“No, you can’t,” Joanna agreed. “Let me see what I can do to get you some temporary help until we know how things stand.”

Her next call was to her former in-laws. Jim Bob Brady answered the phone. “I need a favor,” Joanna said.

“Name it,” Jim Bob returned.

When she finished explaining the situation, Jim Bob was all business. “I’ll be glad to do what I can,” he said. “And Eva Lou will, too. She’s great with animals. We’ll go out to the pound right now and find out what’s needed.”

“How is Eva Lou with snakes?” Joanna asked.

“Did you say snakes?” Jim Bob asked.

“Yes, one of the impounded animals happens to be an abandoned python.”

“Well,” Jim Bob said thoughtfully, “I may have to take care of that one. But don’t worry about it. I’m sure Manny Ruiz will be able to tell us whatever it is he needs us to do.”

Joanna hung up the phone thankful that Jim Bob and Eva Lou Brady continued to be far more supportive and helpful than Margaret and Don Dixon would ever be.

When she finally got out of her car, the rest area was already teeming with activity. In fact, she was the last person from her department to arrive on the scene.

Stamping his feet against the frosty morning chill, Frank Montoya hurried over to meet her. “What have we got?” she asked.

Frank shook his head grimly. “Come take a look,” he said.

Jeannine’s Animal Control truck was parked at the far end of the parking area. Approaching it from the driver’s side, nothing seemed amiss. But the passenger-side window, out of view from passing vehicles, was completely missing. Joanna had to stand on tiptoe to peer inside. A bloodied rock the size of a basketball lay on the passenger seat. The police radio had been pulled from its console. It lay, its wire dangling loose, on the floorboard along with a clipboard, a single shoe, and other debris.

“What’s that?” Joanna asked, pointing. “A nightscope?”

“That’s right,” Frank said. “She must have been using that inside the vehicle when her attacker surprised her, probably by heaving that rock through the window. She never had time to call for help, but from the looks of things, she put up a hell of a fight.”

Everything around Joanna-Jeannine’s shoe in the footwell, the bloodied rock on the seat, the bare mesquite branches beyond the truck, and the looming, bubble-shaped rocks of Texas Canyon-stood out in a kind of stark relief that reminded Joanna of photos observed through her old View-Master. The idea that one of her officers had been attacked and perhaps murdered left Joanna sick at heart but furious and utterly focused.

“Did it happen here?” she asked.

“No,” Frank said. “Whoever did it drove the truck here after the attack.”

“Because they didn’t want us to identify a crime scene?” Joanna asked.

“That would be my guess,” Frank said. “They also took off and left the engine running. It’s out of gas.”

“So whoever abandoned it did so in a hell of a hurry,” Joanna said.

Frank nodded. “Being in a hurry breeds mistakes. With any luck, maybe we’ll find that they left a little something behind- something we can use to find them. Once Jaime finishes taking his photos, Casey will start dusting for prints.”

“Any witnesses?”

“It was called in at six forty-five a.m. by a maintenance guy who stops by early to service the rest rooms. He saw the truck and thought it was unusual for the vehicle to be here with no sign of an officer present. Ernie Carpenter is interviewing him right now. Some of the long-haul drivers may have been parked here overnight. Debbie is checking with them to see if any of them noticed something out of line.”

With nothing much else to do, Joanna stood on the sidelines while her people worked. It was only half an hour later when the first of the Tucson-based television news vans, its top bristling with antennas, arrived on the scene. Most of the time Frank handled the media types. Since he was conferring with the crime scene investigators, Joanna stepped forward to head off a swift-footed female news reporter who was followed by a cameraman.

“Sorry,” Joanna said. “No unauthorized personnel beyond this point.”

The woman stopped and then held up her ID. Isabel Duarte was with KGUN-9 News, but Joanna recognized her on sight without having to check her identification. She was young- barely out of college-and the newest member on the news team, but Joanna had seen her before out on the campaign trail as well as on the air.

“Sheriff Brady?” Isabel asked. “We heard that one of your deputies is missing. Is that true?”

The lens of the video cam was already focused on Joanna with its red light showing. “Not a deputy,” she corrected. “One of my ACOs.”

Isabel looked puzzled. “ACO?”

“Animal control officer,” Joanna explained. “Her vehicle was found abandoned here a little over an hour ago, and yes, she is missing. Chief Deputy Montoya, my media relations officer, won’t be making any further statements until later. Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

Joanna started back toward her team of investigators, but Isabel didn’t take the hint. Instead, she followed right on Joanna’s heels. “Did you say a female officer? How old is she? Anglo? Hispanic?”

Shaking her head and trying to keep her temper in check, Joanna turned back to the pushy reporter. She was gratified to see that the cameraman had stayed behind.

“Look, Ms. Duarte,” Joanna said. “I appreciate that you have a job to do, but so do we. As I just told you, my department won’t have any further comment until later in the day. We’re all very busy right now.”

“Please, Sheriff Brady,” Isabel insisted. “Tell me how old she is.”

“How old? Early thirties.”

“Anglo?”

“Yes, but I’m not releasing the name, if that’s what you’re looking for.”

“I just came from University Medical Center,” Isabel Duarte replied. “About three o’clock this morning, an unconscious Anglo female-badly beaten-was dropped off at the entrance to the Trauma Unit. Two men in a pickup truck went running into the hospital, screaming for help. Neither of them spoke any English. The clerk I talked to said she was sure they were illegals. They claimed that they didn’t know the woman; that they had found her lying naked along the side of the road and brought her to the hospital because they were afraid she was going to die. They had transported her, wrapped in blankets, in a camper shell on the back of a pickup. A third man was in the camper with her. When the attendants took the woman inside, the three guys in the pickup took off.”

Was it possible that the unidentified woman was actually Jeannine Phillips? “Early thirties?” Joanna asked. “Anglo?”

Isabel nodded. “Stocky build. She was in surgery when I left. The hospital was giving out information in hopes of identifying her.”

“Do you have the phone number?” Joanna asked.

In answer, Isabel simply opened her cell phone, punched it a couple of times, and then handed it over. Moments later, Joanna was speaking to UMC’s information officer. “This is Cochise County Sheriff Joanna Brady. One of my female officers has gone missing, and I’m wondering if the woman who was dropped off there earlier…”

In the course of the next minute and a half, with Isabel Duarte looking on, Joanna was passed from one staff member to another. Finally she found herself speaking to Dr. Grant Waller.

“I’m given to understand you may be acquainted with our unidentified patient?” he asked.

“That’s right,” Joanna said. “One of my ACOs disappeared after the close of her shift last night. I was wondering if…”

“The woman who was brought here early this morning has come through surgery,” Dr. Waller replied. “She’s currently in grave but stable condition.”

“Is she going to be all right?” Joanna asked.

The doctor’s tone shifted and became more distant. “Due to privacy constraints,” he said, “I’m unable to tell you any more about the severity of the patient’s injuries, but I will say that if she had arrived at our emergency room even twenty minutes later than she did, you and I wouldn’t be having this conversation.”