2000 Kisses (38 page)

“It's about those dead animals. Those coyotes.” The graying rancher picked at his frayed cuff. “I reckon I lied when I talked to you.” He swallowed hard. “You see, it wasn't those folks up in the foothills. I killed those coyotes.”

TJ.'s first instinct was that the man was lying. Then he saw the hard lines at Stoner's mouth “Why in the hell would you pull a crazy stunt like that?”

“To get out. My land's worth less every year. Between taxes and irrigation costs, I'm losing more and more, and my Mariah's too old for this kind of life.” He turned his hat back and forth in his fingers. “She wants a nice little place over near Tucson, but who's going to buy one thousand dusty acres in the middle of a mountain range?”

“You did this to sell the Lazy C?” No matter how T.J. looked at it, it just didn't make sense.

“I figured those survival people changed everything. If I could pin it on them, it would make the news. Then that Graystone fellow would fight the arrest and Almost would be knee deep in TV crews, so people would see how beautiful it is up here. Maybe a developer would pay to put up some houses or a resort and I'd be ready to sell,” He gave a bitter laugh. “I guess I didn't plan it out very well. Mariah says I never was much for thinking things through.”

“What did you use as poison?”

“My brother found something down in Nogales. It's an anticoagulant.”

“And I'll just bet it hasn't been approved for import either.” TJ.'s eyes were icy. “I should run you in for this, you know.”

The older man nodded. “Figure you should. I'm ready to go when you are.”

“Did you cut those tires?”

“Yep.”

“What about that shot fired?”

Stoner's shoulders slumped, but he didn't avoid TJ.'s eyes. “It was mine. Hell, I didn't come anywhere close to her, Sheriff. I just wanted to scare her off, so that you'd pin that on those survival people, too. I was damned sorry that she fell; you have to believe it.”

TJ.'s hands curled into fists.
“Sorry!
You think that makes it all fine?”

“No. I reckon not It was a bad thing to do. You better run me in.”

TJ. looked around at the crowd. These were friends and family and neighbors, people Tom had known for fifty years. “What made you do such a damned fool thing?”

“I'm getting tired, I guess. Or maybe I'm just old.
I'm afraid Fll lose Mariah, and loneliness can be a teirible thing, Sheriff. I think Fd put a gun to my head if she left me.”

“Not if I know about it, you won't.” TJ. fixed him with an angry scowl. “That damned poison probably doesn't degrade. You remember where you left those animals?”

Stoner nodded.

“How many?”

“Twelve.”

T.J. rolled his eyes, muttering angrily. “You give me your word there will be no more of this?”

The rancher looked confused. “You aren't going to arrest me?”

“I haven't decided yet.” He thumped Stoner's chest. “I expect you in my office tomorrow morning at the stroke of eight. We're going to talk about exactly what you did and where you did it. Every hint of that poison has to be removed, and every dead animal will have to be recovered. After that Fll decide whether to arrest you or not. I can't say that the EPA people might not like a piece of your hide, too.” T.J. gave a tight smile to the mayor, who was motioning him toward the stage.

Time for his speech. TJ. hated speeches.

He glared at Stoner. “Go on before I change my mind.” TJ. turned away, rubbing his jaw. He'd deal with Stoner in the morning. The man wasn't going anywhere until then.

Meanwhile, he had to say something stirring. Elections were coming up, and these people were voters. He liked being sheriff. More important, he was good at the job and he knew he was making a difference.

Hell.

The high school band built to an off-key crescendo,
then fell into silence. As TJ. moved forward, papers rustled and people coughed in the restless silence.

He climbed the steps to die stage, thinking about how different his work was today. In the past, he had guarded senators and celebrities while they did the talking. Now he was the one at the mike.

He saw Ms. Eliza Jenkins' fourth-grade class. He saw their parents and their friends holding white cups filled with Mae's coffee. All of them were good people. All were entitled to promises made and kept.

He intended to do just that.

After the mayor finished his introduction, TJ. cleared his throat and pulled the mike closer. “My grandfather always told me there were three things a person had to know to live in Arizona. Never stalk a bobcat from the front, a jackass from behind, or a politician from any direction.”

He rubbed his jaw as laughter rippled through the audience, followed by loud applause. Tess and Grady were grinning as he continued. “The problem for me is that I'm standing here as your sheriff, and that means I get elected just like your other politicians. We've done good work here in Almost over the last few years. We've upgraded the 911 service, and so far there have been no problems with Y2K. We're fully connected with the state crime database, and we have acquired two automated accident assessment computers. In short, the millennium has passed us by almost painlessly.” Applause broke, interrupting him for a moment. “But that doesn't mean we don't have challenges before us. We need higher qualification in firearms for all officers. We need better staffing for our search-and-rescue team. Our holding facilities could do with a major renovation, too. Of course,
we all know that those things take money, something we don't have a lot of right now.”

