fine. As I sat there, engine idling, I savored the warmth of the sun on my face and the fragrant breeze shepherding fluffy white clouds across the sapphire sky. All a matter of perception, I guess. A half hour later when the chopper rose into the air, speeding southeast towards Phoenix, traffic began inching forward again. All right! I might just make it after all.
The voice message alert on my phone chimed. I tapped the screen and listened to Fritzy’s husky voice, smiling at the nickname she’d given me in third grade. “Hey, Stick, call me when you get this message.”
Was I imagining the somber undertone in her voice? That didn’t sound promising. I dialed her number. “You have reached the office of forensic anthropologist Dr. Nora Fitzgerald Bartoli. Please leave a message and I’ll return your call.”
Dang it. I tapped her number. Two rings later I heard, “Hey there, Stick, how you doing?”
“I’ve been stuck in traffic for over an hour so I’m going to be late for lunch.”
“Don’t sweat it. Turns out I have to cancel anyway.”
My perfect day was swiftly vanishing. “Oh, don’t tell me that! Why?”
“Sorry to back out on such short notice, but I just got a call from the Yavapai County Sheriff’s Office. They’ve got a couple of bodies they need me to take a look at and I’m already on the road.”
I tried to stifle my extreme disappointment. “That’s not good news. Where are you headed?”
“Working my way north on I-17 going about ten miles an hour. Traffic is a bitch.”
“Tell me about it. I took the Carefree Highway thinking it would be faster but I ran into road construction plus a bad accident. Smart, huh?”
“I’d have probably done the same thing. Guess we’ll have to hook up at your party. So…what time does your family get in today?”
I looked at the digital clock. “Two-fifteen, but judging how the day has gone so far, I’d better check and see if the flight is on time.”
“You might want to do that. I heard there’s some pretty nasty weather back east.”
“I know. I sure hope it’s nice while they’re here.”
“How long are they staying?” she asked.
“Two weeks.”
“Cool. And you’re going to get that whole time off work?”
“That’s my plan. I’ve got their sightseeing itinerary all mapped out. Saturday we’re going to Prescott for breakfast, lunch in Jerome, Sunday we’ll stop in Flagstaff and then we’ll be on to the Grand Canyon. Tuesday we take a Jeep tour in Monument Valley, Wednesday, Canyon de Chelly, then lunch and sightseeing in Sedona on our way back home on Thursday. After the party, we’ll head to southern Arizona for a few days with the rest of the family.”
“Wow! Ambitious schedule. Sounds like a blast. I’m jealous. I’ve been so darn busy working, there are still a ton of places in Arizona I’ve yet to see. Oh well, someday. Hey, I’m looking forward to reconnecting with your family at the party. It’s been ages.”
“They’re excited about seeing you too.”
“Good.” She paused and added, “Hey, Stick, I’m sorry about cancelling on you.”
“I understand. Where did you say you were going?”
“Northwest of Black Canyon City to a place called Bumble Bee. I’m meeting the sheriff there.”
Bumble Bee. I vaguely remembered passing through the tiny community during the sightseeing trip with Tally. “Can you share any details?”
“Not yet.”
“Off the record?”
A short pause. “I can tell you this much. Early this morning a BLM ranger or a Forest Service ranger, or both, I can’t remember exactly, reported that one of the locals had discovered the bodies of two people somewhere in the Bradshaw Mountains, but I can’t divulge any other details until family has been notified.”
Two people. In the Bradshaws. A pang of uneasiness nudged my gut. Why would the authorities call Fritzy in unless there was something out of the ordinary? “Ah…it wouldn’t happen to be a young man and woman?”
Her ultra-long hesitation was more revealing than her eventual answer. “I…I can’t answer your question at this point.”
“Fritzy,” I asked, unable to subdue my rising sense of urgency, “can you tell me where the bodies were discovered?”
“The sheriff said about a mile from a place called Raven Creek.”
“Where’s that?”
“Don’t know for sure…wait a sec. We’re at a dead stop. Let me look at the map on my navigation system.”
I listened to silence for a least a minute before she murmured, “Um…okay, it looks like Raven Creek is out in the middle of nowhere northwest of Cleator and about ten miles northeast of