No other vehicles in the lot.No sign of Ben.
Kari parked and approached the store, her hand resting on her weapon out of habit.Through the grimy window, she could see the clerk behind the counter—not the old man she remembered, but a younger woman, maybe thirty, reading a paperback novel in the harsh fluorescent light.
The bell above the door jingled as Kari entered.The clerk looked up, her expression shifting from bored to wary as she took in Kari's badge.
"Help you?"
"I'm looking for a man who might have used your payphone recently.Navajo, early forties, probably looked like he'd been through hell.Would have been within the last hour or two."
The clerk frowned at her, making no effort to hide her curiosity."What's this about?"
"Just answer the question," Kari snapped.Then she took a breath and calmed herself."Please."
The clerk shook her head slowly."I haven't seen anyone like that.Haven't seen anyone at all tonight, actually.It's been dead."
Kari flinched at the word."You've been here all evening, then?"
"Since six.Took over from my uncle."The clerk set down her book."Is this guy in trouble?Should I be worried?"
"He's a police officer.He's been missing for three days."Kari pulled out her phone, showed the clerk a photo of Ben from a department barbecue last summer, even though the clerk had already made it clear she hadn't seen anyone."You're certain you haven't seen him?"
The clerk studied the photo, then shook her head again."Sorry.I'd remember.We don't get many customers after dark."
Kari thanked her and walked back outside, fighting down a rising tide of panic.She'd been so certain this was the place.The phone call had come from somewhere—Ben had managed to reach a payphone, had managed to say her name, had managed to give her the barest hint of where to find him.
But he wasn't here.Which meant either she'd guessed wrong, or—
Or hehadbeen here, and for some reason the clerk hadn't seen him take the call.Then he'd moved, because staying in one place was dangerous.Because whoever had taken him might be looking for him, too.
Kari stood in the empty parking lot, forcing herself to think like Ben.He was injured, exhausted, probably dehydrated.He'd made it to a phone, made the call, but then he'd had to keep moving.He couldn't stay near the road, couldn't risk being spotted by whoever was hunting him.
So where would he go?
She turned in a slow circle, studying the landscape.Desert stretched in every direction: scrub brush and rock formations and the dark shapes of distant mesas.To the east, the land rose toward a ridge that she knew from childhood hikes.To the west, it fell away toward a dry wash that ran for miles before emptying into the Little Colorado River.
Ben knew this land almost as well as she did.He'd grown up on the reservation, had spent his youth exploring every canyon and mesa within a day's drive of his family's home.If he needed to hide, he would choose somewhere defensible.Somewhere with cover.Somewhere that a pursuer wouldn't think to look.
Somewhere that meant something to him.
The thought struck her with sudden clarity.The ridge to the east—she and Ben had been there together the night after they'd found Evan Naalnish's remains.They'd driven out separately, both needing space to process what they'd discovered, and had found each other at the overlook where the old fire road dead-ended.They'd sat on the hood of Ben's truck for hours, not talking much, just watching the stars wheel overhead while they grappled with the weight of a fifteen-year-old murder and the conspiracy that had kept it hidden.
This is my thinking spot,Ben had told her.When things get too heavy, I come here.Something about the view puts everything in perspective.
Kari ran for her Jeep.
The fire road was rough, barely maintained, the kind of track that would destroy a sedan's suspension in minutes.Kari's Jeep handled it without complaint, climbing steadily toward the ridge while her headlights swept across rocks and brush and the occasional startled jackrabbit.
She found him at the overlook.
Ben was slumped against a boulder at the edge of the clearing, positioned where he could see anyone approaching from the road.His clothes were torn and dirty, his face a mask of bruises and dried blood.His wrists, visible where his sleeves had ridden up, showed raw red marks that could only have come from restraints.
But his eyes were open.And when Kari's headlights found him, he managed a weak smile.
"Took you long enough," he rasped.
Kari was out of the Jeep before it had fully stopped, crossing the distance between them in seconds.She dropped to her knees beside him, her hands hovering over his injuries, afraid to touch him and cause more pain.
"Ben.Shit, Ben."The words came out thick, choked with relief and fury."What did they do to you?"
