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“Who hit you?” I asked.

“He did.”

“Did you know him?”

“No. Bones. Police. He …”

Then Jerry fell back to that mostly unconscious state that made me check his pulse again.

Still there. Barely.

It wasn’t much to go on, but I couldn’t help but think that Jerry might have seen whoever had been leaving the bone sculptures, maybe came upon him.

I looked down at the old man. “Don’t you fucking die. I’ll be right back.”

I stood and looked around again. I wasn’t searching for Joey, but something else, some sort of sign that someone else had been out there and they’d had bones with them.

The desert was so familiar to me that I was sure I would catch on to something that didn’t fit, something that was out of place.

My eyes scanned, walking as far as I thought might be reasonable.

If I hadn’t been afraid of being too far away from Jerry, I could have done a better scan. I’d walk a grid when someone else made it out here to take care of him.

For now, I’d have to—

Not far from where I was standing, in the dirt where the ATV had parked before we heard Jerry moan, inside one of the tire marks, something … sparkled? Shined?

My eyes locked on that location, I made a move to hurry to get to the spot, but my toe caught on the exposed root bunch from a long-gone saguaro. The fall took me to my hands and knees. As I looked ahead at Jerry, I wondered if the root ball had been what he’d tripped over too. Maybe he’d fallen and hit his head and chin, tumbling some distance before going to the ground. I didn’t want someone to have hit him.

I turned back toward the shiny object and didn’t bother standing but crawled the rest of the way, ignoring the scrapes my hands took.

Half buried in the dirt was a gold chain with a gold medallion hanging on it. It seemed like maybe the ATV’s tires had stirred up the dirt enough to expose the necklace. I doubted it would have been uncovered if Graham and I hadn’t come along.

I didn’t have any gloves on me. Using a finger but not the pad, I lifted the chain out of its partial burial and held it up.

The pendant glimmered in the light.

“Huh,” I said aloud.

Of all things, of all the possible charms in the world, I came upon one that might mean more to me than almost anyone else.

It was a carved etching of a hand—but just the bones.

“What the hell?” I muttered.

The noise of an approaching chopper garnered my attention, and I stood.

Carefully, I slipped the necklace into my pocket and waved down the rescuers.

CHAPTER

22

THE NEXT FORTY-EIGHT hours would be crucial for Jerry, but the medical team who showed up from Tucson seemed to think that with some good care and an infusion of fluids, he’d be okay.

“You found him in the nick of time,” one of the men on the rescue team said. “He seems like a tough old guy.”

“We got lucky.”