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Luke and thin. His skin was tan, creased, and leathery, like someone who spent a lot of time in the sun. From his sharp jawline to his thin frame, there was nothing soft about him; he was all hard angles. His bald head sported a couple of scars and a clean Band-Aid on the right side.
    “Yes, here’s my identification.” Luke pulled out his ID and handed it to the man, reaching over the gate, hoping he’d take it. That would give Luke the opportunity to look at his hands.
    The old man did what Luke hoped: reached out and took the ID. Luke saw faded ink splotches on the man’s knuckles. He’d read that the tattoos originally spelled HATE on the right and COPS on the left. A blurry H was all Luke could make out for certain. Further up on the left arm was another tat. It could have been a woman, but on the old, wrinkled arm, it was just a blotchy mess.
    Luke had his man. His pulse jumped, not with fear, but with satisfaction that this trip had been a success, in spite of his doubts. He and Woody had discussed the possibility and plannedto return to the sheriff’s office, tell them what they’d found, and let law enforcement proceed with the arrest. Montana would extradite, so Luke knew the sheriff would make an arrest.
    All I have to do is ask a couple of inane questions, say good-bye, pick Woody up, and head back to the sheriff.
    “And what do you want with me, Mr. Murphy?” The old guy looked up at him and handed back the ID.
    “I’m looking for Dan Parker. Does he live here?”
    “Dan Parker?” The man chuckled. “That’s a name I haven’t heard in a long time.”
    “Do you know him?”
    Something in the man’s demeanor changed   —it was subtle, but Luke caught it and it made his guard go up. He wished he’d parked his truck closer. There was no cover out here if this leathery fugitive got contentious. It was not Luke’s job to get into a confrontation, especially out here in the middle of nowhere. If the man had a weapon, elderly or not, he was dangerous.
    The deputy’s voice saying, “Dead zone” rang in Luke’s ears. Yeah, he thought, and a great place to hide bodies. His and Woody’s.
    “I used to know him. What’s he done? What do you want him for?”
    “I don’t want him at all. Someone in Arizona is looking for him. I’m just doing an Arizona PI a favor.” He gave a generic explanation about the woman’s call and professional courtesy.
    The man took a step back and rubbed his chin. “Do you want to come in the yard and look around?”
    “No,” Luke said, “I’ll take your word on it. You have an honest face. Is Parker here?”
    The man seemed to think about it, leaning on his cane andstudying Luke. For his part Luke watched as conflicting emotions crossed the man’s face. An angry frown gave way to resignation, he thought.
    “What took you so long?” he asked after a long minute.
    “You’re Oscar, aren’t you?” Luke asked by reflex, hands at his sides, balanced stance, bracing himself for whatever might come next.
    Nodding, the man leaned his left hand on the cane and reached into his pocket with his right. Out came a small handgun   —a .22, Luke guessed as he stared down the barrel.

CHAPTER
- 3-
    “HEY! Earth to Molly. You with me here?”
    Molly shook her head to clear the confusion from her mind and turned to face her partner.
    “Yeah, yeah, I’m with you.” Am I? she wondered as she bent to help him with the ambulance stretcher after tossing the emergency equipment bags on top. They pulled the gurney from the back of the ambulance and jerked it toward the crash, to the scene that had captured her attention and sent her insides twisting into a fist of paralyzing fear.
    They were on a lonely stretch of two-lane highway out in the desert, crowded now with emergency vehicles, lights flashing, and stinking with the acrid smell of flares. It was a single-car crash; the driver probably fell asleep and wrapped the car around a tree.
    Firefighters had ripped the crushed