Showdown in West Texas by Amanda Stevens Page B

keep that in mind,” he said. “So, what’s the scoop on that place?”
    â€œIt was once a thriving mercury-mining town and now there’s nothing left but deserted mine shafts, a few crumbling buildings and the ghost of the murdered sheriff who still roams the streets, trying to protect the town from the marauders who gunned him down in a spectacular shoot-out.”
    â€œSounds like a Clint Eastwood movie.”
    â€œI’m sure it is,” she said with a smile, and then she sobered.
    Up ahead, two squad cars and a county coroner’s SUV were pulled to the side of the road. Cage felt that little jolt in his gut that he used to get before every mission.
    Just like old times, he thought and for a moment he sat there and savored the feeling, no matter how fleeting, of being back in the game.

Chapter Nine
    About a hundred yards off the road, two uniformed deputies and two men in plain clothes stood gazing down at something on the ground. When they saw Grace, one of them raised a hand and waved her over.
    â€œThat’s Raymond Cruz,” she said, referring to the taller of the two men in jeans. “He’s one of our detectives. The guy standing next to him is the county coroner, Ellis Lovejoy.”
    â€œGreat name for a coroner,” Cage said.
    â€œIsn’t it?”
    As they neared the crime scene, Cage could hear the sputter of radio transmissions and the sound stirred about a million memories. Different town, different cops, different scenery for sure. But the old thrill was still there.
    He hung back, not wanting to overstep his bounds, but he was itching to get a look at the victim. The deputies and Detective Cruz stepped back to make room for Grace, and she stood for a moment, gazing down at the ground with them. Then she took off her sunglasses and knelt beside the body.
    â€œWho called it in?”
    â€œA couple of teenagers on four-wheelers spotted him,” Cruz told her. “They left tracks all over the damn place.”
    â€œI don’t guess we know who he is yet, do we?”
    â€œWe don’t have a name, but Mac here thinks the guy may be related to Cecelia Suarez.”
    Cage saw Grace’s head jerk up. “Colt McKinney’s housekeeper?”
    Cruz nodded. “He says he saw them together one night at the Blue Moon. Cecelia said he was her brother.”
    â€œWhen was this, Mac?”
    One of the deputies shifted closer to Grace. “Couple weeks ago, maybe closer to three. I saw them arguing out in the parking lot. Looked like the guy was starting to get out of line so I went over to break things up and make sure Cecelia was okay. She just laughed it off and said her brother couldn’t hold his liquor. She called him la endeble, which didn’t sit too well with him.”
    â€œDid you hear his name?”
    â€œShe never called him by name, and I didn’t really get that good a look at him. It was pretty dark in the parking lot and I didn’t have my flashlight with me. But I’m pretty sure this is the same guy.”
    â€œHow sure is pretty sure?”
    â€œI’m not willing to swear on it, but you don’t see a scar like that very often.”
    â€œHas anyone talked to Cecelia yet?” Grace asked. “We’ll need to get her over to the morgue for an ID.”
    â€œI’ll swing by there on my way back to the station,” Cruz said. “Unless you want to do it. Might be easier coming from a woman.”
    He didn’t seem to mean any disrespect by the comment, and Grace didn’t appear to take offense. She glanced up at the coroner. “Any guess as to the time of death?”
    â€œBased on algor mortis, I’d say at least ten hours, but it gets pretty cool out here at night.” He shrugged, which seemed to mean, Your guess is as good as mine.
    Grace stood and glanced over her shoulder at Cage. “Come take a look. Tell me what you think.”
    The other cops