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“You had money?”

“Enough. Mrs. Quick’s son told me she was dead, so that didn’t work. I called Ms. Goodson, but when her answering machine came on I didn’t know what to say so I left my name but I didn’t leave a message. There was no way for her to call me back. Finally, I reached Sister Celeste. We talked, but someone came up to use the phone. I told her I’d call her back later, but I never had a chance to call again until Sunday morning.

“I was asleep in my bedroll when Big Red woke me up and told me someone was coming. I don’t know for sure it was him, but I ran away and left everything behind. I didn’t dare go back for it.”

“I don’t know if it was your mother’s killer,” Joanna said, “but whoever it was who found your camp, he broke up your bike and tore up everything else you left there.”

Lucy’s eyes were wide. “That means Big Red saved my life,” she said.

“I believe so,” Joanna returned. “So what happened then?”

“I hid for a while. Then, later, I started walking. I walked until I came to a ranch. I told the lady I had gotten lost while I was out hiking with my family. She let me use the phone. I called Sister Celeste, and she came to get me. She brought a hood for Big Red, otherwise he never would have gotten in her car. And we’ve been here ever since while she and Father Mulligan tried to decide what to do.”

“What about your gun?” Joanna asked, remembering for the first time the.22 Catherine Yates claimed Lucy had taken along with the bedroll and extra clothing.

Lucy shrugged. “Sister Celeste told me to give it to Father Mulligan, and I did,” she said. “But it was no big deal. It wasn’t loaded, and I forgot to bring along any ammunition.”

A relieved Joanna was gearing up for her next question when her cell phone rang. She was tempted to ignore it. “Aren’t you going to answer that?” Lucy asked, shaming Joanna into it.

“Hello.”

“Joanna!” Butch Dixon breathed. “Thank God I caught you. Where are you?”

Quickly, Joanna looked at her watch. It was only five. Certainly she wasn’t already late for dinner. Besides, the breathless urgency in Butch’s voice boded something far more serious than that.

“I’m in Saint David,” she answered. “I really shouldn’t be interrupted right now. I’m in the middle of an interview.”

“You’ve got to come home right now!”

The ferocity in Butch’s order took Joanna’s breath away. “What is it?” she demanded. “What’s happened?”

“I’m leaving the vet’s right now. Dr. Ross says whatever the poison is, both dogs got into it. She’s administering an emetic, and she’s hoping we got them here in time.”

“Poison?” Joanna repeated. “Did you say poison?”

“Yes. Both dogs, Tigger and Sadie. Jenny is in the treatment room with them. She’s been a brick, but I’ve called Eva Lou. She and Jim Bob are coming here to take Jenny home with them, then I’ll go back out to the house. Deputy Howell is there keeping an eye on things.”

“Butch, what the hell has happened?”

“Just come home, Joanna,” he begged. “Please. You’re not going to believe me if I try to tell you. You’ll have to see it with your own eyes.”

CHAPTER 24

Joanna left Holy Trinity in such a hurry that she didn’t take time to track down Sister Celeste and say she was going. After scrabbling her way back up the crumbling, sandy bank, she did turn back to wave at Lucy Ridder, but Lucy didn’t respond. Instead, she walked over to the cottonwood and proceeded to coax Big Red down out of the tree and onto her shoulder.

Even in her own turmoil, Joanna was moved by the wonderful simplicity in that act and by the visible bond of trust that existed between the lonely girl and the bird she had rescued and raised. It was nothing short of miraculous that Lucy-a child whose life had been torn apart by forces beyond her control-could find comfort in caring for something else. Joanna had no doubt that Lucy’s concern for Big Red accounted for the young woman’s very survival. Had she not saved a little hatchling from starvation, the grown bird wouldn’t have been there to warn a sleeping Lucy that someone dangerous was headed for her camp in Texas Canyon.

Speeding toward home with her lights flashing and siren blaring, Joanna couldn’t get that thought out of her mind. There were only three people who could possibly have known that Lucy Ridder was calling from the rest area pay phone-Jay Quick, Sister Celeste, and Melanie Goodson. Jay Quick had called his concerns to Joanna as soon as he put Lucy’s name together with the fact that Sandra Ridder had been murdered. Sister Celeste had done everything humanly possible to protect Lucy from whoever was following her. That left only Melanie Goodson-someone who had lied about receiving a middle-of-the-night phone call but someone who was also dead.

That meant that at the moment, Bill Forsythe was the only one working on the single real lead in the case. Tomorrow, Joanna promised herself. Tomorrow I’ll get Ernie and Jaime playing catch-up ball.

Once past Tombstone, between there and the Mule Mountains, Joanna kept her blue lights flashing behind the Crown Victoria’s grille. The speedometer hovered right around 95 miles per hour. She made no effort to listen to the chatter on the police radio. In fact, she actively blocked it out. Butch had said she needed to see it-whatever it was-for herself. No matter what, it couldn’t possibly be that bad, could it?

She tried to imagine what the crisis might be. Butch was all right, and he had said Jenny was fine. And since Jim Bob and Eva Lou were coming for Jenny, they must be okay as well. But the dogs-Sadie and Tigger. Who would have ventured onto High Lonesome Ranch and poisoned Jenny’s dogs?

After puzzling over the problem for several minutes, Joanna wondered if it wasn’t possible that the dogs had simply gotten into something they shouldn’t have. Tigger especially was always sticking his nose into places where it didn’t belong. That was especially true when it came to porcupines. To her knowledge, Joanna kept no harmful chemicals lying around the place, but maybe there were some she didn’t know about-maybe something Clayton Rhodes had used in the course of his chores during his last few days on the ranch and had neglected to put away. Even so, thanks to Butch’s prompt action, the dogs were being cared for by Bisbee’s newly arrived vet. Joanna prayed that Dr. Millicent Ross would be able to work her curative magic.

Maybe the house was hit by a fire, she thought. If it is, we’ll rebuild. It won’t be that bad. Then, a little later she added, Please, God. Whatever it is, don’t let it be that bad.

Coming through the highway cuts between Bisbee and the Double Adobe turnoff, Joanna scanned the upper reaches of the Sulphur Springs Valley. In the spot where she knew her house to be, she saw the telltale pulsing glow of lights from any number of emergency vehicles. There were lots of lights, but there was no dark smudge of smoke rising skyward, no layer of smoke drifting north across the valley. So no, it wasn’t a fire then, or, if a fire had occurred, someone had put it out much earlier.

Joanna slowed down and turned off, first onto Double Adobe Road and then onto High Lonesome. The whole situation seemed weird to her. On the one hand she was a police officer responding to the report of an incident. It could have been an ordinary car wreck or homicide, except this one was different. When she arrived, the smashed car or worse would belong to her. How was that possible? How could it be?