Devil's Rock

by Gerri Hill

  “Just because they aren’t allowed doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. Could have come up here at night, dumped her then back down in less than an hour. Possible?”

  “Possible, yes. Probable, no. The trail is narrow and steep in places. What are the chances our killer is an experienced rider? A night trip up in a four-wheeler would take skill.”

  “You’re probably right, but it’s still something to consider. Maybe on our way down we could look for signs,” she suggested.

  Andrea looked up at the sun which was now higher in the sky, the summer heat starting to show itself. She had droplets of sweat on her forehead and Cameron watched as she took her cap off and shook out her hair.

  “Are you ready to head down?” Andrea asked. “We don’t want to be up here on the rim much longer. The heat radiates off the rocks making it feel about twenty degrees hotter than it is.”

  “Yeah, I’m done here.”

  The ride back down was made in relative silence, and Cameron enjoyed the views nearly as much as on the way up. The multitude of rock formations had her imagination jumping, but her mind kept going back to the same question: How did he get the body up here? Horseback seemed the logical answer, but it also was very risky. For that matter, taking a four-wheeler out on an equestrian trail was risky as well but not nearly as risky at night. Even if someone reported you, you could be back down and gone before anyone of authority showed up.

  “Can you get a signal up here?”

  “Cell?”

  “Yes.”

  “On a good day, yes.”

  She looked for signs along the trail to indicate a vehicle had traveled up the trail, but the red rocks and gravel all blended together, making it nearly impossible to tell if anything was disturbed. “Do you see anything that looks odd?”

  “No. But then it’s been nearly two months since she would have been dumped.”

  “Right. Making searching for anything futile.”

  “Pretty much.”

  “Who found her?”

  “Don’t know. A hiker. He called it in.”

  “You didn’t interview him?”

  “No. He called it in anonymously.”

  “Does Collie know that?”

  “I would assume. It’s in the file.”

  “Okay, so our killer dumps his first victim. Weeks go by, yet no one finds her. So, he dumps his second victim where she’s sure to be found. Still, his first one lays unnoticed.”

  “Oh my God. You think he’s the one who called it in?”

  Cameron nodded, knowing she needed to go back and read the file more thoroughly. “It’s possible. He wants credit for it, don’t you think? So he calls it in, you find it. Then, a week later, a third victim is found. By now, you of course know all three are linked.”

  “And serial killers want the notoriety. Three murders are better than two.”

  “And four is better than three and so on,” Cameron said. “Which leads us back to our question. How the hell did he get a body up here?”

  “I’ve been thinking about your four-wheeler possibility. This is an equestrian trail, obviously used by hikers as well,” Andrea said. “But farther north, there are four-wheeler trails. While the Rim Trail is essentially a loop around the canyon, there’s a connecting trail between this one and one used by four-wheelers. I’ve never been on it, but Joey’s hiked it before. He would know whether it’s passable for four-wheelers or not.”

  “Good. Because it makes this dumping more logical then. He carries her up on a four-wheeler. We assume at night. Gets off the main trail, takes the connecting one to the rim, dumps the body fairly close to the trail where he assumes it’ll be found rather easily.”

  “But it’s not.”

  “So he’s forced to call in the location himself.”

  Andrea grinned. “As scary as it seems, we’re thinking alike on this.”

  “That’s what partners do. They bounce ideas off each other.” As soon as the words were out, she saw a cloud cover Andrea’s face. Obviously, it was the wrong thing to say. Andrea gave a quick nod and continued down the trail, leaving Cameron to speculate on what caused the distressed look. It didn’t take much thought. Andrea had said she’d lost her whole team, which most likely meant her partner as well.

  And with that, too, Cameron could relate. She’d lost close friends, she’d lost lovers, and she’d lost partners. Yet, she survived, being forced to pick up new friends, new lovers. And yes, new partners. It was the most difficult—and painful—part of her job. Which was why she liked the current setup. She worked alone. There was no one to lose but herself.