T.J. stared out at the crowd, feeling a glow of pride for these people he'd been elected to protect. “Meanwhile, we're catching up with the rest of the world, and we will continue to improve our record.” He linked his fingers at the podium. “Today is the day Almost was founded one hundred and twelve years ago. If legend holds true, the first mayor had the disposition of a mule and the determination of an Apache scout. Those are traits we can all cultivate if we hope to survive here for another century or two.” He pushed back his hat and studied the crowd, then looked up at the drone of motors over the hillside, where a sleek helicopter churned into view. He picked out the bright red call letters of a television station in Tucson.

“One last thing and Til stop talking. AH of you know where to find me if you have complaints or suggestions. Meanwhile, enjoy the celebration and thank you for making Almost the best place in the world to live— for me and everyone else I know.”

As the applause rippled, T.J. watched Tess turn and move through the crowd toward the drinking fountains just across the square near the library. He relaxed as he saw Grady right beside her.

The helicopter landed, the din of its motor drowned beneath applause from the crowd.

T.J. saw Grady pacing awkwardly outside the women's room. He was heading across the square when two town council members cornered him, eager to talk about a fund-raiser for the new clinic.

Tess washed her hands carefully, then splashed some water on her face. She was pleased to see that her cheeks had taken on a healthy glow.

Her friends in Boston would be full of envy when she returned.

When she retuned.

Tess swallowed hard. Did she really want to go back?

She tossed the crumpled paper towel into the garbage, avoiding her reflection in the single mirror.

She was barely outside the door, when a bank of lights flipped on, blinding her. A man with perfectly even white teeth shoved a microphone into her face. “Ms. O'Mara? Morning News Arizona. We'd like to ask you a few questions, please.”

“Questions?” Tess blinked into camera lights that were blinding, even in the afternoon sunlight. “About what?”

“We want to talk about your experiences here in Almost. What does someone from the East think about a small town like this? You're from Boston, aren't you?”

She stared at the bright red logo on the microphone. “Boston?” she related flatly.

How did they know that?

“Sorry, I have to go.”

Distracted by the lights, she didn't feel the pinprick on her arm until it was too late. By then the sky was tilting, going dark above her.

It took T.J. three minutes to escape the council members. He crossed the square at a trot, searching for Grady, but only a mother with two toddlers stood outside the library.

There was no sign of Tess anywhere.

His trot turned to a sprint.

He was running now, pushing through the crowd as he fought down a premonition of danger. He was almost to the other side of the square when he saw the news helicopter lift off from flat ground behind the courthouse. The blades droned, shining in the late afternoon sunlight.

He looked up, shading his eyes against the sun. Something about the call letters on the side of the helicopter seemed wrong.

A moan drifted from the far side of a little garden outside the library, where Grady lay crumpled on the ground beneath a mesquite tree.

TJ. cursed as he crouched and performed a quick check for broken bones. “Grady, wake up,” he ordered. “Where's Tess?”

The deputy rubbed his head, wincing. “Last thing I knew, she was in the bathroom.”

TJ. tapped on the door and drew his gun. “Anyone in there?” A mother came out with a baby in her arms. “No one else is in there, Sheriff.” She frowned at TJ.'s gun, held in a tight line down die side of his body. She moved out of range fast, and T.J. edged inside.

He searched each stall and found diem all empty.

Grady was standing unsteadily when he emerged. “No one in there. Where is she?”

“They hit me from behind. I didn't see anything until it was too damned late.”

TJ. felt the shock hit him in the chest. Tess was gone, in die hands of men who would squeeze whatever information they wanted from her. When they had that, they would kill her.

Fury blurred his vision.

But T J. shoved down his anger and his fear. Emotions
weren't going to get her back safely. He reacted for his cellular phone, dialing the television station, only to be told what he already suspected. They had posted no news team to Almost.

“They must have taken her in the helicopter,” he said flatly, trying to stay calm while his stomach twisted in knots.

“The news crew?” Grady looked confused.

“That was no news crew.”

T.J.'s mind was already scanning possible locations, every thought focused on Tess, as if he might somehow pick up her subtle mental signals if he tried hard enough. The kidnappers would need a place that was secluded, where they would not be easily seen. Most crayons in the area were visible from the air. That left only two places.

The back country near the Needle would be perfect, but there weren't many places to land a helicopter there. That left only one.

T.J. ran to his Blazer, shouting orders to Grady on the way. He considered borrowing a helicopter from a rancher to the north, but discarded the idea almost immediately. The noise would give them away as clearly as a police siren.

The only answer was to go by car and track the chopper.

He needed Miguel to do that.

Grady directed him to the library, where Miguel was hunched over a computer terminal. He looked up, his eyes questioning.

“Someone has taken Tess,” T.J. explained tersely. “I need help to track them, and it might be dangerous,” he added. “But no one can read the landscape like you.”

Miguel's only answer was to rise and shoulder his canvas bag.