“Yes sir.”
***
Lee stopped his car at the gate and got out to open it. He flipped the latch on the gate and watched it swing open as he took out his phone and called Kincaid. Hunter answered, “Hey, Lee. What’s up?”
“I found some gum. Looks like the old Double Bubble stuff. Pink as a baby’s butt.”
“Do you always look under school desks for old gum while you’re on duty?”
“Har har.”
“Where’d you find it?”
“At Kinney’s. Maybe a hundred yards or so up the road. The guy spit it out the window of his vehicle, looks like.”
“So, you’ve got something with DNA.”
“I’m thinking so. I found a cell phone, too. How about that?”
“Dang, you’re good. Did I ever tell you that?”
“Keep up the flattery. I’ll soak it in.”
“It’ll be sweet to find out who those guys are.”
“Yep. As soon as I get through this gate and the other three just to get to pavement—”
Hunter heard a sudden, “Ahh!” on the phone, followed by the clatter of the phone dropping. Hunter said, “Lee? Lee!” There was silence, then the faint sounds of labored breathing.
“LEE!” Hunter screamed into the phone. There was no answer but his ragged, irregular breathing. Hunter realized she was standing, and there was nothing she could do. “Where are you? Tell me and we’ll send the copters! Where are you?” She wiped her eyes as she talked, and used her other hand to dial 911 on her home phone.
She heard a strangled gasp and Lee gagging on something wet, then his voice came on, very weak, “…post at Wardlaw’s gate.... Covered it…”
“Help’s coming! Hold on!” She heard the sound of someone’s foot near the phone, then a muffled crunch, and nothing after that. She told 911 of the situation as she grabbed her keys and went out the door, using her cell to call the Border Patrol station and alert them. Five minutes later, she belted in the observer’s seat of a helicopter and they lifted off fast as the pilot, Mike Turk, pushed the machine to the limit.
Turk said, “Where do we need to go?”
“He said he was just going into Wardlaw’s ranch, but I don’t know which gate or what pasture.”
Turk nudged the stick and they changed course. “We’ll fly the fence line; that will get us to him faster.” Hunter nodded and looked out the window. She suddenly realized her hands were clenched in fists, so she relaxed them. Every time she thought of Lee, her hands clenched again. Thirty minutes into the flight, Hunter used the stabilized binoculars to look ahead, and a glint of sunlight off a window caught her attention. It was Lee’s Presidio County Suburban.
Turk radioed the GPS coordinates to the other agencies as he feathered the copter to a soft landing. Hunter slid out and ran bent over to avoid the rotors until she was clear.
Lee was dead, she could tell that from thirty feet away. The blood pool was far too large for him to be alive. She slowed to a walk, stopped ten feet from him, and knelt to look over the area. The gate hung open, like Lee had said, and faint footprints entered and exited through the gap in the fence. His broken iPhone lay near his outstretched hand, and Hunter saw the same footprints near it and around his body. She snapped photos with her phone as she walked around her friend.
Mike Turk came to her and said, “You want me to check the other side?”
“No, I’ll do better reading it by myself.” Turk walked to the Deputy’s car and looked it over while Hunter continued around the body. She saw where someone dug up something by the gatepost. “Hey, Mike, I’m going to follow these tracks for a bit.”
“Make sure you keep your hand close to that pistol. This is some bad juju.”
Hunter had no problem following the imprints while they were in the dirt road, but when they angled away, she slowed so she didn’t miss the tracks as they walked through an area of cactus, greasewood, rocks, and knobby outcrops of stone.
The tracks led in a circle around a small, hundred-foot high hill. The indentations of helicopter skids showed clear in the alluvial soil. The footprints ended there. Hunter found where two men climbed the hill, so she went up to see if anything was left behind.
A .308 cartridge casing lay several feet from the indentations showing where the sniper lay on his stomach. Hunter marked the deeper indentations where the right knee canted to the side, and where the elbows rested on the ground. “You’re the one who killed my friend.” Hunter said to the spot. “And I’m going to find you.” She took photos, then descended the hill and returned to the body.
The Sheriff’s department people arrived ten minutes later, and Hunter thought it must have been every deputy on the force. The Highway Patrol Troopers arrived next, followed by the area constables and the Border Patrol. Everyone stood together in silence.