  Chapter Ten

  Andrea stood near her Jeep and downed her second bottle of water, the heat of the summer day taking its toll on her. Agent Ross had left as soon as they’d made it back down Oak Creek Canyon, offering only a quiet “see you later.” That, of course, was fine with her. She wasn’t in the mood to chitchat.

  After they’d made it down the mountain from the Rim Trail and left their horses with Randy, she’d lost all her enthusiasm for the day. She’d hoped that Agent Ross would put off the other two sites. But no, they barely took a break before they were hiking up Oak Creek Canyon.

  And as before, Cameron marked the coordinates and entered them in her notebook computer along with the elevation. Andrea had watched her carefully as she studied each site, walking a wide circle, her eyes darting around, obviously looking for something—anything—that could be considered evidence. Andrea hadn’t interrupted her, even though she’d been over both sites several times herself.

  They’d hiked back down in near silence as Andrea had withdrawn again, not wanting to talk, afraid Cameron would say something to trigger old memories. She hadn’t had a partner, not since Erin. They patrolled alone here, not needing to ride in pairs. And even when they did, it wasn’t like she always went with Randy or always went with Joey, although they were her closest friends, if she’d even call them that. Other than Sheriff Baker, they had six deputies and Janet the receptionist who only worked part-time. Besides Jim, Randy and Joey, she had only a working relationship with the others, including Janet. And while Janet had always been cordial toward her, she suspected Janet was a bit of a homophobe. And Andrea could really care less. When she first arrived in Sedona, she hadn’t been in the right frame of mind to make friends and was content to live a solitary life. But Jim, Randy and Joey had slowly drawn her out, and she joined them often out socially. Little by little, she’d returned to normal.

  But today, when Cameron Ross had lightly tossed out the word “partner,” Andrea was taken back, her mind flashing to Erin—her partner and lover—as she lay covered in blood, her eyes, so cold and lifeless, staring up at nothing, both legs missing below the knees.

  “Christ,” she murmured, feeling her chest tighten as memories crashed in. She turned, staring out at Thunder Mountain, taking deep breaths as she tried to focus. She closed her eyes, imagining herself in the early morning, her feet moving effortlessly across the rock slab, her body going through its movements without thought, her mind’s eye watching as the sun rose above the canyon. Slowly, her tension eased, her anxiety lessened.

  She opened her eyes again, seeing Thunder Mountain in the late afternoon, the sun beating down on Sedona. Middle to upper nineties were normal for this time of year, but it would cool off nicely after the sun went down, cool enough for a light jacket some nights.

  She got in her Jeep, reminding herself that she’d missed her workout that morning. Perhaps that was why she let her emotions take over. After the incident—the ambush—she’d seen a therapist, hoping it would help her understand why her team was killed and she was left to live. They were a close-knit unit, and besides Erin, she’d also lost Mark, her best friend. They’d gone through the academy together, they rode patrol together in the early days, and they’d both made detective at the same time. At her urging, they both moved on to narcotics where she met Erin.

  But nothing could take her grief away, no
t even Mark’s wife, who—after the initial shock was over—sought out Andrea, perhaps knowing that Andrea was blaming herself, placing guilt where none belonged. She didn’t want anything to do with Paige, however. She didn’t want anything to do with anyone who reminded her of what she lost. When she realized her therapist wasn’t helping, her grief turned to despair. She had never felt so helpless, so hopeless, so terribly alone. Each day was a struggle to go on, almost to the point of giving up.

  In was quite by accident she found Tai Chi. The only solace she had at the time were solitary hikes in the mountains outside Los Angeles. She’d leave early, well before dawn, getting to the trailhead as the day was beginning. On one such hike, she saw him. He was standing high on the rocks, his arms spread out to the rising sun. When he went though his movements, he was graceful and elegant, and she thought it was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen.

