Dance of the Bones

“Really,” Dan resumed after a pause. “You can’t expect the two of us to go after him on our own.”


“I know all about Tombstone courage,” Brandon said, acknowledging Dan’s warning, “but if Henry is holding Lani hostage, do you want cars with sirens blaring and cops with guns running around all over the place? Besides, by my count, with the dogs in our corner, it’s four to one. Where are you?”

“I stopped at Three Points. If Henry’s headed to Mexico, Sasabe would be the nearest border crossing. If he’s headed north, he might have cut across to I--10 at Cortaro Road. Okay. I’ve got the Calle de Justicia address in my GPS. It’ll take me forty--five minutes at least. If you want it to be four to one, you’ll have to wait until Hulk and I get there.”

“Got it,” Brandon said. “And for God’s sake, do not speed. None of us can afford a speeding ticket right now, most especially Lani.”

A FURIOUS AVA MARCHED ACROSS the room to the front door, banging her walker on the tile. Henry had parked out on the driveway instead of in the garage? What in the world was the matter with the man? What was he thinking?

At the door she paused for a moment and got herself back under control. A steaming--mad Ava Richland would never pass for an ailing Jane Dobson. Only when she had herself fully in hand did she turn the key in the dead bolt.

Henry stood on her doorstep, holding up a gym bag and looking sheepish.

“Did you get the shipment?” she demanded.

He nodded.

“And Tim’s taken care of?”

He nodded again.

“Well, come in then,” she said, standing aside. “Why didn’t you use the garage?”

“I left the clicker in the other car,” he said.

Ava hadn’t turned on the porch light. She peered out the door. In the dim light, she caught sight of a strange car parked in the middle of her driveway. She sighed. She’d have to move it into the garage as soon as possible, but for right now, she supposed it was fine to leave it where it was. She didn’t want Henry to think she was overly anxious or that anything was amiss.

“That’s all to the good, then,” she said, trying to sound relieved. “Come have a seat. I know for a fact that you’ve had a tough -couple of days.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Henry muttered.

Ava smiled her most reassuring smile. “I think this calls for a bit of a celebration, don’t you?” she asked. “If you’re hungry, I’ve got a tray of cold cuts out in the kitchen.”

“No,” he said. “I’m fine.”

“Well, at least have a drink with me. I’m drinking wine this evening, but let’s have a toast together. What do you say?”

Henry crossed the room ahead of her and took a seat at the end of the sofa that was farthest away from her chair and the side table with her wineglass on it. He set the gym bag down on the floor. Opening it, he dragged the peanut butter jar out of the bag and set it on the coffee table.

“It wasn’t easy, but here it is. What about Max?”

“Don’t worry about him,” Ava said. “Max José is no longer an issue.”

She studied Henry. She had met him on any number of occasions over the years. There was something slightly off about him tonight. By her count, he’d done away with four -people in the last twenty--four hours, so maybe he had a right to be slightly jittery. After all, Ava herself hadn’t been ready to dance the light fandango after she took out Amos and Kenneth. The same thing had been true after she’d helped Clarence step off the bank into that flash flood in Pantano Wash; she hadn’t felt altogether perky after that one, either. Right this minute she was relieved that today she was able to walk away from Harold and simply let nature run its course.

She lifted her glass. “A toast,” she said, “to you and to a difficult job well done.”

With immense satisfaction she watched Henry pour a healthy shot of tequila into the glass and pick up a piece of lime. “A job well done,” he agreed.