Austin clutched the Glock in one hand and drove closer.

“Aw, hell,” he said.

“Anyone you know?”

“I’m afraid so,” Austin said.

It was Squire. A lance pinned him to the stand like a butterfly in a display case.

Austin continued on past the reviewing stand and its macabre decoration and came to the SUV he had played chicken with and the vehicle it had crashed into. Both were heavily damaged.

“What happened here?” Flagg said.

“Demolition derby,” Austin said. He continued on to the gorge.

The field that had been crowded with vehicles and Baltazar’s men was deserted. Even the horses and their trailers had vanished. There were deep tire tracks in the grass, indicating intense truck activity.

Austin described his joust with Baltazar and his encounter with the Carina stand-in. Then he turned around and drove back to the reviewing stand. He told Flagg that he owed Squire a favor. They pulled the lance out and gently wrapped Squire in a piece of tent fabric. After placing the body in the reviewing stand they explored some side roads and came upon a vacant hangar and airstrip, which explained Baltazar’s fast escape.

They decided to check out the house. Austin turned up the driveway to the mansion. The two-story hacienda looked as if it had been plucked from the Spanish countryside. The walls were light brown smooth stucco. Rounded parapets decorated the corners of a roof covered in red tile. Arched windows framed a large, intricately carved porch.

Austin parked in front of the house. Still no opposition. He and Flagg got out of the car and made their way through a courtyard to a tall double door of dark-paneled wood. Austin opened the doors. No one blew his head off, so he stepped into the spacious entry hall.

He and Flagg took turns covering each other as they went through the lower level room by room. Next they searched the second story. They found the room with the balcony. It was a study, with a large desk and leather chairs. Austin went out on the balcony. He had a view of the surrounding lawns and fields. Nothing moved within his field of vision except for a few crows.

“Hey, Austin,” Flagg called. “Your pal left you a note.”

Flagg was pointing to a sheet of Baltazar’s stationery taped to a remote control on a side table. Below the bull’s-head logo were the words: Dear Austin, Please watch the video. VB

“Too polite. Might be a booby trap,” Flagg said.

“I don’t think so. Baltazar likes to torture before he kills.”

Flagg’s expression mirrored his doubts, but he picked up the remote and pressed the ON button.

A section of wall disappeared to reveal a wide television screen. Baltazar’s smiling face appeared on the screen. The video had evidently been shot in the study, because behind Baltazar was the door leading to the balcony.