  She began to study Tai Chi, learning the various forms of the art. She only took formal lessons for six months as she wasn’t interested in becoming an expert. She simply needed something to focus her energy on and she combined the meditation techniques she’d been studying with the Tai Chi movements she’d learned, creating her own form.

  When she felt strong enough—a year after the ambush—she left LA. She didn’t think she’d return to law enforcement, she didn’t think she’d be able to, but she soon learned she had no skills for anything else. Even then, she wasn’t certain she’d work again as no one would hire her. Apparently, the little incident with her captain labeled her a high risk.

  Fortunately, Jim Baker was willing to take a chance on her, even after she refused to discuss it with him, telling him her past was off limits. He hired her anyway. That was two years ago, the last of which—as she’d told Cameron—was almost normal. And every morning during those times, she’d hiked up Oak Creek Canyon to the rock slab, going through her routine, focusing on the present, not the past. Every morning, that is, until today.

  She wasn’t foolish enough to think that even if she had gone, Cameron’s words wouldn’t have had the same affect on her. But she realized it was something she still needed. Unfortunately, for the first time, she was on a case. She wouldn’t always have the opportunity for her early morning hike. For now, at least, she was at the mercy of Cameron Ross.

  And as much as she told herself she didn’t like the woman, that she was arrogant and conceited, she still knew she owed Cameron an explanation. Or at the very least, an apology. It was very presumptuous of her to assume she was the only one carrying around scars. But Cameron Ross was literally covered with them. In the few moments Cameron had stood before her in nothing but her sleek bra, Andrea had counted six wounds marring what was otherwise a beautiful body. The most prominent one, a huge slash of a scar from her shoulder across her torso, the black bra hiding the part that crossed her breast. The wound was obviously from a knife or a sword, and Andrea was surprised Cameron had survived it.

  She pulled into the driveway of the little house she rented, unmindful of the long neglected yard and flower beds. After living in apartments for so long, she thought she’d enjoy having the space of a small house, thought she might actually plant a flower or two. But it was one of those things she just never got around to. She went inside, the air cool, refreshing. She headed straight for her bedroom, shedding her clothes as she went. She was tired and hungry, but she lingered in the shower, closing her eyes and holding her face in the water, feeling a strange peacefulness settle over her. For once, her thoughts weren’t jumping in all directions as she tried to steer them away from that fateful night. No, for once, she felt focused. She felt like she had direction.

  She leaned back out of the water and opened her eyes. Yes, this was good. She had a case. She felt like she was actually doing police work, something she was trained to do. She had something to focus her mind and energy on, something other than the past.

  And if she had to suffer through a few days—or even weeks—of Cameron Ross, so be it. At least she had a purpose now. Amazing how trying to solve a murder could make her feel so alive.

  And inclined to talk. She left the house forty-five minutes later with a bottle of wine and an order placed for pizza. Jim said Cameron was staying out at Red Rocks Park. Why, Andrea had no idea. Surely she wasn’t camping, but she couldn’t imagine she was staying in the old, tiny cabins they rented. Well, didn’t matter. She’d find Sonny Winfield. He’d know where she was. Not much happened at Red Rocks without Sonny knowing about it.

  Chapter Eleven

  “I haven’t had a chance to look at it yet,” she said. “I just got out of the shower.”

  “Well, you were right. She’s got a few demons,” Murdock said.

  Cameron hesitated. She’d all but told Andrea she would not read the file, but now Murdock was tempting her with demons. “Give me the short version,” she said as she sat down and opened her laptop, smiling as the black ball of fur immediately joined her.

  “She and her team were supposed to be intercepting a drug deal. They had someone on the inside, had been working it for months. It was a setup. Her team was ambushed.”

  Cameron glanced through the file quickly, feeling a twinge of guilt as she read through it.

  “There was a blast and two of her team members landed on her. She was protected from the automatic weapon fire that the rest of her team suffered. Five killed.”

  “Protected? Says here she suffered two wounds.”

