Just The Pits (Hetta Coffey Series, Book 5) by Jinx Schwartz Page A

knew quite well.
    Safety turned and shook his head sadly. "I guess they've given up the hunt for him. Too bad, he was a nice kid."
    A nice kid you got drunk and tried to murder? I wanted to say, but bit my tongue. I guess I didn't bite it hard enough. "Didn't you say you shared an office with him early on? Before he set up shop in my closet?"
    "Yes, I did. Why?"
    "I kinda wondered if anyone from here went out looking for him when he went missing. I heard the boat was found unharmed on the beach the next morning."
    "Mexican Navy did the search."
    "Oh." I climbed into the pickup and sulked into my corner.
    A mile or so down the road, Safety broke the silence. "You think we didn't care enough to look for him, don't you?"
    I shrugged. I'd already said enough and painting Safety with the brush of disapproval would not work in my favor right now. I was dozing off once again when Safety yelled, "There he is!"
    "Rosario?" I said, jerking awake confused and a little dazed.
    "No. That dog of yours." He pointed ahead and sure enough, there was the dog we now dubbed Po Thang.
    Rats, I'd eaten the dog bait.
    Safety glanced at his rearview and side mirrors. "No one behind us and as far as I can tell, no one coming. Wanna try to get him?"
    "Sure, but how?"
    "I'll stay in the truck, you see if you can get a leash on him. There's a length of rope in the back seat."
    Paranoia raised its ugly head. Get out? How did I know he wouldn't drive off and leave me? Or worse, turn around and run both me and the dog down? I only had seconds to make up my mind so I undid my seat belt, snatched the piece of line and jumped out of the truck, which isn't a great idea when your balance is already impaired by a soporific.
    As I picked myself up and dusted my butt, Safety yelled through the open window, "If I have to leave, I'll come back for you. Good luck."
    Good luck? Holy hell, I guess. Po Thang and I shared less than a six-foot shoulder, a tiny piece of real estate he'd staked out as his own. When I stood, he'd skittered backward, perilously close to the edge of the bajillion-foot drop-off behind him. Less than five feet of trash-strewn roadside separated us.
    I knelt down to his level. "Hey, sweetie," I cooed, "I'm not going to hurt you. I'm trying to save you."
    He let loose with a low rumble. It wasn't a very convincing growl, but there was a show of teeth.
    An air horn sounded behind me and I heard Safety drive off in response. Both trucks disappeared around a sharp curve and there was a sudden hush unlike anything I'd ever experienced. A brisk wind blowing up the cliff gave off an eerie wail, raising goose bumps the size of Kilimanjaro.
    Beyond Po Thang's tiny piece of roadside and far, far below, miles of jagged frozen lava wrinkles covered in red dust brought Mars to mind. Los Tres Virgenes volcanoes loomed menacingly on the horizon. I cast a longing look at the too distant turquoise water of the Sea of Cortez sparkling in the late afternoon sun like a small beacon of hope. Tears sprang into my eyes for no apparent reason, other than the fact that I was stranded on Hell Hill with a possibly vicious dog.
    Another air horn startled me as a truck rounded the curve, the driver no doubt thinking, What in the hell is that stupid Gringa doing up here?
    Yeah, what was this stupid Gringa doing up here? The dog barked, reminding me of my mission, then he glowered and growled again. I think he somehow knew I ate his lunch.
    "Okay, big guy," I said in my nice-doggy voice, "let's see if I can lasso your scrawny ass."
    That garnered a faint tail wag, so I took a step forward. Once again he backed up. This was not going to work. I didn't come out here to kill Po Thang by running him off a bluff, or worse, into oncoming traffic. I sat down in the dust, cross-legged, and waited. Oh, for a dog biscuit!
    Feeling in my pockets, all I came up with was a pack of gum. Slowly unwrapping a stick, making sure the foil made lots of noise, I held it out. He craned his neck