jail.”
Damn, I was sorry I’d missed that . “What happened? He looked healthy when he talked to me, so you obviously didn’t break his neck.”
“We came to an understanding.”
That must have been an interesting clash of wills. Nash had been Special Forces in the army, and he liked to run things his own way. His sense of his own rightness was unshakable.
“Why is a jerk like him working for our county, anyway?” I asked. “Can’t you arrest him for something?”
“Not until he commits a crime.” By the tone of Nash’s voice, he’d thought about it and wished he could.
“People aren’t exactly signing up to work out here in the back of beyond,” Maya said. “Counties with bigger populations pay better. So why is he here?”
“Maybe he likes the quiet life,” I said.
Maya snorted. “No one likes things this quiet. Maybe no one else would hire him.”
That was more likely. Hopi County was small, sparsely populated, and far from cities. Most people didn’t even know we existed, except that Magellan had the reputation for being steeped in woo-woo magic. The biggest industry in the county was magical tourism—though I knew that the tourists saw the façade, the fake magic. They wouldn’t be able to handle the real magic.
“He’s nuts if he wants this all done in a week,” Maya said. “I’ll need to order more supplies. Besides, he’s a liar if he says there’s anything wrong with my wiring.”
I believed her, just as I’d believed Fremont. “Could you take a look, though? To prove it’s fine? Then I can get a lawyer and rub Ted’s face in it.”
“Be careful of Wingate, Janet,” Nash said. “I got him to back down, but he’s a troublemaker, the kind who will use the letter of the law to get at people. If he comes after you, it won’t be pretty.”
I knew that. Strange, I usually only feared people with powerful magics, but plain old Ted had me sweating.
Nash ended the discussion by standing. “You can take me to work, Janet. I agree I shouldn’t drive until the dizziness goes away, but Maya won’t take me anywhere.”
“Damn you.” Maya jumped up with him.
Nash walked away from her down the long hall toward the bedrooms in the back of the house. Maya started to follow, then stopped, looking unhappy, when Nash shut his bedroom door in her face.
“Take me out to the highway,” Nash said as we pulled away from his house. “The one to Holbrook. I want to look at the scene.” He’d dressed in his sheriff’s uniform, every crease knife-sharp, his boots shining. He wore a heavy uniform coat against the January cold and his usual black sunglasses against the glare.
“Why?”
“For my report. I want to see it.”
“Big hole, lots of debris. Mick went out there last night—he said he found nothing.” And Mick had returned home acting strangely, and I hadn’t seen him since. I didn’t bother mentioning that.
“Mick had no business being out there. The area’s cordoned off. A danger zone.”
“Like police tape is going to stop Mick. He’s a fire-breathing dragon, remember?”
“Yes.” Nash’s lips firmed. “Now I want to see what I can find. Turn here.”
I took the backstreet he pointed to and, after dipping through a wash, emerged on an intersection with the highway. I guessed that Nash had probably asked Maya to drive him out here and Maya had refused. Maya Medina was the only person in Hopi County who could stand up to Nash Jones and get away with it.
About three miles down the highway we reached a barricade. Lopez had closed the road here, but I drove around the barrier through the dirt at Nash’s instruction and proceeded to the site.
Six
I hadn’t gotten a good look at the hole I’d fallen into, and now that I was standing on its edge, I was glad I hadn’t. The fact that Nash and I had survived at all was a frigging miracle.
A hole about forty feet wide gaped across the highway and into the desert beyond it. Asphalt buckled at the
Damn, I was sorry I’d missed that . “What happened? He looked healthy when he talked to me, so you obviously didn’t break his neck.”
“We came to an understanding.”
That must have been an interesting clash of wills. Nash had been Special Forces in the army, and he liked to run things his own way. His sense of his own rightness was unshakable.
“Why is a jerk like him working for our county, anyway?” I asked. “Can’t you arrest him for something?”
“Not until he commits a crime.” By the tone of Nash’s voice, he’d thought about it and wished he could.
“People aren’t exactly signing up to work out here in the back of beyond,” Maya said. “Counties with bigger populations pay better. So why is he here?”
“Maybe he likes the quiet life,” I said.
Maya snorted. “No one likes things this quiet. Maybe no one else would hire him.”
That was more likely. Hopi County was small, sparsely populated, and far from cities. Most people didn’t even know we existed, except that Magellan had the reputation for being steeped in woo-woo magic. The biggest industry in the county was magical tourism—though I knew that the tourists saw the façade, the fake magic. They wouldn’t be able to handle the real magic.
“He’s nuts if he wants this all done in a week,” Maya said. “I’ll need to order more supplies. Besides, he’s a liar if he says there’s anything wrong with my wiring.”
I believed her, just as I’d believed Fremont. “Could you take a look, though? To prove it’s fine? Then I can get a lawyer and rub Ted’s face in it.”
“Be careful of Wingate, Janet,” Nash said. “I got him to back down, but he’s a troublemaker, the kind who will use the letter of the law to get at people. If he comes after you, it won’t be pretty.”
I knew that. Strange, I usually only feared people with powerful magics, but plain old Ted had me sweating.
Nash ended the discussion by standing. “You can take me to work, Janet. I agree I shouldn’t drive until the dizziness goes away, but Maya won’t take me anywhere.”
“Damn you.” Maya jumped up with him.
Nash walked away from her down the long hall toward the bedrooms in the back of the house. Maya started to follow, then stopped, looking unhappy, when Nash shut his bedroom door in her face.
“Take me out to the highway,” Nash said as we pulled away from his house. “The one to Holbrook. I want to look at the scene.” He’d dressed in his sheriff’s uniform, every crease knife-sharp, his boots shining. He wore a heavy uniform coat against the January cold and his usual black sunglasses against the glare.
“Why?”
“For my report. I want to see it.”
“Big hole, lots of debris. Mick went out there last night—he said he found nothing.” And Mick had returned home acting strangely, and I hadn’t seen him since. I didn’t bother mentioning that.
“Mick had no business being out there. The area’s cordoned off. A danger zone.”
“Like police tape is going to stop Mick. He’s a fire-breathing dragon, remember?”
“Yes.” Nash’s lips firmed. “Now I want to see what I can find. Turn here.”
I took the backstreet he pointed to and, after dipping through a wash, emerged on an intersection with the highway. I guessed that Nash had probably asked Maya to drive him out here and Maya had refused. Maya Medina was the only person in Hopi County who could stand up to Nash Jones and get away with it.
About three miles down the highway we reached a barricade. Lopez had closed the road here, but I drove around the barrier through the dirt at Nash’s instruction and proceeded to the site.
Six
I hadn’t gotten a good look at the hole I’d fallen into, and now that I was standing on its edge, I was glad I hadn’t. The fact that Nash and I had survived at all was a frigging miracle.
A hole about forty feet wide gaped across the highway and into the desert beyond it. Asphalt buckled at the
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