  Murdock cleared his throat. “Protected in that she didn’t die,” he said.

  Cameron smiled as she read more. “Wow. She pulled her weapon on her captain. How cool is that?”

  Murdock laughed. “Thought you’d like that part.”

  “Why are there two files?”

  “One is personal. I didn’t know how much you wanted. One of her team members, Erin Rogers—they were lovers.”

  Cameron hesitated, then decided not to open it. Losing your team is one thing, losing your lover quite another. No wonder Andrea Sullivan didn’t want to talk about it.

  “From what I gather, Sullivan was invested more in the relationship than Rogers.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Oh, read the file, Ross. I don’t want to get into all of that and it may not even be relevant. Let’s just say Rogers played the field and Andrea Sullivan had no idea.”

  “Great. So she’s suffering guilt because her lover was killed, yet her lover was—”

  “Sleeping with four other women.”

  “Wonderful.” She quickly closed the file she had opened. As Andrea had so bluntly told her earlier—it was none of her goddamn business.

  “They never found where the breakdown was, so no one was prosecuted. However, after the scene with her captain where she threatened to shoot him, well, she was relieved of her duties. She had a hell of a time finding another job.”

  “No doubt. Okay, Murdock. Thanks. I’ll read it more thoroughly later,” she said.

  “Anything new on the case?”

  “No. Collie?”

  “Yeah. But he’s supposed to call you and fill you in. Apparently, the crime scene in Tucson was faked. None of the blood belonged to the victim. DNA matched it to Sandy Reynolds, the student from Flagstaff.”

  “The first body found. He’s fucking with us.”

  “Amazing. You and Collie are more alike than you think. He said those very words.”

  “Don’t insult me.”

  “Anyway, he’s supposed to be in touch with you. And I let him know about the file I sent to the ME there. He wasn’t happy with you, but the ME in Phoenix said he’d have results in a day or so.”

  “Okay. I’ve got the particulars on the dump sites. I’ll start feeding the info and see what comes up.”

  “Keep me posted.”

  She sat there for a few minutes, listening to the gentle purring of the kitten as she rubbed its head. She decided having the cat was good for her. It brought a quiet peace to her life that had been sorely missin
g.

  She was about to get up and see what she had on hand for dinner when the silent alarm flashed, signaling an approach. She waited, curious to see how close someone would get. It was obvious she was there. Her truck was right outside, lights were on. She went into her small office and flipped on the monitor, surprised to see Andrea Sullivan outside. She nearly laughed as Andrea took several steps back as her warning was heard, followed by the sound of the shotgun.

  “Agent Ross? Are you there?” Andrea called.

  “She’s got pizza.” She glanced at the cat. “You think we should let her in?”

  “Cameron? I swear, if you have a shotgun pointing at me, I’ll kick your ass when I get in there.”

  She laughed outright at this, turning on the speaker as she flipped off the security. “As if you could kick my ass,” she said. “The security is off. Come on in.” She closed the doors to her office and locked it. Not that she didn’t trust Andrea Sullivan. She just wasn’t in the mood to explain what all the equipment was.

  “The only reason I let you in was for the pizza. I’m starving,” she said when Andrea stepped aboard.

  Andrea put the pizza and a bottle of wine on the counter and looked around. “What the hell is this?”

  “Home,” she said. “Home and office, actually.”

  “A motor home? The FBI has motor homes?”

  “It’s an experimental model,” she said, the enticing aroma of the pizza making her stomach rumble. “How did you find me?”

  “Sonny Winfield. He was very protective of your location. He only told me where you were because I told him we were partners on this case,” she said, turning a circle. “You live in this alone? And just travel around?”

  “Well, obviously, if there’s something happening in New York, I’m not going to get that assignment. I’m pretty much relegated to the western states.” A tiny meow brought her attention to the sofa. “And I don’t live alone.”

  “Oh, my God,” she said, scooping up the tiny kitten. “You have a cat? You?”