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Montoya said to Hunter, “Where’s the cut-off hand you said was here? Or did you make that up?”
Hunter said, “They ate it. Had themselves a little barbecue right over there by that mesquite and left a note saying it was finger-licking good.”
Raymond said under his breath, “Damn.”
Montoya’s eyes bugged, “If you don’
t want to help with the investigation, Kincaid, you can haul your butt on out of here.”
Hunter said, “Relax, they took the hand, too. And they left in a helicopter. The same way they got here.”
“Which way did they go?”
“I can’t track in the air.”
Raymond spoke up before they shot each other, “I think they went north, judging from the impressions of the skids.”
“What’s up that way?”
Hunter started to speak but Raymond quickly said, “Ranches.”
Montoya polished his sunglasses again and said, “What about the copter?”
Hunter was first, “Look, Danny, you know as much as we do at this point. We didn’t see it.”
“It’s Sheriff, not Danny.”
“Why don’t you pull that stick-”
“We’re through here,” Raymond said, tugging on Hunter’s arm. “Hunter and I will be working a trail and we won’t have any radio contact. Leave us a message at the Marfa station if you need something.”
As they hopped in their vehicle, Hunter said, “I’m sorry. He gets under my skin without even trying.”
“Really? I didn’t notice.”
***
Chula barked as the Border Patrol vehicle drove into the ranch yard. Sam finished repairing the top hinge on the corral gate as Hunter and Raymond got out and approached on foot. Hunter said, “Chula!” and the dog stopped barking and trotted to her for some petting.
Raymond said, “Hey, Sam,” and shook the rancher’s hand. Hunter walked to them and shook his hand as well. Raymond said, “We’ve been on a trail for a couple of days and lost it a few miles back, but it was coming this way.”
Sam said, “Let’s get out of the sun and I’ll fill you in.” They sat on the shaded porch and it was immediately cooler. He said, “A Mexican showed up around daybreak. I hardly ever get walkers out here; its just too tough for them to cross through the despoblado when there are so many places easier, but this one did. He’s come here occasionally, over a lot of years, but never stays long.”
Hunter asked, “Do you know his name?”
“Miguel.”
Hunter said, “He’s been walking our legs off. Covers ground like a Tarahumara.”
Sam said, “I don’t think he’s Tarahumara. Yaqui maybe, because he’s about six feet tall. But they can travel too, the mountain ones, anyway. He once told me he lived high up in the Sierra Madre near the head of the Rio Conchos, between there and the border with Sonora.” Sam paused and said, “He’d been shot.”
Hunter and Raymond glanced at each other. Raymond said, “We can call for the ambulance, Sam.”
“He asked me to doctor him up, but didn’t want to go to a hospital. He said there were men in a helicopter who shot him, then chased him until he got away. They landed in my yard this morning and asked about him.”
“Did you recognize them, or get a tail number on the copter?” Raymond asked.
“Never saw them before, and I didn’t recognize the chopper. I didn’t think to look for a number.”
