at The Shaft and told me she wants Grady back.”

“Holy sassy-frassy! What did Grady say about this?”

Ronnie shrugged. “I didn’t tell him.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t want him to think I’m the jealous, insecure type of girlfriend.”

“But you are the jealous, insecure type of girlfriend.”

She held her fist under Natalie’s nose. “You want this up one of your nostrils or both?”

Natalie pushed her hand away. “Seriously, what’s really going on inside of here?” She pointed at Ronnie’s head.

After a moment of hesitation, Ronnie came clean. “I don’t think I’m the right woman for Grady.”

“Come again?”

“I’m a Morgan sister.”

“And damned proud of it, right?”

Ronnie bit her lower lip.

“Ronnie, you’re a fierce warrior and don’t take shit from anyone anymore. Be proud of that.”

“But Grady is in an elected position. He needs a girlfriend whose history is sparkly clean and doesn’t include a tie to a piece of shit who’s in prison for money laundering among many other crimes.”

Natalie crossed her arms. “Have you considered that this law dog might not be good enough for you?”

She scoffed “Please. After the shit-quake that rocked my world thanks to Lyle, I know my place.”

“I don’t like the sound of that.”

“Natalie, I’m a shiny penny on my good days. Grady needs a polished silver dollar.”

“Bullshit. The sheriff is lucky you allow him to grace your side.”

“You always were my favorite cousin.” Ronnie patted Natalie’s knee. “But I wouldn’t go that far.”

“I’m serious, Ronnie.” Natalie caught her hand and squeezed it. “Claire told me that you’re dressing to impress again these days, like you used to do for Lyle and his good-for-nothing friends.”

“Maybe I like to wear fancy dresses and heels.”

“You can’t snow the snowman.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“Yes, you do.”

Ronnie sighed. “You don’t get it. I’m tired of feeling like a piece of trash that Lyle wadded up and flushed down the toilet.”

“Newsflash—if you feel that way, fancy clothing isn’t going to fix anything. Take it from a girl who’s tried to be someone she’s not with each dickhead who has come along. If there’s one thing this sabbatical from men has taught me, it’s that the only way I can be happy is to be myself both inside and out. If a guy doesn’t like what he sees here,” she said, circling her hand in front of her, “then I don’t need him in my life, sexy gray eyes or not.”

“Gray eyes? That’s not a very random eye color to throw out in conversation.”

“Or blue or green. Whatever. My point is if Grady doesn’t like you in jeans and boots, then screw him.”

“I am screwing him. That’s what got me into this mess.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Natalie flopped back onto her pillow. “Everyone is having sex but me, even my crabby aunt. Rub it in.”

“So, what do you suggest? I tell Grady that his ex wants him back?”

“Sure. He needs to know about her big plans since he’s the prize.”

Ronnie fingered the hem of her dress. “What if he likes the sound of that?”

“Then he can go blow a goat for all you care, right?” When Ronnie didn’t agree, Natalie poked her in the hip with her big toe. “If Grady wants his ex back, you’re history. No amount of red lipstick, pretty dresses, or hot sex will change his mind.”

“Oddly enough, you’re not making me feel any better.”

“Wouldn’t it be good to know the truth rather than to keep playing this game with yourself?”

“Maybe. Probably. Yeah.”

Natalie grinned. “I mean, look how well pretending to be someone you’re not worked out for you with Lyle. ”

“You’re a brat.” Ronnie grabbed a pillow and whopped Natalie with it. “I take it back, you’re not my favorite cousin.”

“I told you before, you can’t snow the snowman.”

Ronnie stood and stretched. “I need to get dressed. I told Ruby I’d cover for her at the General Store this morning while she runs errands in Yuccaville.”

“Are you going to stretch first? Do some yoga?”

“No, I’m good. I did several yoga poses last night in Grady’s bed. He really knows how to work out my kinks.”

“Boo! Get out!” Natalie threw the pillow at Ronnie as she ran into the bedroom.

Fifteen minutes later, dressed in her favorite jeans and comfy cardigan sweater, Ronnie pushed open the General Store’s door. The air smelled like bacon and eggs—Mac’s favorite breakfast. Ruby must be up and spoiling her nephew already this morning.

Behind the store’s counter, Claire sat next to the register, frowning down at a piece of paper. Her hair was damp on the ends and wavy, probably finger-combed, knowing Claire. Ronnie caught a whiff of her watermelon shampoo over the store’s usual old varnish smell. Paint stains dotted her blue South Dakota Jackrabbits’ hoodie.

“What are you looking at?” Ronnie asked as she walked over to the snack aisle and grabbed a protein bar.

“Reservations for next week.”

Ronnie put the bar down on the counter next to the list, looking at the names upside down. “That’s a lot of campers.”

