LITMIR.BIZ

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off?”

      I blushed. “It was either the gym or the camp and I thought I better start running if I was going to try that academy. How far do they make you run there?”

      “Till you drop.”

      “Okay, so I’m training for a marathon here.”

      “Want to race?”

      “That’s no fair. I’ve put in 3 miles and now you want to race?”

      “Okay, we won’t race.”

      He selected a treadmill, hopped on and set the speed to a jog then kept at it. I upped my speed to finish my last mile and then I weighed in. I was more worried about losing too much weight than gaining any. I tried to stay above a hundred and fifteen pounds. Once academy started it was going to be a constant battle.

      I sat in a chair beside the lobby and waited, suspecting Rusty had more on his mind than simply working out. I also knew that he’d never talk about work at the gym. He finished his work out and then walked towards me.

      “I’ll be out in a minute.”

      I glanced around the room and was met with evil stares from twenty women.

      “I don’t think we should leave together,” I replied. “I’ll track you down tomorrow.”

      “That’s appropriate. Come by early, dress for tracking. Desert.”

      I shot him a questioning look. “Okay, I’ll see ya.”

      I left the gym wondering what was up. I felt the eyes on my back until I got in the Jeep and drove off. His eyes, making sure I got homeward bound without mishap, and all the women looking on with jealousy.

      Uncertain what Rusty’s definition of early was, and considering we’d be tracking in the desert, I thought it best to begin in the cool of the morning. I was also unsure what he wanted me to wear. He said I should wear tracking clothes. He might prefer me to dress the part in the event there were other police officers there. I dressed in camouflage pants, a tan t-shirt, and moccasins. In the garage I dug out my Camel Pack and added my tracking tools. If this was desert tracking I’d need plenty of water. I fed Shadow on my way out the door.

      I drove to the police station and checked in at the front counter. Although everyone knew me, it was standard procedure to always check in. I made my way to Rusty’s office and peeked in though his door’s little window to make sure he was alone. I preferred not to barge in on meetings. It was always a peek through the window, two gentle knocks, then I’d crack the door and look in. He was sitting at his desk typing on the computer so I took a seat and waited for him to finish. He wasn’t dressed in his usual slacks and sport coat. He appeared ready for a day out in the hills. His hiking boots poked out from under the far side of the desk and his clothes were meant for hiking.

      “Before we go, I want to talk to you, make sure this is something you want to do.”

      “Okay, although I can’t imagine why I wouldn’t want to go out tracking.”

      “These cases are not a pretty sight. And it involves carjacking. These people were not as lucky as you were. Do you still want to go?”

      My heart sank. Sure, I’d go, but I remembered vividly what it felt like to be carjacked. And this was worse. These were murder scenes.

      “Yeah, I still want to go.”

      “There’s some things I want you to know before we go. Some of it you might find useful in the tracking. Mostly I want you to be alert when you’re alone. This guy is dangerous and he doesn’t seem to have any problem finding victims.”

      “What’s his MO?”

      “He hangs out in bank parking lots. He waits for someone to use the ATM, in the process of robbing them he forces them into their car and it is later found in some remote location. He has also been known to find unlocked cars and hide in the back seat. Whenever you go anyplace, no matter how short a time, lock your car. I know you’re observant but be extra careful around banks, even if you aren’t at the bank itself. Remember Silva.”

      “Yeah, I remember Silva.”

      “If he carjacks a large vehicle, like the one we will go look at today, the body is found in the vehicle. If it’s a smaller car there’s no sign of the suspect or the body. Get the picture?”

      “So you want me to help you figure out what happens after the murder took place.”

      He looked at me seriously. “You still want to do it? I can get guys from the station to go out there with me. I just have better luck with you… um, tracking-wise.”

      “Speaking of which, I was lucky to get out of that gym in one piece. You need to do something about your little fan club.”

      “My fan club?”

      “If you had gone in the dressing room and left me out there waiting for you I would have been interrogated. If you want to race come in the morning, six AM. I’m not competing with that nighttime crowd.”

      “Babe, you’re not competing with anybody.”

      We left the station in an unmarked car and drove out of town. The country around Joshua Hills is bleak and barren to say the least. Joshua trees are the tallest things around and the view to the horizon is an endless sweep of dry desert. Not even cactus like it out there. It is a hostile land. Rusty drove down one nameless dirt road after another until we reached a place where a white van had veered halfway off the road. Two wheels were buried in the deep mound of dirt left by the last bulldozer and the other two were off the road.

      “This is it?”

      “Yep, one white van, a couple of footprints, then nothing.”

      “Any other car tracks on this road? He couldn’t have gone far out here. He had to have wheels. No normal person could hike more than a mile or two from this spot without roasting. How long ago did this happen?”

      “Yesterday.”

      “Someone was getting killed out here yesterday?” No need of an answer there, Rusty’s look said it all. “How could I have just been having a normal day when someone was out here getting murdered?”

      “Now you know a little of what I was thinking when you were with Silva.”

      I looked carefully at the tracks exiting the van. A large man’s shoes. I measured the track and sketched it as well as I could. The sand was deep here and shifted a lot so it didn’t leave a lot of details.

      “Why would he exit the van from the driver’s seat with all those big doors in the back? Can you open them?”

      “You don’t want to see back there. This is a work van. I’ll just say there were tools back there and he made use of them.”

      “The man who got out of the van climbed over the front seat facing the door and landed with both feet.” I looked in the van. Bloody smears verified he’d grabbed the steering wheel on his way through, and confirming what Rusty had said, I didn’t want to see the back anymore.

      I studied the footprints just outside the van again, then followed them around to the front of the van, where they vanished.

      “No wonder your officers had trouble with this trail. This trail has trouble written all over it.”

      “What do you mean?” he asked.

      “This guy is good. The ground is hard here, bad for tracking. But not only that, this guy knows how to hide a trail. This is going to be rough. Are you ready to try it? Did you bring plenty of water?” I dug around in my pack and pulled out a very used and folded hat that I only wore in extremely hot and sunny hiking. I looked ridiculous wearing it but there were times when necessity forced me to look ridiculous.

      “What about you? Are you ready for this?” I asked Rusty.

      “Yup, just say something before you pass out

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