CHAPTER TWENTY
JUNE 10, 9 AM
MCLAIN HOME
The doorbell rings, and the Pekinese is here to pick up the boys who simultaneously come flying down the stairs and hit the front door just as I am about to open it. They jerk the door open and race out, hollering “goodbye” as they head for Mrs. Roper’s car. She mumbles something about 6 pm as a drop-off time, and Blondie should be home by then, and goodbye, Mr. McLain.
Still thinking a lot about the highway murders and the possibility that Indian jewelry might be involved, I decide to drive over to Scottsdale and walk the tourist shopping area where multiple shops sell Indian jewelry. Perhaps they have names of the Indians who make the jewelry and market to them, and if any of them happen to come from Globe to make their sales.
I stroll down S