Claire’s frown deepened to a full-on scowl. “I know.”

“What’s with the sour face? This is a good thing for Ruby and the RV park.”

“Depends on your point of view and whether or not you’re waiting to be showered with bullets some afternoon while walking out of the tool shed.”

“You must have had an extra helping of paranoia for breakfast this morning.”

“Kiss my paranoid ass.” She pointed at the paper. “See these two names I’ve circled?” At Ronnie’s nod, Claire continued, “The names they’ve given for the reservation don’t match up with what I’ve found in the online white pages.”

She held up the new cell phone their dad had bought her for Christmas. He’d given one to Ronnie as well, including coverage for both of them on his family plan, which made their mother’s teeth grind. Katie already had a phone, so he gave her cash instead to help cover the cost of a new pregnancy wardrobe.

“What do you mean the names don’t match up?” Ronnie asked. “Are you running some sort of background check on these people?”

“Yeah, and you don’t need to get all huffy about it. I’m trying to keep the two of us breathing.”

“I know, but it sort of seems like an invasion of their privacy.” She leaned over the counter and stuffed the money for the protein bar in the register drawer.

“It’s not like I’m scanning their phone records, cheezewhiz. I’m just confirming they are who they say they are and that one of them isn’t some cold-blooded murderer hiding behind a fake identity.”

Ronnie took a second look at the names Claire had circled. One had listed a home address of Minnesota and the other as Wyoming. Both gave only PO boxes, no street addresses.

“You could check their photo ID when they get here.”

“They might have fake IDs.”

“If you’re really worried,” Ronnie said around a bite of chocolate and peanut butter, “I could ask Grady if he’d be willing to run their plates. Given our current up-shit-creek location, he’d probably be happy to help.”

“I don’t want to involve the cops any more than we have to. Old Dick Webber is right. Once the law sits on your couch and takes off their shoes, there’s no kicking them out of your house.”

Ronnie glared at Claire. “Grady is not just any cop.”

“I know. He’s the damned sheriff.” Claire lowered the paper, giving Ronnie a once-over. “I saw his pickup out front this morning.”

“So? He dropped me off on the way to work.”

“Jackrabbit Junction is like twenty miles out of his way to work.”

“You know I’m having sex with the sheriff, so why don’t you get to the point.” She stuffed the last of the bar in her mouth.

“Did you tell him what Mississippi told you yesterday about Lyle?”

She swallowed. “He already knew. Mississippi keeps him in the loop now.”

“What about your other visitor?”

“What other visitor?” Ronnie hadn’t told Claire or Katie about Elizabeth stopping by yesterday.

“His ex-wife.”

Ronnie’s mouth fell open. “How do you know about that?”

Claire pointed at her phone. “Natalie texted me.”

“I just told her that this morning.” Ronnie hadn’t made Natalie promise not to tell anyone about Grady’s ex, but who’d have figured the news would beat her to the General Store. “Dang, gossip travels fast.”

“I’m not sure if you understand how these new phones that Dad bought us work, but there are things called cell phone towers and satellites that help transmit messages at amazing speeds. Certainly faster than your slow butt can walk from the Winnebago to here.”

“I’d call you a horse’s ass, but that’s an insult to the equine population.”

Claire chuckled. “Listen, Natalie and I were talking last night at The Shaft after you left with your BB. We had an idea and thought you might be interested.”

“My BB? What’s that mean? Big Boyfriend?”

“Buddy with Benefits.”

“Grady is more than my sex buddy.”

“I know, that’s why I said benefits with an ‘s,’ as in plural.” She held up her fingers, ticking them off. “You get sex, food some nights, and a get-out-of-jail-free card with unlimited uses for you and your family.”

Ronnie glared at her.

“Oh, and a bodyguard when he’s not on duty. You really scored with your BB, I tell you.”

“Shut up.”

“Anyway, Natalie and I decided it’s time to reinstate the old gang—minus Kate because she’s completely deranged at the moment. With all of this shit coming down on us, we need to watch each other’s backs more than ever.”

“Old gang? You’re not talking about that stupid posse you guys formed with the neighbor when we were kids, are you?”

“It wasn’t stupid and you were one of the founding members, if memory serves me right.”

“There were five of us, Claire, including Violet Parker. We were all founding members.”

“Not true. We voted on allowing Kate to join.”

“Oh, yeah.” Ronnie smirked. “You didn’t want to let her in the posse back then either.”

“Only because she was lobbying to paint the treehouse Dad built bright pink. But I was outvoted.”

“It was a pretty shade of pink.”

Claire shook her head. “The Pink Posse. I still say it was a dumb name.” She pretended to gag. “So, what do you say? Are you in or not?”

“In what? The Pink Posse?”

“We changed the name.”

“To what?”

“The Prickly Pear Posse.”

