“That’s what Jeff’s worried about. In their family, Marianne has always been the major breadwinner. Jeff has the garage, and he does excellent work, but Auto Rehab, Inc., is a long way from making a profit or from being able to support a family of three. Jeff doesn’t know what they’re going to do. Did you say anything to Marianne, try to talk her out of it?”
“1 tried to talk her into seeing a doctor,” Joanna said. “She’s depressed, and understandably so. I told her she needs to give herself a chance to feel better before she does anything rash.”
“Is she going to?” Butch asked. “See a doctor, I mean?”
“I don’t think so. I’ve known Marianne Maculyea since we were both in junior high. She’s always had a mind of her own.”
Just then, the phone rang. Joanna hurried across the room to answer it.
“Sheriff Brady?”
Joanna recognized the desk sergeant’s voice as soon as Lisa Howard spoke. “Yes, Lisa. It’s me. What’s happening?”
“You remember that missing person’s case Chief Deputy Montoya filed earlier this evening?”
“On Alice Rogers?”
“Yes,” Lisa answered.
“What about it? Have they found her?”
“They haven’t found her yet, but they did locate her car.”
“Where?”
“At the border crossing in Nogales. Four young Hispanic juveniles tried to drive it across the line. When Border Patrol ordered the vehicle to stop, they all bailed out and made a run for it. Three of them were picked up by Federales. They’re in jail in Nogales, Sonora. The fourth one wasn’t armed but he looked like he was. He was shot in the leg when officers opened fire. According to the Santa Cruz County dispatcher, he’s being airlifted to Tucson. University Medical Center or T.M.C., I’m not sure which. We’re hoping that he’ll be able to tell its where they left Alice Rogers.”
“How bad is the kid hurt?” Joanna asked.
“No way to tell at this point. I talked to one of the EMT’s who treated him at the scene. His best guess is that once they get him to Tucson he’ll go straight into surgery.”
Unaware that she had been holding her breath, Joanna let it out. The word “juvenile” could cover a lot of ground-from relatively harmless joyriders to cold-blooded gang-based killers. Depending on which variety Alice Rogers had encountered, she was either more or less likely to have been left alive. Unfortunately, the clock was ticking. With each passing hour the odds of her continued survival were vastly reduced.
“Has anyone let Frank Montoya know what’s going on?”
“I called Chief Deputy Montoya first thing,” Lisa Howard said. “Just before I called you. He said to tell you that he’s heading down to Nogales to see what detectives on the case have to say. After that, he’ll go to Tucson. He wants to be available when the suspect comes out of surgery and can speak with investigators.”
“Thanks for keeping me posted, Lisa,” Joanna said. “Tell Frank to let me know what develops.”
“Regardless of how late it is?”
“Regardless.”
Joanna hung up the phone and put it back down on the counter. Butch Dixon was studying her from across the room. “Bad news?” he asked.
She nodded. “A missing person,” she told him. Briefly Joanna filled Butch in on what had happened.
“Are you going to have to go in?” he asked.
“I don’t know yet, and I won’t for a while.”
Butch stood up and began to clear his place. “This wasn’t exactly how I hoped the evening would end,” he said quietly. “With Jenny already in bed and asleep, I had something more romantic in mind rather than a dinner followed by a missing person’s investigation.”
Joanna gave him a weak smile. “So did l,” she said quietly.
She watched him carry his plate to the sink. He rinsed it, then loaded the plate and his silverware into the dishwasher. She liked his purposeful, economical movements. Liked the way he made himself a contributing part of the household rather than a guest. He seemed to be quietly weaving his way into the fabric of her life, but without making unreasonable demands. Joanna found Butch easy to be with, even though he knew they would most likely spend whatever was left of the evening waiting for the telephone to ring.
“I don’t deserve you,” she said quietly.
He grinned. “Yes, you do.”
He came across the kitchen then and gathered her into a tight embrace. He held her for a long time, and she made no attempt to pull away. Finally, he was the one who broke it off.
“Come on,” he said. “Bring the phone and let’s go sit on the couch where it’s comfortable. And that’s where I’ll spend the night-on the couch. That way, if you do have to go in, someone will be here to look after Jenny when she wakes up.”
CHAPTER THREE
When Joanna awakened the next morning, that’s exactly where she found Butch-sound asleep on her living room couch. They had waited up for some time, expecting a phone call. When none came, they had finally ventured into the bedroom. Sometime after Joanna fell asleep, Butch must have crept out of bed. Joanna was grateful for his discretion when, moments after she reached the kitchen to make coffee, Jenny appeared at her side.
“What’s Butch doing on the couch?” she asked.
“Sleeping,” Joanna said.
“I know that. But why?”
“Because if I had been called into the office during the night, somebody would have been here to look after you.”
Pouring herself a bowl of cereal, Jenny scowled. “To baby-sit, you mean. I’m not a baby.”
“No, you’re not. But eleven is still too young to be left here alone at night.”
By the time Joanna finished showering and dressing and returned to the kitchen, Butch was seated in the breakfast nook drinking coffee and chatting amiably with Jenny, who was munching her way through a peanut-butter-slathered English muffin.
As soon as Joanna entered the kitchen, the conversation ground to a sudden, awkward halt. By the time she had poured her own cup of coffee, Jenny had taken her dishes to the counter and was busily stowing them in the dishwasher. Joanna took Jenny’s place in the breakfast nook. “I hope I’m not interrupting something,” she said.
“Oh, no,” Butch replied with a conspiratorial grin. “We’re all done, aren’t we, Jenny?”
From the kitchen doorway, Jenny looked back and nodded. “And you won’t tell? Promise?”
“Cross my heart.”
Satisfied by his words of reassurance, Jenny disappeared into the living room. Joanna turned an appraising eye on Butch. “Does that mean you really won’t tell me?” she asked.
“Yup,” he said. “That’s what it means.”
Joanna shook her head. She was grateful that Jenny and Butch clearly liked one another, but it bothered Joanna to discover their sharing secrets that didn’t include her. It felt as though they were ganging up on her, double-teaming. It made her feel out of the loop and more than slightly resentful. If there was something important going on in her daughter’s life-some important issue that required an adult consultation-Joanna felt she was the one Jenny should have turned to for guidance.
“You’re awfully quiet,” Butch said a minute or so later. “You’re not upset about this, are you?”
“Upset?” Joanna repeated. “Of course I’m not upset. Don’t be ridiculous.”
Her misgivings to the contrary, Joanna agreed to let Butch drive Jenny to school. Meanwhile, Joanna continued to mull over the secrecy issue as she drove herself from High Lonesome Ranch to the Cochise County Justice Complex three miles away. Those private concerns left her the moment she stepped inside her office. Within minutes she was pulled into an escalating whirl of activity that allowed little time for introspection.
Monday morning roll call was the one time a week when as many of her far-flung deputies as possible assembled in the conference room. That gathering was one Joanna tried to attend on a regular basis. It was a way of staying in touch with officers in the field. Once roll call was over, Joanna retreated to the privacy of her own office for the daily briefing with her two chief deputies.