Judgment Call (37 page)

“I'm sorry,” Joanna said, and she truly was sorry. “Michael isn't here. That was just a trick.”

“A trick?” Isadora asked uncomprehendingly. “What do you mean, a trick?”

“I had to do something to keep James looking in this direction.”

“Oh,” Isadora said as a sob of disappointment rose in her throat. “I was so hoping he was here. I really want to meet him.”

With that Isadora fainted dead away.

SEEING ISADORA'S PASTY WHITE FACE, JOANNA DIALED DISPATCH
again.

“I've got a serious casualty here,” Joanna said. “Are any of those visiting EMT crews still in the area?”

Medical teams from Sierra Vista, Tombstone, and Douglas had all responded to the accident scene in Upper Bisbee.

“I think one of the units from Sierra Vista may still be there, or they might just be leaving. I'll try to divert them in your direction.”

Hurrying over to the dead limo, Joanna opened the door and pushed the trunk release. She was gratified to see an emergency kit that included a lightweight blanket that looked more like tinfoil than cloth. She was just covering Isadora with that when Jaime Carbajal jogged into the clearing. He was the first member of Joanna's ERT to arrive on the scene, and he looked worried.

“Dispatch said someone was hurt,” he said. “Who is it? One of ours? What happened?”

“Isadora Creswell,” Joanna said. “Broken hip. I've called for a helicopter, but I've also called for any EMTs in the area to show up. Could you go help direct them?”

Joanna turned back to Isadora, who seemed to have regained consciousness. “Stay with us,” she urged. “Help is coming.”

Isadora whispered something that Joanna didn't quite catch. She leaned closer. “Say again?”

“Hurts,” Isadora said.

Joanna nodded. “I'm sure it does.”

“Could be worse,” Isadora added through gritted teeth. “Broke my bad hip, though, not the one they already fixed.”

Somewhere behind her, Joanna heard the distinctive squawk of an arriving ambulance. Joanna had some first-aid training, but not enough for a situation this serious. She was glad to know that professionals were in the near neighborhood.

Joanna dialed Dispatch again. “Any ETA on that MedEvac?” she asked.

“They're at least thirty minutes out,” Tica replied. “Maybe longer.”

Just then, to Joanna's relief, Jaime jogged back into the clearing, followed by two uniformed EMTs, one of them carrying a full kit.

Isadora was gone again. Kneeling beside her one of the EMTs asked, “What's her name?”

“Isadora,” Joanna answered. “She may have a broken hip. I covered her because I thought she was going into shock.”

“Okay,” he said. “We'll take over from here. Isadora,” he called, “can you hear me?”

Joanna was more than happy to relinquish her spot next to Isadora. By then the rest of the Emergency Response Team had made it into the clearing as well. They were clustered around Deb, who was busy hauling James Cameron to his feet.

“There's a knife around here somewhere,” Joanna told Jaime. “He had a switchblade and was threatening to carve Isadora up with it when Deb whacked him on the back of the head with her shotgun.”

“So no shots were fired?” Jaime asked anxiously.

“That's right,” Joanna said. “No shots, and we both know that's going to make our lives a whole lot easier.”

There was a complicated protocol for the aftermath of officer-involved shootings, and that was something Joanna was happy to avoid right about then. Once the media got hold of the story, a thump on the head was always a lot easier to explain than a stray bullet or two. While Jaime took off his ERT gear and resumed his more customary role of detective, Joanna hurried over to where Deb Howell was in the process of reading James Gunnar Cameron his rights.

Just then two people Joanna hadn't expected to see burst through the scrub oak and into the clearing. Sue Ellen Hirales was followed by a young man Joanna had never seen before, one who had to be Isadora's great-grandson, Michael.

“Chief Bernard told us what was going on,” the young man said. “Where is she?” Surrounded by the EMTs, Isadora was entirely invisible from where he stood. “Is she all right?”

Joanna stepped forward. “I'm Sheriff Brady,” she explained. “Isadora was injured. She's over there,” she added, nodding in the direction of the EMTs. “Most likely a broken hip. The ambulance crew from Sierra Vista is looking after her for now, but we've called for a MedEvac helicopter to take her to Tucson. They should be here soon.”

“What happened to her?” Michael asked.

The question was most likely intended for Joanna, but James Cameron was the one who answered. “I kicked her,” he sneered. “Like I'd kick a rabid dog if I had to. She deserved it, and so did my sister. Believe me, Alyse Creswell deserved whatever she got.”

Michael looked first at him and then back to Joanna. “This is my birth mother's half brother?” he asked. “This is the man who killed her?”

Before anyone could answer the question, Sue Ellen Hirales flung herself at James Gunnar Cameron, ready to deck the man with her bare fists. “You son of a—”

Only a lightning-quick response on Michael's part kept the blows from landing.

“It's all right, Sue Ellen,” he said, grasping her arm and holding her back. “Leave him be. Come on. We've got better things to do. Let's go meet my great-grandmother.”

While Sue Ellen allowed herself to be led away, Joanna turned back to her officers. The sudden ending of the confrontation left her almost light-headed as the adrenaline rush dissipated. She paused and had to take a few deep breaths before she was able to begin issuing orders.

“Mr. Cameron here has received several serious blows to the head this afternoon,” she told Deb. “Stop by the ER at the hospital on your way to the Justice Center. They're going to be busy, but we need to have someone check him out for a possible concussion and maybe stitch up the cut on his eye before you book him. For right now, he's to be jailed on suspicion of two counts of homicide and one count of vehicular homicide. He told us a little while ago that he doesn't care if he lives or dies, so I want to be sure he's under a suicide watch.”

“Got it,” Deb said.

