I brought the Cherokee to a stop. The voice said, It is all right. There is no one here.
“Why is the gate open?”
I opened it for you.
Not sure what I should do about that particular statement, I swallowed, then nudged the gas. The SUV moved forward slowly, and in a few more seconds, I was inside the compound. Almost as soon as the rear bumper had cleared the gate, it closed behind me.
“You again?” I asked, hoping I’d kept most of the worry out of my voice.
Yes.
Since there was nothing else to do, I took a quick survey of my surroundings. There seemed to be a large house, built in the typical Santa Fe style with sheer walls of thick adobe and a flat roof. Aspen trees surrounded it, their golden leaves fluttering in the afternoon breeze. Just past the house was an outbuilding that appe
