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“My brother and I are going hiking this afternoon, up the Piestewa Peak Trail. Ever done that?”
“Totally. I’m up there all the time. Great views.”
“Do you have a favorite trail?”
He shrugged. “Hmm, not really, we like to take our dirt bikes up there.”
Bikes weren’t allowed, but clearly he didn’t care about the rules.
“Sounds fun.”
I paid, held out my hand for the change which he counted out, then said, “Do you have a bag for the beer?”
“Anything for you, sugar,” he said with a sly grin. “I get off at eight most days, if you want to get a drink or something.”
I poured the change into the bag, glanced over at the cigarettes, sighed.
“I quit, but sometimes I just need one, you know? Can you toss in a pack of Virginia Slims?”
“Sure.”
I counted out exact change and slid it on the counter. He put the cigarettes in the bag on top of the beer.
“Thanks,” I said and left.
It had been a spur-of-the-moment decision, but I had an idea and would love to get his prints. I didn’t know if the cans would retain them with the moisture on the outside, but the coins and the cigarette box just might.
It was the mountain that tipped me off. Those trails on the east led to all the mountain-side homes in Paradise Valley. According to the article I read, the police believed that the robbers parked outside of the neighborhood and walked in, then escaped through backyards. What better way to disappear from a crime scene than through the maze of trails. They were closed at night and not regularly patrolled.
I may have solved Nico’s big case. Detective Villines should give me a medal.
I was about to drive away when I saw someone familiar walk up to the door and enter the Cactus Stop. He stopped and looked right at me.
Javier Escobar.
Seventeen
Sophia Diaz
Sophia sat on the couch, wringing her hands, and told Detective Barrios everything that Henry had said.
“Sergio didn’t kill anyone. Henry had his sweatshirt the weekend that...that the clerk was killed,” Sophia said. “He gave it back to Sergio at our dinner last week.”
The detective was writing in her notebook, a blank look on her face, but when she finally looked up, Sophia didn’t think the woman believed her.
“Did Henry admit that he was one of the three boys who were at the Cactus Stop the night the clerk was killed?”
“Y-yes. But he didn’t shoot anyone! Javier did. He specifically said that it was an accident, that Javier said the clerk was going for a gun and he shot him. Sergio wasn’t even there!”
The detective looked pointedly at her. “Your brother confessed. The sweatshirt he wore in the video I saw him wearing at work a week later. The lab confirmed that there was gunshot residue in the jacket. You’re now claiming that your other brother was involved with the shooting, and that would make Sergio an accessory after the fact.”
Sophia stifled a cry. “No. He said he was protecting me.”
“He told you that?”
“No, the detective—”
“What detective?”
