CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The address Maria had given her for the Sonoran 100 race headquarters turned out to be a storage unit complex on the outskirts of Scottsdale.
Kari pulled into the lot and double-checked the information on her phone.Maria had dug up the race registration records, which listed the organizing body as "Sonoran Endurance Events LLC" with Cedric Dalton as the registered agent.The business address led here—Unit 47, wedged between a boat storage facility and a place that rented U-Hauls by the hour.
Not exactly what she'd expected for an organization that charged three hundred dollars per entry and attracted runners from around the world.
The unit itself was closed, a heavy padlock securing the roll-up door.Kari walked the perimeter, looking for any signs of activity, but the place was deserted.A faded sign on the adjacent unit advertised "24-Hour Access," but there was no indication that anyone had been here recently.
She tried the phone number listed on the race website.It rang six times, then clicked over to a generic voicemail that didn't identify the business or provide any useful information.She left a message, knowing it probably wouldn't be returned anytime soon.
Dead end.At least for now.
Kari sat in her Jeep and considered her options.Dalton wasn't at his business address, wasn't answering his phone.She could wait, hope he showed up eventually, but that felt like wasting time she didn't have.Three runners were dead, and if the pattern held, the killer wasn't going to stop.
She pulled up the race website on her phone and started digging.The "About" page had a brief biography of Cedric Dalton: former competitive ultra-runner, fifteen years of race directing experience, passionate advocate for desert running.No personal details, no home address, nothing that would help her find him.
But the website also had a news section, and the most recent post caught her attention.It was dated three days ago, announcing that the Sonoran 100 would be holding a "memorial training run" in honor of the runners who had recently died.The event was scheduled for this afternoon, starting from a trailhead in the McDowell Sonoran Preserve.
Kari checked the time.If she left now, she might catch Dalton before the run started.
The drive took forty-five minutes, the traffic thickening as she approached the Phoenix metro area.The McDowell Sonoran Preserve occupied thousands of acres of protected desert northeast of the city, a maze of trails and rock formations that drew hikers and runners from across the region.Kari had been here once before, years ago, on a case that had taken her through the wealthy enclaves surrounding the preserve.
The trailhead parking lot was nearly full when she arrived—dozens of cars, most of them bearing the telltale stickers and decals of serious runners.Kari spotted bumper stickers for races she'd never heard of, window decals proclaiming "100 Miles Is Just The Beginning," and more than a few vehicles with roof racks carrying enough gear for a small expedition.
A crowd had gathered near the trailhead itself, maybe sixty or seventy people in running clothes, milling around in the afternoon heat.Some were stretching, others talking in small groups, a few standing alone with the thousand-yard stare of athletes preparing for something difficult.A folding table had been set up near the trail entrance, covered with water bottles and energy gels and a hand-lettered sign that read "In Memory of Jennifer, Jordan, and Jessica."
Kari scanned the crowd, looking for someone who might be in charge.Her eye landed on a man near the table—early fifties, lean and weathered, with the deeply tanned skin of someone who spent most of his life outdoors.He was talking to a younger woman, gesturing with his hands, his expression tight with what looked like a combination of grief and frustration.
She approached and waited for a break in the conversation.The man glanced at her, did a visible double-take at her badge, and held up a hand to pause the woman he'd been speaking with.
"Can I help you?"
"Cedric Dalton?"
"That's right."His voice was wary now."What's this about?"
"I'm Detective Kari Blackhorse, Navajo Nation Police.I'm investigating the death of Jessica Ramirez."
Dalton's face went through a complicated series of expressions—surprise, confusion, something that might have been fear."Navajo Nation?I thought—Jessica was found near Chinle, wasn't she?That's..."
"Within our jurisdiction, yes.I'd like to ask you some questions about the race, about the victims.If you have a few minutes."
"I don't—this isn't really a good time."Dalton gestured at the crowd behind him."We're about to start the memorial run.These people came from all over to honor their friends.I can't just—"
"Mr.Dalton."Kari held his gaze."Three people are dead.Three of your registered participants.I understand you have obligations here, but I'm sure you also want to help us find out what happened to them."
Dalton hesitated, clenching his jaw.Then he nodded."Of course I want to help.God, of course.Jennifer, Jordan, and Jessica—they were part of this community.Mycommunity.What happened to them..."He shook his head ruefully."It's destroyed us.People are terrified.Half my registered runners have already withdrawn.I've got people calling me every day asking if the race is going to be cancelled, if it's safe to train alone, if there's a serial killer targeting ultra-runners."
"And what do you tell them?"
"I tell them I don't know.Because I don't."Dalton ran a hand through his hair, leaving it disheveled."Look, Detective, I want to help.I really do.But I've got sixty people here who need me to lead this run, who need me to say something meaningful about their friends who died.Can we talk after?In an hour, maybe two?"
Kari considered pushing harder, but something in Dalton's face stopped her.The grief looked genuine—the red-rimmed eyes, the slight tremor in his hands, the way his voice kept catching on the victims' names.
"I'll wait," she said."But I need your full attention when you're done."
"Agreed.Thank you."Dalton turned back toward the crowd, then paused."There's shade by the ranger station, if you want to get out of the sun.This might take a while."
