“No word on that,” Joanna returned. “At least not from the doctor.”
In the course of the next hour or so, she tried to reach Millicent Ross several times but never got through. Joanna finally left the crime scene and dragged her weary butt into the house at 10 p.m. Everyone else seemed to be in bed. Two pieces of somewhat bedraggled pepperoni pizza had been left out for her on the kitchen counter. She downed them gratefully. If indigestion visited her again tonight, so be it.
In the bedroom, Butch was asleep with the light on and with a book plastered to his nose. Once she was undressed, she removed the book, put it on the nightstand, and doused the light. When she got into bed, Butch stirred.
“You’re home,” he said. “Are things okay?”
“Not really,” she said. “We still don’t know if Jeannine’s going to make it, and it turns out she was raped.”
“I’m sorry,” Butch mumbled sleepily. “What about you? Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” she said, although she didn’t feel fine. “All I need is a decent night’s sleep.”
But a good night’s sleep wasn’t in the cards. She had to get up three different times overnight, and each time she came back to bed she lay awake for an hour or so agonizing over what was going on at work. When she finally awoke the next morning, she could tell it was late by the way the sun was shining into the bedroom. When she looked at the clock, she was astonished to see it was already after eight.
After showering and dressing, she went looking for Butch and found him in the kitchen at his computer. “Why did you let me oversleep?” she demanded.
“Because you obviously needed it,” he returned. “You were snoring up a storm when I got out of bed. I called Frank and told him you’d be late. He said not to rush, so sit down and have your tea. I can have your breakfast ready in five.”
Glad for the temporary respite, Joanna did as she was told. “Where are your parents?” she asked.
“I asked Jenny for some help, and she sweet-talked them into taking her to school,” Butch answered. “That way I have a few minutes to work, and you can make it through the morning without any of my mother’s dogcatcher comments.”
Joanna tasted her apricot-flavored tea. It was heavenly. Butch pushed his computer aside and then went over to the stove. “What would you like?”
The question made Joanna smile. “You still sound like a short-order cook,” she said.
“I am a short-order cook,” he returned. “Eggs, bacon, toast?”
“Sounds wonderful,” Joanna said, and took another sip of tea. “So your mother was still off on her dogcatcher tangent this morning?”
“In spades,” Butch said. “Especially after Jim Bob called.”
“What did he have to say?”
“He wanted me to tell you that he and Eva Lou would be back at the pound today and for as long as you need them. He also said you shouldn’t worry, that Eva Lou and the python are getting along just fine.” Butch paused long enough to crack a pair of eggs into a skillet. “Which causes me to ask,” he added, “what python? I don’t remember anyone mentioning that Animal Control had picked up a stray python. I thought they mostly did dogs and cats.”
“They mostly do,” Joanna answered. “Jeannine picked the snake up out in Sierra Vista the other day. Some guy left town and abandoned his pet python in his old apartment. The landlady was evidently quite upset.”
“Well,” said Butch, “apparently the python is trying to become the next Houdini. He had made it out of his kennel or cage or whatever you call it and was on his way to find himself a tasty morsel of kitty-cat when Jim Bob and Eva Lou showed up. According to him, the clerk was a complete basket case, and Eva Lou spent most of the day taking care of her.”
“I so do not need a python right now,” Joanna said.
Butch grinned. “But you should have seen the effect hearing about it had on my mother. Gave a whole new meaning to her idea of what a ‘dogcatcher’s life’ is all about. Of course, if you like, we could always trade. I’ll go into the office for you or go help out around the pound, and you can stay here with my parents.”
“No deal,” Joanna returned. “I didn’t think so.”
Joanna arrived at the office at nine-thirty. She hadn’t come in all day yesterday, so her desk was buried under one day’s worth of paperwork, and Kristin was already hard at work sorting out the latest batch. Instead of starting to play catch-up, Joanna picked up her phone and dialed University Medical Center. When she asked to be put through to Jeannine Phillips’s room, Millicent Ross answered.
“How’s she doing?” Joanna asked.
“It was a rough night,” Millicent replied. “But they finally upped her pain meds. She’s sleeping now. The phone didn’t even wake her.”
“And how are you?” Joanna asked.
“Tired but okay,” Millicent said, although she didn’t sound okay.
“I know about the rape,” Joanna said.
“The lousy bastards!” Millicent breathed. “I always thought Jeannine was strong as an ox. How did they…?”
“The guy who chased them away said there were at least six of them. She didn’t stand a chance.”
“Did the O’Dwyers do it?” Millicent asked. “Are they the ones responsible?”
“We don’t know one way or the other,” Joanna said. “We’re investigating, of course. And that’s going to take time. How is she? The doctor wouldn’t give me any information.”
“I’m not surprised. I thought Waller was going to have a heart attack when he realized I wasn’t Jeannine’s mother. Thank you for that, by the way,” Millicent added. “It meant a lot to both of us. At least I’m able to be here for her. As for her long-term prospects? They’re not very good. The broken bones will mend. A decent plastic surgeon may be able to do something with her face, but her internal injuries are still life-threatening. As for her right eye? It’s gone.”
“Gone?” Joanna repeated.
“She’ll be totally blind in that eye.”
“I’m so sorry,” Joanna murmured.
“Don’t be sorry,” Millicent said. “Just get the bastards.”
“We’re doing our best,” Joanna said. “But how are you managing? Is everything under control at your clinic?”
“Yes. I dropped off all the animals from my clinic-including the little pit bull Jeannine found-with Dr. Tompkins out in Sierra Vista. If I have any emergencies, they’ll be directed to him as well.”
“You’re going to stay there then?” Joanna asked.
“Yes,” Millicent said. “For as long as it takes.”
Kristin came to the door and mimed that Joanna had another call. “Sorry to cut you off,” Joanna said, “but I have to go.” She hung up. “Who is it?” she asked Kristin.
“Tom Hadlock,” Kristin replied.
Tom was Joanna’s jail commander. “We’ve had a little incident,” he said when Joanna came on the line.
Fresh from the disturbing news about Jeannine’s injuries, the idea of any kind of jail incident-little or otherwise-made Joanna’s blood run cold. “What kind of incident?” she asked.
“There was a dustup with some cell-made weapons out in the exercise yard.”
“Was anyone hurt?”
“Not badly enough for stitches. The guards broke it up right away. The two guys involved are in solitary, and the whole jail is under lockdown while we search for additional weapons. In other words, it’s all under control, but I wanted you to know what’s going on.”
“Thanks, Tom,” she said. “I appreciate it.”
For a few minutes after the second phone call she sat staring into space. Then she picked up the notebook she took to the briefings and wrote: “Discuss with Frank. Need new ACO.”
Moments later, the man himself appeared in her doorway. “Time for the briefing,” he said.
“You heard about the problem at the jail?”
Frank nodded. “It’s a good thing the guards stopped it when they did. It could have been a lot worse, but there is some good news.”