Ronnie snorted. “Were you two drinking when you came up with that?”

“Maybe a little, but I woke up still liking it. Natalie told me to invite you even though I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”

Like Ronnie wanted to be part of their silly posse anyway. “Why not?”

Claire rolled her eyes. “Because you’re having intimate relations with the sheriff of Cholla County.”

“So what? That doesn’t mean I’m his lackey.”

“You sure? Because that polka dotted getup you wore yesterday told a different tale.”

“I’ll have you know that I like to wear dresses.”

“You don’t have to lie to make friends here. I’m your sister, remember?” Claire taped the reservation list on the wall behind her. “And don’t feel obligated to join our posse.” She turned back to Ronnie with a smile. “Like I said, I’m not sure you should be in it. You seem kind of shifty and cagey these days, and one of our first rules of order is ‘no secrets allowed.’ ”

“Shifty?” Ronnie huffed. “Katie is the one who is shifty right now, not me.”

“I agree. I don’t think we should let Kate in either.”

“Let me in what?” Katie said, parting the curtains hanging between Ruby’s private rec room area and the General Store.

“Nothing,” Claire said, lining up the cans of chewing tobacco on the shelf behind the counter.

“What are you doing here already?” Ronnie asked.

Katie joined her at the counter. She still wore her uniform shirt from The Shaft. Actually, this one looked clean and didn’t smell like last night’s beer. “Ruby invited me to come for breakfast. She doesn’t like me spending so much time alone at Butch’s place while he’s out of town.” She looked from Claire to Ronnie and back, her gaze narrowing. “What are you two hiding from me?”

“Nothing,” Claire said, avoiding eye contact.

Katie focused on Ronnie. “What’s going on? Is this about Grady’s ex-wife talking to you at the bar yesterday?”

Ronnie gasped. “Crap on a cracker! Did Natalie send out an all-points bulletin?”

“Natalie? No. Gary told me who the blonde was when I saw her talking to you yesterday during the lunch crowd.”

“Gary the bartender knows Grady’s ex-wife?”

“Yeah. She’s his cousin.”

Claire leaned her hip against the counter. “You’re kidding.”

“Don’t worry about Gary, though. He said she was always an uppity bitch, especially after she married Grady. He was glad to see her dust trail when she went to Nevada.” Katie planted her hands on her hips. “So, what were you two talking about when I walked in here?”

“The weather,” Claire said.

“You said no secrets allowed,” Ronnie reminded her.

Claire glared at her. “Ipzay ouryay ipslay,” she said in pig Latin, ending with, “big mouth.”

“No secrets allowed in what?” Katie pressed.

“Natalie, Claire, and I are reinstating our old posse gang.”

“Yes!” Katie’s eyes lit up, her smile a little too toothy for comfort, bordering on manic. “I’m in!” she told Claire, holding out her pinkie. “Who are we going after first?”

Claire looked down at Katie’s pinkie finger. “What’s that for?”

“Pinkie swear like we used to, remember?”

“We are not pinkie swearing.”

Katie held her pinkie toward Ronnie. “Come on, Ronnie. Swear me into the posse.”

“Ronnie doesn’t have the authority,” Claire said.

“Yes, I do. I’m the oldest,” Ronnie said, locking pinkies with Katie. “You’re in, kid.”

Claire’s scowl was back. “You are not the oldest. Natalie has you beat.”

“Not by much.”

“I have an idea,” Katie said, grabbing a cherry pastry from the shelf next to the cash register. “We can call ourselves the ‘Painted Lady Posse’ and wear pink nail polish to show our colors.”

Claire glared at Ronnie. “What have you done?”

“Katie, painted ladies are prostitutes in the Old West.”

“No shit. I’m the one with the highest IQ here, remember? It’s a play on words.”

“We are not going to call ourselves the Painted Lady Posse,” Claire said, clearly disgusted.

“Why not?”

“Because Natalie and I already came up with a name. We’re the Prickly Pear Posse.”

Katie giggled. “Seriously? Were you drunk when you guys came up with that?”

Claire’s lips thinned. “Don’t you have a bar to open?”

“That’s what you and Natalie were doing last night while Mac and I were cleaning up in the kitchen. I saw your heads together at the bar.”

“Yeah, well it seemed like a good idea last night. Now, I’m beginning to have my doubts.”

Katie hooked her arm with Ronnie’s. “Are you kidding? It’s a ridiculous name, but a great idea. We’ll all pull together like we used to in the old days.”

“You sure you’re up to this?” Claire asked Ronnie.

“If you’re asking whether I can walk the walk when it comes to Grady, then yes, I’m up to it.”

“What’s Grady got to do with …” Katie started. “Oh, right. He wouldn’t like this idea at all.” She turned back to Claire. “We need to start carrying guns.”

