The Jeep jerked to a halt as Carlos pulled the parking brake and killed the engine.  Sheriff Lohr hoisted his tired bones from the passenger seat and as his antique brown ostrich cowboy boots – a Christmas present from MaeBelle - hit the Jeep’s running board, he noticed Fawn standing to his side with her arms outstretched.

    “Watch yourself, little lady,” said Jeff as he pivoted on the running board.

    “Oh,” she said, “I was going to help you down.”

    “Help me down?  How old do you think I am?”

    Fawn smiled and said nothing as she stepped out of Jeff’s way.  Carlos wiped his brow and squinted at the evening sun as the other two joined him at the edge of the trail.

    “There it is,” said Carlos.

    “Doesn’t look like the typical tin-pan from here,” said Jeff.  “Did you see it up close?”

    “We didn’t have time,” interrupted Fawn.

    The two men leaned forward and beamed at Fawn playfully.  She balanced on her tiptoes and shielded her eyes from the sun as she studied the arroyo, and then suddenly realized that it was she who had spoken and not Carlos.

    “Sorry,” she said as her face reddened.

    “No no,” said Jeff.  “Speak up when you think it appropriate, little lady.”

    Fawn lowered her head and kicked an invisible rock at her feet.  A light breeze brushed her cheek and cooled her blushing face.

    “Shall we?” beckoned Carlos.

    The unlikely trio shuffled their way across the hardpan in single file and took great care in dragging their feet to warn the rattlers that sought shady refuge in the underbrush.  Hummingbirds flitted hopelessly about the clumps of black sage that had lost their flowers a month before. 

    “Watch your step right here,” Jeff warned suddenly.

    Carlos bolted rigidly to a stop and Fawn nearly ran into the back of him.

    “See this?” said Jeff as he stepped over a small pile of twigs at his feet and then turned around to face Carlos and Fawn.

    Carlos squatted and studied the wood while Fawn leaned in from behind him with her hands on her knees.  The twigs had been buried in the dirt and the ends sharpened so that anyone who stepped on them would get a rather painful puncture.

    “That would hurt,” said Fawn.

    “That’s the intention,” said Jeff.  “But it’s not meant to cripple.”

    “What do you mean?” asked Carlos.

    “It’s meant to warn somebody.”

    “Ah,” Fawn spoke up again.  “It’s meant to warn but not a warning.”

    “Exactly,” said Jeff.  “It’s meant to make whoever steps on it scream in pain so the person living here knows someone’s coming.  Watch your step in here.”

    Carlos and Fawn did as Jeff instructed as they entered the small clearing.  The campsite was clean and orderly, with the exception of the dusty tent that stood in sharp contrast to the dull green underbrush.  The tent was made from a flannel bedspread, and was positioned so that the rear was protected by the base of the arroyo.

    The front was supported by two thin aluminum poles that were buried in the dirt, one of which had fallen over, Carlos thought most likely from the wind.

    “This place gives me the creeps,” said Fawn.

    “There’s something about it, isn’t there?” asked Jeff rhetorically as he took off his “Indy Hat” and stroked the brim with his thumbs.

    Carlos knelt in the dirt and poked at a small circle of rocks in the middle of the clearing with his pocket knife.  The circle was about the circumference of a dinner plate, and a layer of loose dirt covered the inside of it.  “Four days… maybe five,” he said.

    “This guy’s a pro,” said Jeff.  “There are traps all along the perimeter like the one I almost stepped on.  And there’s nothing inside the tent.”

    Fawn turned her head to one side as if she were a puppy hearing an unfamiliar noise and thought for a moment. “I’m confused,” she said.

    “About what?” asked Carlos as he stood up and dusted off his knife.

    “If this guy’s a pro…, then why did he leave his tent where anyone could see it?”

    “He didn’t,” said Jeff.  “Look at these clumps of brush.  Some of them have been pulled from the dirt.”

    Fawn looked around at the vegetation that surrounded the campsite.  With the exception of a few bunches of prickly pear, she thought it all looked unremarkably similar and boring.

    “What does that mean?” Fawn shrugged.

    “It means that some of them were used as camouflage, and I think you wouldn’t have seen the tent from twenty feet away had the wind not cleared it off.”

    “Oh,” said Fawn.

    “Uh oh is more like it,” said Jeff.  “Notice anything else about this campsite… as a whole?”

    Carlos and Fawn turned in their tracks and looked all around them.  Carlos removed his hat and wiped his brow.

    “One thing I noticed right away is how clean it is,” said Fawn.

    “You are on the right track,” said Jeff.  “Clean how?”

    Fawn circled the campsite and looked for any other clues.  As she began to retrace her steps for a second pass around, she stopped suddenly.

    “There are no footprints!”

    “Other than ours, no there aren’t… and that’s what worries me the most.”

    “Perhaps he’s part Chumash,” offered Carlos.

    “Or Military,” said Jeff.

    “Or both,” said Fawn.

    “I’ve seen enough,” Jeff said as he slapped his hat against his thigh before placing it back on his head.  “I would say that if you haven’t seen this guy by now, you ain’t gonna.”

    “Because he doesn’t want to be seen?”

    “Little lady, you are just as smart as a whip!”

    Fawn blushed again.  She loved a respectful compliment from anyone of authority, but at the same time didn’t quite know how to say thank you.  Carlos led the way back toward the Jeep, followed closely by Fawn.

    “How long would you say he’s been here, Carlos?” asked Jeff as they approached the edge of the trail.

    “Hard to say…  Maybe as much as a month.”

    “No more than that?” Fawn asked as she hopped in the back seat.

    “I wouldn’t say so.  One who has skills like this wouldn’t need to live out there for that long.”

    “Unless he wanted to,” Jeff added as MaeBelle’s Christmas present hit the running board.  “What do you think about all of that, little lady?”

    “I think…,” Fawn started, and then paused.  “…I won’t be riding this trail for a while.”