Joanna went out into the kitchen and returned with Butch’s last bottle of Michelob Ultra. “What’s up, Ernie?” she asked, handing it to him. “You look upset. Is something the matter? Is it Rose?”

Ernie took a long sip of beer. “No,” he said, lowering the bottle. “It’s me.”

“What about you?”

“It’s not something that’s easy to talk about,” he answered. “I mean, you being a woman and all…”

“Ernie,” she urged. “Tell me.”

He took another sip of beer. “You may have noticed I’ve missed some shifts lately.”

“Yes,” she said. “Frank and I had noticed.”

“Well,” Ernie said, “it’s because I’ve been seeing a doctor- up in Tucson. Rosie told me I needed to tell you about it, so you’d know what’s been going on.”

“What is going on?”

He sighed. “When I went in for my annual physical, Dr. Lee said my PSA was way out of whack. He sent me to a specialist in Tucson.”

“PSA?” Joanna asked, feeling stupid.

“Prostate-specific antigen,” Ernie explained. “It means I’ve got prostate cancer.”

For a moment, Joanna could think of nothing to say. Finally she said, “Ernie, I’m so sorry.”

He nodded. “Me, too. Believe me. I got the news a couple of weeks ago. For a while I just couldn’t process it. Couldn’t think how it was possible for me to have cancer. I’ve always been healthy as a horse. And then, just like that, you’re sitting there in the doctor’s office, he says the magic words and wham-o, all of a sudden you’re a cancer patient. It’s like falling off a cliff.”

Joanna thought about finding Andy lying wounded along High Lonesome Road. Yes, it had felt just like that. One minute she had been mad as hell at him for being late for their tenth-anniversary dinner, and the next minute she was crouched in the dirt, praying for help, and applying pressure to his gunshot wound in hopes of keeping Andy from bleeding to death. It had been exactly like falling off a cliff.

“What’s the prognosis?” she asked.

Ernie shrugged. “You know how doctors are. They think they caught it early and all that happy baloney^ but who knows? Since nobody ever had me do a PSA test before, they’re not really sure how long it’s been around.”

“What about treatment?” she asked.

“That’s the thing. We’ve been trying to find out what all the options are. Surgery, radiation, whatever. Rosie and I have been meeting with people-doctors and patients both-trying to figure out what’s the best thing to do. Supposedly I’m a good candidate for seeds…”

“Seeds?”

“Radiation seeds. Then there’s some hotshot new treatment called cryo-something, where they freeze things, but my oncologist says that’s still out there in the experimental stages. He thinks if the tumor has spread at all, the radioactive seeding is probably the best course of treatment. So that’s the way we’re going to go-with the seeds. I’ll probably end up being some glow-in-the-dark freak. Maybe my dick will end up qualifying as an alternate light source.”

Dark humor at crime scenes was part of how homicide cops coped. Joanna recognized his glow-in-the-dark comment as part and parcel of that-a grim attempt to lighten the mood. But she made no attempt to reply in kind.

“How long does the seed treatment take?” she asked.

“They say it’s not that big a deal. Supposedly it’s a minor procedure. If there aren’t any complications, I’ll most likely be back at work after just a couple of days. My recovery would be a lot longer if we opted for the surgery.”

“Whatever course of treatment you choose,” Joanna said, “it has to be the one that’s right for you. Don’t choose one over another because of how much time you’ll need off.”

“Thanks, boss,” he said.

“And thank you for telling me,” Joanna said, meaning it. “Have you told anyone else?”

Ernie shook his head. “Haven’t,” he said. “Not even Jaime, and I should have. And I need to tell Frank-or you can- because he should know. But beyond that I’d like to keep a low profile because I don’t want to make a big thing of it. People are funny. As soon as they hear somebody’s got cancer, they sort of write ‘ em off. I ’m not ready to be written off. Still, whatever happens, I don’t want to leave you shorthanded.”

“Don’t worry, Ernie,” she said. “We’ll manage. The important thing is for you to do whatever you need to do in order to get better. How’s Rose?”

Ernie Carpenter used the back of one meaty paw to swipe at something in the corner of his eye. “She’s a brick,” he said, his voice breaking. “I mean, she’s always been there for me, but now-” He broke off, shaking his head, and took another sip of the beer.

“Anyway,” he continued after a short pause, “all this sort of got my attention. Made me realize that I’m not gonna live forever. Last night Rose and I went to a meeting in Tucson. It’s a support group for people who’ve had prostate cancer. That’s why I wasn’t home when you called about going to Sierra Vista. So today I got to thinking. What happens if I don’t make it? What happens if the seeds don’t work? Jaime and I have been working all right together. We’re a good team, but considering what all’s been happening around here lately, you’re going to need another couple of detectives. Have you thought about that?”

“Some,” Joanna said. “Why? Do you have a suggestion?”

Expecting him to tick off a couple of the male deputies, Joanna was surprised by his answer. “Debbie,” Ernie replied with conviction. “Debra Howell. I know she’s fairly new and all that. She’s also a single mom, which would make the extra hours tough at times, but I think she’d be able to figure out a way to make it work. You of all people would know everything there is about that juggling routine, but Debbie’s got a good head on her shoulders, and she’s a real team player. That’s what this business takes-a team effort.”

“She’d have to pass the exam,” Joanna said.

“That won’t be a problem,” Ernie said. “She’s been studying. I’ve actually been giving her some coaching on the side.”

Joanna laughed. “After all the grief you and Richard Voland gave me when I first showed up, now you’re tutoring a female deputy to help prepare her for the detective exam?”

The smallest hint of a smile tweaked the turned-down corners of Ernie Carpenter’s mouth. “Well,” he said, “after all, you turned out all right, didn’t you?”

“You think she can pass?”

“Absolutely. And not just barely, either. She’ll ace the damned thing.”

“When are you planning on going in for treatment?” Joanna asked.

“As soon as they can get me scheduled, probably sometime late next week.”

“And you’re thinking we should bring Debbie in on a provisional basis to help out with what we have going right now?”

Ernie nodded.

“Anyone else you think we should look at?” Joanna asked.

“My next choice would have been Dave Hollicker, but you already tapped him for crime scene investigation, so he’s on the team anyway. Beyond Debbie, though, with so many of the experienced deputies off in the reserves, pickings around the department are a little thin.”

Joanna and Frank Montoya had arrived at much the same conclusion-that pickings were slim. And she had discounted approaching Debbie Howell about the possibility of becoming a detective for exactly the reason Ernie had mentioned-the fact that she was a single mother. Joanna hoped Ernie was too involved in his own difficulties to notice the flush of embarrassment that flooded her face.

“I’ll take it under advisement,” Joanna said. “But don’t say anything to Debbie about it until after Frank and I have a chance to discuss it.”

“Right,” Ernie said. “I won’t breathe a word.”

He stood up. “I’d better be going,” he said. “It’s getting late. I’ve taken up enough of your time.”

At the door, Joanna reached up and gave Ernie a hug. With the baby in the middle, it was an awkward, lumpy gesture, but Ernie seemed to appreciate it.