“Have him bring her in,” Lani said.

“You’re sure?” Dena asked.

“I’m sure.”

Sells, Tohono O’odham Nation, Arizona

Sunday, June 7, 2009, 1:00 a.m.

68º Fahrenheit

Angie woke up as Dan carried her into the ER and set her down on the examining table.

“Where are we?” she asked. “Where’s my mommy?”

“We’re at the hospital here in Sells so someone can look at the cuts on your legs and feet,” Dan explained. “Your mommy’s not here right now.”

Angie studied his face for a long time. Finally she nodded.

Hoping the clerk had clued the ER staff in on what had happened out by Komelik, he looked to the doctor for help. He did not expect Dr. Walker-Dr. Lanita Dolores Walker, as her name tag said-to be a woman or an Indian. And he certainly didn’t expect her to be beautiful. It turned out she was all three.

She stepped forward and gave Angie a reassuring smile. “This nice man brought you here so we could look at your feet and your legs,” she said. “You have quite a few scratches. What happened?”

“I went for a walk in the desert,” Angie said in a whisper. “I left my shoes in the car.”

Dr. Walker touched Angie’s knee. It was scraped and scabby. It was also hot.

“I’ll bet you were out in the desert for a long time,” she said. “Have you had anything to drink? Are you thirsty?”

“I was going to give her something to drink and something to eat, too,” Dan said quickly. “But she fell asleep as soon as I got her back to the car. The way things were going, I didn’t want to wake her up.”

Nodding, Dr. Walker called for a nurse to bring a bottle of Gatorade. Then she turned back to Angie. “What were you doing out in the desert?”

“I was there with my mommy and Donald.”

While Angie sipped her drink, Dr. Walker examined the cuts and scrapes on the little girl’s feet and legs, cleaning them and dosing them with antiseptic as she went. When Angie whimpered in pain, Dan stepped forward and took her hand.

“It’s okay,” he said. “It may hurt a little, but this will make it better.”

“I’ve heard about Mr. Pardee here,” Dr. Walker said to Angie. “I understand he usually has a big dog with him.”

Angie nodded. “His name is Bozo,” she said. “I got to pet him.”

“He didn’t bite you?” Dr. Walker asked.

Angie shook her head. “I thought he would, but he’s really nice.”

Dan was taken aback again. He supposed that, in terms of gossip, the reservation was like any other small town. Dr. Walker had probably heard tales about the terrible ohb who worked with the Shadow Wolves and who went on patrol in the company of an immense and supposedly incredibly fierce German shepherd.

“Can I use the bathroom?” Angie asked.

“Sure,” Dr. Walker said. “I’ll have the nurse take you.”

The same nurse who had brought the Gatorade lifted Angie down from the examining table, took her hand, and led her away toward a restroom. Watching her walk away from him, Dan felt like his heart was going to break. But, of course, that was what was going to happen here. The door to the examining room wasn’t the only one that would swing shut. From now on, strangers would be taking charge of Angie’s life and handing her off to whoever was destined to care for her. As Dan had explained to the admitting clerk, he was only the guy who had found her, nothing more.

“That’s a good sign,” Dr. Walker was saying.

“What?” Dan asked.

“That she needs to use the bathroom. She probably isn’t that seriously dehydrated. We won’t need to give her IV fluids.”

“Oh,” he said. “I’m glad of that.” He didn’t want to see Angie poked with a needle-any kind of needle.

“What kind of a name is Pardee?” Dr. Walker asked. “It doesn’t sound Apache to me.”

“It’s not,” Dan answered. “It’s a made-up name-my father’s made-up name. He was a stuntman in Hollywood. An Anglo-Irish, I believe. A Milgahn,” he added.

Dan might have pointed out that Lanita Dolores Walker didn’t sound like a Tohono O’odham name, either, but he didn’t. Realizing that he had said the word Milgahn aloud, he was embarrassed. When Dr. Walker replied with one of her glorious smiles he decided she was either laughing at him or else she liked it. Dan couldn’t tell which.

“How did you learn that word?” she asked.

“I bought a dictionary,” he said. “I’ve been studying.”

The doctor’s smile disappeared, but she nodded. “All right, then,” she said. “Now, getting back to Angie. Has the mother’s family been notified?”

Dan shook his head. “The M.E. was just arriving as I left the scene, but I talked to Detective Fellows. He said that officers from Law and Order most likely will handle the next-of-kin notification.”

“That’s true,” Dr. Walker said. “Although Brian Fellows could probably do it, too. He’s a good guy. People would accept it from him.”

“You know Detective Fellows?” Dan asked.

Dr. Walker nodded. “We go way back. But no matter who does the notification, it’s going to take some time. I’d rather Angie weren’t there while all of that is going on. Too traumatic.”

Me, too, Dan Pardee thought.

“So I’m going to admit her for right now,” Dr. Walker continued. “I’m sure her family will show up to collect her first thing in the morning, but if you’d like to sit with her for a while, until she gets settled into her room, I’m sure that would be fine.”

“Thank you,” Dan said. “I’ll be glad to.”

Thank you more than you know.

Tucson, Arizona

Saturday, June 6, 2009, 11:00 p.m.

72º Fahrenheit

Once Diana showed up, Brandon let Damsel out for her last walk. When they came back in from that, Diana was sitting in the living room studying the baskets.

“How was it?” he asked.

“How was what?”

“The party?”

“Abby wasn’t there,” Diana said.

“Abby?”

“Abigail Tennant. She’s been doing the night-blooming cereus party for years. She was the one who originally invited Lani to do the storytelling honors tonight. It’s not good manners to issue that kind of invitation and then be a no-show yourself.”

Brandon shrugged. “Maybe she came down with something,” he said.

“It’s still rude,” Diana insisted. “How was your day?”

Diana had been so distant of late that Brandon was a little surprised by her question. “Geet Farrell’s wife called and wanted me to stop by, so I did.”

“I remember Geet. How is he?”

“Not so good,” Brandon answered. “I’m afraid it won’t be long now.”

“I knew he had cancer. Are you saying he’s dying?”

Brandon nodded. “They’re doing hospice care at home,” he said.

“Why did he want to see you?”

“He handed over a case file to me-an unsolved homicide from 1959.”

“That’s a while ago,” Diana said, smiling.

“It is,” Brandon agreed. “I’ve spent the afternoon going over what he had, including a lead that came in just before they slapped Geet in the hospital this last time. I called the woman tonight after I got home. She lives down by Sonoita, and she invited me to come see her. I’m driving down there tomorrow morning. Want to come along?”

“Tomorrow?” Diana asked. “If the case is already that old, why the big rush now?”

“Because, as I said, Geet is dying,” Brandon said. “This case is one that has deviled him for years. If it turns out to be solvable, I’d like to do that for him before it’s too late.”

Diana nodded. “I see,” she said.

“Would you like to ride along?”

“Could we take the Invicta?” Diana asked. “With the top down?”

Brandon started to object. It was June, after all. It was likely to be hot as blue blazes, but this was the first time in a long time that Diana had shown much interest in anything. Besides, the last he had heard she wanted to unload her pride and joy. It would be fun to take it on one last road trip.