“NO!” Ronnie and Claire said at the same time.

“Come on. I told you when I shot your Jeep, it was an accident. It won’t happen again.”

“It’s not my Jeep that I’m worried about.”

The door creaked open.

“Oh, look,” Natalie said, strolling up to the counter in torn blue jeans and a flannel shirt—her work clothes. “It’s the good, the bad, and the ugly. Just the trio of trouble I was hoping to find.” She held out an envelope. On the front, cut-out letters that spelled “Veronica” were taped to it.

“What’s this?” Ronnie asked, taking it.

“I don’t know. It was stuck under the windshield wiper of the Winnebago. I noticed it coming back from the campground shower.”

Ronnie tore open the envelope and pulled out a piece of paper. More cut-out letters were taped to it. The message it spelled out made Ronnie gasp.

“What’s it say?” Claire asked.

Katie leaned closer. “You better watch your back,” she read out loud. She took the paper from Ronnie’s loose grip. “The author forgot to use punctuation at the end of the sentence.” She held the paper out for Claire to see. “This is another example where an exclamation mark is more suitable than a period.”

Claire snatched the paper from Katie’s hand. “I’m going to stuff your exclamation marks up your southern sphincter, Crazy Kate.”

“Don’t call me crazy, Claire.”

Natalie took the letter from Claire. “Cut-out letters, that’s smart. No handwriting analysis will help with this one.” She looked out the door, her gaze thoughtful. “I should try this next time.”

“What do you mean, ‘Next time’?” Claire took the letter back.

“Never mind.” Natalie pointed at the paper. “What do you think? Does this mean your diamond killer is in town? Could it be one of his love letters?”

“Maybe, but it also could be one of Lyle’s enemies,” Ronnie said, her heart still pounding in her ears. “They would know me by my full name.”

“Did those mules who stole the diamonds know you as ‘Ronnie’ or ‘Veronica’?” Claire asked.

Ronnie pondered that. “I don’t remember. But if it’s the diamond killer, why not include your name, too?”

“Maybe Ronnie is better known in the area, what with her dating the sheriff now,” Natalie said. “Claire isn’t in the public eye as much.”

“But why would a killer warn you?” Claire wondered. “Just to toy with his prey?”

“What are we going to do with this?” Katie asked, taking the paper from Claire.

“I should tell Grady and Mississippi.” Hiding behind their guns seemed the safest bet.

Claire crossed her arms. “See, Natalie. This is why I didn’t want to have her in the posse. She runs to her BB first thing these days.”

“He is not my BB,” Ronnie snapped.

“What’s a BB?” Katie asked absently while frowning down at the paper. “The letters were cut from a magazine, I’m pretty sure.”

“ ‘Bedroom Buddy,’ ” Ronnie told her.

“ ‘Buddy with Benefits,’ ” Claire corrected.

“BB.” Katie giggled. “I like that. Good one, Claire.”

“It’s stupid,” Ronnie said, snatching the letter back. “This needs to be given to the authorities to dust for fingerprints.”

“Sure, now that all of ours are on it.” Claire took the letter from Ronnie and held it up toward the fluorescent light over their heads.

Crud, that was true. Ronnie sighed.

“Whoever did it was clumsy,” Claire said. “The glue got spilled in the left margin.”

“I doubt a killer who cuts people into pieces is clumsy,” Katie said. “Although the lack of punctuation does indicate a psychotic mindset.”

“Are you even aware of what’s coming out of your mouth anymore, Kate?” Claire asked.

The door creaked open again.

“What’s going on in here?” Chester Thomas waddled inside, closing the door behind him. He looked fresh from his bed in a wrinkly T-shirt and grease-stained jeans. “A hen party?”

Claire stuffed the letter under the counter. “Nothing. We’re just figuring out what time we need to be at The Shaft today.”

“Really?” He tossed the Tucson newspaper on the counter in front of her. “So this little meeting has nothing to do with the fact that the bodies of a couple of night watchmen at the police auction yard in Tucson were found stuffed into the trunk of an old Cadillac yesterday afternoon?”

“Which police auction yard?” Claire asked.

“The one where a certain diamond-bearing RV was sold months ago to a guy who’s now deader than a doornail.”

Ronnie spread out the newspaper. All four of them looked down at the article Chester pointed out.

“How did they find the bodies with all of those vehicles there?” Katie leaned closer to the picture of the cars, trucks, and SUVs lined up for auction.

Chester set a bag of BBQ fried pork rinds on the counter. “According to the police, the K-9 crew sniffed them out. But they had a little help.”

“What sort of help?” Claire took his money and crammed it in the register.

“A pool of blood under the trunk.” Chester leaned his elbow on the counter, his bristly hair matching his unshaven cheeks. “Ten bucks says those poor guys were left in pieces like the last victim.”