Just then, Jaime approached Joanna, holding the switchblade in a gloved hand. “This is the suspect's knife?” he asked.

Joanna nodded. “That's it.” When James had been holding it, the knife had seemed much larger and much more lethal than it did as Jaime first slipped it into an evidence bag and then, lacking a collection box, dropped the bag into a pocket of his jacket. By then Deb and Deputy Lang were in the process of setting off toward the vehicles with James Cameron locked between them. Jaime hurried after them.

“Hey, Deb,” Jaime called, “hold up a minute.”

“Why?”

“I want to check something out.”

Approaching the prisoner, Jaime pulled up one of the sleeves on his jacket. From the cuff of his sleeve down, James Cameron's skin was fine. From the cuff up, however, his lower arm was covered with a tangled map of scratches.

Nodding, Jaime dropped the sleeve back in place. “That's what I thought,” he said. “Just before all hell broke loose in town, Dr. Machett and I were finishing up with Maggie Oliphant's autopsy. There was all kinds of DNA evidence under her nails. She evidently fought her assailant like crazy. He was wearing gloves, so his hands aren't damaged, but his forearms are.”

“Okay,” Joanna said, finally switching gears out of confrontational mode and into analysis. “Detective Howell, when you book him, be sure you collect a DNA sample. I want that sample at the crime lab in Tucson ASAP. Got it?”

“Yes, ma'am,” Detective Howell answered. “It'll be there this afternoon if I have to drive it up myself.”

“Crap!” someone exclaimed behind her.

Joanna turned and found Police Chief Alvin Bernard examining the damaged limo. “I suppose my department is going to be stuck with the towing bill.”

“You've probably got the limo for vehicular homicide inside the city limits. All I've got in the county is property damage, but I'll flip you for it,” she offered.

Chief Bernard was peering at damage on the passenger side of the windshield, where it looked as though a rock might have broken the glass. “I'd say this is where my victim's head hit the glass,” he said, “so no, this one is mine. I'll handle it.”

“How are things in town?”

“Still a mess,” Bernard conceded. “We've asked the Arizona Department of Public Safety to assist with their accident-investigation team, but since it's a fatality incident, that process is going to take hours. Tombstone Canyon is still closed to all traffic. Residents of the area are being allowed through, but we're continuing to divert all other traffic away from Upper Bisbee. Your mother came down from Horace Mann to give me an earful about it because, in her opinion, I was single-handedly wrecking some event or another. I doubt that's news to you. I suppose you're already aware that your mother can be a bit of a handful on occasion.”

Joanna nodded. Eleanor Lathrop Winfield had always been a handful.

While Joanna and Chief Bernard had been talking, the Sierra Vista ambulance eased past the wrecked limo. “What's going on?” Joanna asked when Jaime came by again as well.

“The helicopter is almost here. The EMT crew thinks there's more room for them to land in the next clearing over than there is here. They've splinted her hip and stabilized it as well as they can. Now they're going to use the ambulance to transport her to wherever the chopper is able to land to pick her up.”

While Joanna watched, a gurney with Isadora strapped to it was loaded into the ambulance. Once she was inside, Michael climbed in with her. With the blades of the arriving helicopter pounding overhead, the ambulance eased itself toward the next clearing while Sue Ellen came back to where Joanna was standing.

“She's something, isn't she?” Sue Ellen said admiringly. “She told them she wasn't going unless Michael went with her, and she was absolutely adamant about it. I'm guessing it'll be the same way with the helicopter. If he doesn't go, she doesn't go. No wonder Debra was so stubborn. The EMTs told me that the MedEvac crew will take her to TMC. Depending on the break, they may be able to do hip replacement surgery immediately or they may have to delay it. Either way, TMC is the best place for her. I told Michael I'd follow in the car and be there as fast as I can.”

Joanna's phone rang. Caller ID told her it was her chief deputy. For a split second, she was worried that James Gunnar Cameron might have made some kind of break for it, but that wasn't the problem.

“Hey, boss,” Tom Hadlock said. “Deb just told me that the whole top of the Divide is crawling with media vans. I have no idea how they got there so fast, but they did. Who's going to talk to them? I can come up there and do it if you want, but …”

“No,” Joanna said. “You stay put and make sure Mr. Cameron gets booked into the lockup. This set of media relations is on me and Chief Bernard. We'll handle it together.”

That's what they did, standing side by side in the clearing at the top of the Divide with the scrub-oak-studded red rock cliffs of the Mule Mountains glowing in the background. They didn't say much, only enough to get by. A suspect in two homicides as well as the afternoon's carjacking incident had been taken into custody without incident. Because Cameron had not yet been officially charged with any crime, his name would not be released. An elderly female relative of the suspect's had been injured and was currently being airlifted to Tucson.

That was Joanna's part of the proceedings. Chief Bernard's was a bit more complex. He had to deal with the ongoing traffic issues in town as well as with the fact that victims of the vehicular assault had been transported to various hospitals in the area. No names of any of the victims, including the fatality, could be released pending notification of next of kin.

By the time the impromptu press conference ended, Dave Hollicker had arrived to do the crime scene investigation. “Hey,” she told him, “you guys don't need me hanging around and getting in the way. It's been a tough weekend so far, and I'm going to go home. If somebody wants to interview me, that's where I'll be.”

It sounded good, but there was one problem. Joanna's Yukon was still parked in the lot at Horace Mann School.

“Hey, Chief Bernard,” she called after him before he had a chance to get away. “Would you mind giving me a ride back down the canyon? I left my car in the art league parking lot, and I need to go pick it up.”

“I will on one condition,” he said.

“What's that?”

“If your mother comes out to the parking lot, you have to deal with her instead of me.”

“Fair enough,” Joanna said. “Let's go.”