Secrets in Four Corners. Debra Webb

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      Chapter Two

      She hadn’t changed a bit.

      Patrick watched Bree walk away.

      Long dark hair always kept in a braid. As a detective she wasn’t required to wear the blue uniform, but she did as a matter of pride. She represented her people as well as the police department.

      For nearly eight years he had staunchly avoided running into her. Even after the powers that be in Kenner County had persuaded him to come to Colorado and serve as sheriff, in the jurisdiction where she lived, he’d managed to get by without contact. He’d heard that since they’d parted ways she had married a Ute man. It had been fairly easy to pretend he didn’t care.

      Now here they were…working a case together. And neither one of them was willing to back off.

      His gaze settled on the place where the victim lay amid the rocks and dirt of the barren landscape. A scrap of desert grass managed to thrive here and there around her position. Bleak was the word that came to mind…both for the place and the victim.

      Julie Grainger.

      Patrick hadn’t known the agent other than in passing. He’d met her once at a briefing. Professional, compassionate and dedicated.

      Now she was dead.

      Patrick shook his head. An incredible waste.

      Unable to delay the inevitable any longer, he put through a call to Special Agent in Charge Jerry Ortiz of the Federal Bureau of Investigation Durango field office that represented the Four Corners area. Making this kind of call to someone who no doubt knew the victim well was Patrick’s least favorite duty.

      But someone had to do it.

      Ortiz wasn’t in the office so Patrick was patched through to his cell phone. Ortiz had already heard the news from Callie MacBride. He was shocked and devastated. He’d called his people to set things in motion. His staff, those who knew Grainger as well as those who didn’t, would be stunned as well.

      Patrick ended the call, a sickening feeling in the pit of his gut. A damned shame.

      He turned all the way around and surveyed the barren land once more. What the hell had Grainger been doing out here? He was certain a highly trained agent wouldn’t have met an informant, much less a suspect, in such a secluded setting. Not without compelling motivation. His initial conclusion was that this had to be the secondary crime scene. Meaning she’d been dumped here like a piece of trash.

      Fury thundered inside him. As much as he loved the Four Corners area—it was his home—he hated the scum that had recently flocked here. Worse, he despised the lowlifes who were born and bred here. It seemed the harder he worked to clean up the county where he’d been raised, the harder evil worked to worm its way into his territory.

      He couldn’t stop the spread of drugs and crime; he was, after all, only one man. But he could damned sure do all within his power to slow it down.

      Officers Brewer and Cyrus were busy securing the scene, which should have been done immediately upon discovery. Patrick could only assume that the officers had been too overwhelmed by the discovery that the victim was a federal agent to act judiciously. He moved cautiously around the perimeter of the zone now officially designated by yellow tape as the crime scene. No tire tracks other than those of the vehicles parked nearby. No shoe imprints besides the ones belonging to those currently on the scene. The folks from the crime lab would sweep the area for evidence but so far he saw nothing but an abandoned soda can and a cigarette pack wrapper. Both of which would be analyzed just in case.

      A cloud of dust announced the arrival of more official vehicles. The crime lab folks, he hoped. The sooner the scene was searched for clues the greater the likelihood that any evidence left behind would be found.

      Patrick met the SUV as it skidded to a stop. All four doors opened. Callie MacBride, head forensic scientist at the Kenner County Crime Unit, climbed out of the front passenger-side door. Her face was pale, strained with disbelief and regret.

      “Callie, this is a damned shame.” Patrick exhaled a heavy breath. There wasn’t a hell of a lot more to say. Not at this point. He had no idea what case Grainger had been working any more than he knew any personal contacts that might have brought her to this place.

      Callie dipped her head in acknowledgment of his inadequate words. “Patrick, I believe you know most of my team.” She indicated her associates who had emerged from the vehicle. “Miguel Acevedo, Bart Fleming and Bobby O’Shea.”

      Patrick shook the hand of each man in turn and offered his sincere condolences. He’d worked with about every member of the crime unit the past couple of years. The Four Corners area had needed a crime lab for a good long while before the powers that be finally had the sense to make it a reality. Times like this were the reason. Every single member of the team had made Kenner County home; they knew the land and its people. In the past, law enforcement had had to rely on state facilities from as far away as Denver.

      These folks would get the job done quickly and thoroughly with the kind of knowledge only gained through life experience with the people and the land. That the victim was one of their own made their work this morning more than a job.

      This was personal.

      Faces grim, the team gathered their gear and donned protective wear. There would be little Patrick could do until their work was finished. The crime lab unit was made up of a number of other highly trained personnel. Though Patrick had worked with each of them at one time or another, he dealt primary with Callie on the vast majority of cases.

      As personal as this case was, Patrick didn’t worry about those personal feelings getting in the way. The Kenner County Crime Unit was small in size and funds were limited for equipment, but the scientists and technicians were top-notch. The best of the best. Particularly Callie.

      Patrick stayed out of the way and let them do their job. The extended moment of silence as the group acknowledged their fallen colleague was painful to watch. Callie MacBride in particular appeared shaken to the very core. Patrick wondered if she’d known the victim personally as well as professionally. That possibility was very likely, considering the whole staff operated as much as a family as a team of colleagues.

      While Callie’s people did their work, Patrick turned his attention to the Ute guide who had discovered the body. He doubted the man had seen anything but there were questions that needed to be asked. Like why he’d called the Towaoc police and then put in an anonymous call to 9-1-1, evidently some minutes later.

      With that in mind, Patrick started in his direction. Bree was interviewing СКАЧАТЬ