“Whoa there, Nelly,” Cox responded. “You’re saying you’ve got a current serial killer who’s been active since the seventies?”
“Since the fifties, actually,” Joanna said. “But tell me about Lucianne’s relatives. Are any of them still around?”
“Her folks both passed years ago. I believe she has a sister, somewhere. I’ve been trying to locate her ever since your detective called. So far no luck, but we’ll keep after it.”
“Please let me know if you find her,” Joanna said.
“Yes, ma’am,” Sheriff Cox said. “Sure will.”
Call waiting buzzed just then. Excusing herself from Sheriff Cox, the new caller turned out to be Chief Bernard. “You called it,” he said. “Early dismissal it is. The buses will be there by 1:30.”
“That’s good news,” Joanna said.
“And Chief Flowers says that as long as there aren’t any fires, he can have six trucks in position within five minutes of being notified. They’ll block the four entrances and exits to Highway 80, and the ones to Bisbee Road. Once Roper enters the Traffic Circle, my units will close ranks behind him. That should leave the bastard literally running in circles.”
“Let’s hope,” Joanna said.
“Whenever you know he’s on the move, I’ll be responsible for bringing in the fire department,” Chief Bernard added.
“Good to know,” Joanna said. “Appreciate it.”
She glanced at her watch. The time was 12:45. It would be another forty-five minutes before the school buses would show up for early dismissal—the longest forty-five minutes of her life.
Chapter 38
Naco, Sonora
Friday, December 8, 2023
It was a tough day at the Free Store. Stephen hadbeen unduly nervous that morning as he approached the border crossing, but the guards on both sides waved him through the same way they usually did, with no indication that anything was amiss, and nothing seemed out of the ordinary during the course of the day. Even though he’d been exceptionally busy, he’d still tried to pay attention to what was going on outside. A new contingent of migrants had arrived overnight, and they needed everything. By one in the afternoon, not only were all the sack lunches gone, the shelves were virtually bare. With nothing more to distribute, at 1:15, he closed up shop and headed home.
He crossed the border without incident, but when he drove up to the house a few minutes later, a vehicle he didn’t recognize, and not a cop car, either, was parked in his driveway in the very spot where he needed to park the truck. Alarmed and irritated by having an unexpected visitor, he stopped on the shoulder and got out, determined to send the interloper packing. As he exited his vehicle, however, so did the female driver of what he could now see was a beat-up RAV4. At first he thought the woman was a total stranger, but as he got closer he recognized her, mostly because of her smile.He had seen Marliss Shackleford’s smiling headshot every time he logged on to her website.
“Mr. Roper?” she said, holding out her hand. “My name is Marliss Shackleford. I hope you don’t mind my dropping in unannounced like this, but I was wondering if I could speak to you for a few minutes.”
Stephen was stunned and terrified, too. What the hell was she doing here? Hoping to mask his inner turmoil, he stifled the urge to order her off his property.
“Sure,” he said as cordially as he could manage, “but do you mind pulling your car out of the driveway? That’s where I park my truck.”
“Of course,” she agreed. “No problem.”
While she moved the RAV4 back out to the street, Stephen parked the truck in its accustomed spot. Then, standing on the front porch, he struck what he hoped was a casual pose while he waited for her to finish.
“I was hoping you’d be home about now, and I trust you don’t mind my waiting around,” Marliss said as she came back up the driveway.
“Not at all,” he replied. “By the way, I read your stuff. You do a good job of keeping up with the local scene.”
Her face brightened. “Really? Thanks for saying that. I’m always happy to meet one of my followers.”
“What’s on your mind?” Stephen asked.
“I’m doing a piece on the Xavier Delgado case, and I understand you were one of the last people to see him alive. I was wondering if I could talk to you about that?”
The very last thing Stephen Roper needed right then was to have his name splashed all over Marliss’s website in connection to Xavier Delgado. This was a catastrophe, but he needed some time to figure out how to deal with it. To that end, when he responded, he forced his face to remain noncommittal.
“Of course,” he said, hoping he sounded unconcerned. “That whole thing is a nightmare. I don’t mind speaking to you about it, but here’s the thing, and please don’t think me rude, but I’m a man of a certain age. I’ve just done a four-hour shift at my Free Store down in Naco, Sonora, so before we sit down to talk, I’ll have to excuse myself to use the facilities.”
Stephen Roper wasn’t someone who entertained often. The furnishings in his home were still the same ones he had purchased all those years earlier when he’d first come to town. They’d been fine back then, but he was sure that, through Marliss Shackleford’s eyes, they looked threadbare and old-fashioned.
