Whiskey Sunrise - a Christian Suspense Novel: A chilling tale of a desert that buries its secrets. Read Free

passenger car door, reached into the glove compartment, and pulled out a pair of military issue binoculars.
    Sunlight exploded into blood reds on the underside of the plum-topped clouds brooding along the eastern mountains. The weather report warned of a rogue hurricane barreling down on the Baja coast.
Hopefully, we’ll get some rain from it.
    He raised the binoculars to his eyes and focused the field glasses. The distant landscape of thorny vegetation, rocks, and sand jumped in close as he performed a slow pirouette. A realm of precarious life and easy death. Days of boiling temps and frigid nights. Now, with all the recent activity of the drug cartels—the shooting of a Phoenix school official and the kidnapping of a state senator’s daughter—Rye spent several minutes each morning searching for any signs of cartel or immigration activity.
    Seeing nothing besides arid desolation, he returned the binoculars to their place in the glove box. Once behind the steering wheel, he laid his white Stetson on the passenger seat, crown side down. He keyed the ignition and kicked up the air conditioning. Giving his postage-sized piece of desert a final once over, Rye made sure no one lingered around his doublewide, southwest-styled mobile home. He checked to ensure he had closed the gate to his chicken coop. Didn’t want his birds running loose in the desert. He slipped the Tahoe’s gear into reverse and backed onto the gravel road SR01, a small lane with several lots feeding from it.
    The dusty haze he created hung like cheesecloth in the air. He drove past several trailer homesteads resembling his: a mobile home, a shed and a small sandy yard. Tiny rectangles of humanity hacking inroads into a sparse land.
    His vision blurred.
    An image of a knife dripping blood filled his mind’s eye. Heshuddered, chills flowing down his spine. A moment later, the vision vanished. The desert ebbed back into sight. Grunting, he yanked the steering wheel to get back on his side of the road.
    “Crud,” he blurted, slapping the steering wheel. These visions had been gifted to—or cursed upon—him from his mother. A gift he never wanted.
    He drove past Johnny Batts’ land, the last driveway before meeting the main road. The recluse owned several dozen acres of rock and sand. Rye realized he hadn’t seen Batts for a couple of weeks. Later today he’d check up on the man.
    At the end of SR01, Rye slowed when he reached the line of mailboxes. He stopped and waited until the dust cloud generated by his vehicle dissipated. He got out and checked his mailbox, a black number nine clearly stenciled on its side. Empty. He pulled the
Arizona Republic
out of the newspaper bin underneath. Sliding back into the Tahoe, he tossed the paper in the passenger seat next to his hat.
    The urge for a shot of bourbon rolled over him. He licked his lips.
Just a sip.
He closed his eyes, drowning in the desire for a drink. Trembling hands gripped the steering wheel as if he grasped a lifesaver.
    You’re the police chief of Whiskey, Arizona … focus.
    Yet the desire intensified. He could taste the burn. His eyes drew open, and he studied the door to the glove box. Reaching over, he opened the compartment. Behind the binoculars, the empty flask awaited him, a bitter reminder of how easy it would be to find a place to fill it. His hand went for the flask, but his fingers brushed the photo of his wife and son, a photo he had tossed in there when they separated.
When she left,
he corrected himself.
I never wanted her to.
    Instead of the flask, he grabbed the photo. An unsmiling Dee stared at him. He could almost hear her reproving tone—imploring him leave the booze alone. Rye returned the photo and slammed the glove box shut. Anger welled inside him, uncontrolled. He punched the dashboard. Jerking the gearshift into drive, Rye stomped the gas pedal. Gravel spit from his tires; the back end squirmed, and the Tahoe shot forward.
    His cell phone sounded with Darryl