“From the date of your last period, I’d estimate your due date to be March 7. Of course, human pregnancy isn’t an exact science,” he added. “I can tell you the due date but the baby will arrive when it’s ready-before or after, depending. Are you going to want to know in advance whether it’s a boy or a girl?”
“Yes,” Butch said at the same time Joanna was shaking her head no.
Dr. Lee laughed. “Welcome to parenthood,” he said. “This is only the first of many things the two of you will need to discuss and decide on. Let me know next month, when you come in for your next appointment.”
“What about morning sickness?” Butch asked.
“What about it?” Dr. Lee replied.
“Is there something she can take … ?”
“Never mind,” Joanna put in quickly. “It’s not that bad, and it’ll probably go away in a few more weeks. It did last time.”
Dr. Lee nodded. “If you can tough it out without taking medication, it’s usually better for the baby. There can be side effects, you see …”
“I know,” Joanna said. “I’ll be fine.”
For the next several minutes, Dr. Lee went over a list of general dos and don’ts.
Finally he looked at Butch. “This is your first?”
Butch nodded.
“If you plan to be in the delivery room with her, you’ll both need to sign up for a Lamaze class.”
Butch looked at Joanna. “Is that what you want?”
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“Of course it’s what I want, silly. If you think I’m going through that all on my own, you’re nuts.”
“All right, then,” Butch said. “Tell me where and when to sign up and I’m there.”
It was close to noon by the time they finished up with Dr. Lee, so they stopped by Daisy’s for lunch. Wednesday was Cornish pasty day, and Butch and Joanna split one of Daisy’s massive, plate-sized meat pies.
“You’re sure you don’t want to know the sex in advance?” Butch asked.
“I’m sure.”
“But that means we have to come up with two names-one for a boy and one for a girl.”
“That’s right,” Joanna agreed. “So start thinking.”
They had driven into town in separate cars. When lunch was over, Joanna kissed Butch goodbye in the parking lot. While he returned to High Lonesome Ranch, Joanna headed for the department. She felt slightly guilty about showing up late on a day when there was bound to be so much catch-up paperwork to do, but then again, she didn’t feel that guilty.
She was at her desk and surveying the damage when Andrea Mossman called. “I heard about it on the news,” she said. “I just got off the phone with Denny.”
“How’s Nathan?” Joanna asked.
“About how you’d expect. He’s pretty broken up.”
‘And your grandmother?”
“She’s a tough old bird,” Andrea said. “She’s doing remarkably well.”
“I have a note here from my chief deputy,” Joanna said. “Police officers in Obregon have been dispatched to the ranch to notify Kelly and …”
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“… and Dad’s other wives,” Andrea supplied.
“Do you have any idea what kind of arrangements will need to be made as far as your father’s remains are concerned, once the autopsy is done and the body is released?”
“I don’t care what happens to him,” Andrea said. “And I doubt Grandma does, either.
Talk to his other families. If they want him, they can have him-as long as they pay for shipping. I already discussed this with Grandma. She’s not paying a dime, and I’m not either.”
“What about Cecilia?” Joanna asked.
“Grandma and I have an appointment with a GPS caseworker later on this afternoon.
I wanted to talk to them before somebody brings Cecilia out of the Lassiter compound.
Cecilia hasn’t ever met me, and she probably has no idea her grandmother even exists.
But if Grandma and I can help her, we will. I do have some experience with this kind of thing.”
“What about the boy?” Joanna asked.
“What boy?” Andrea returned.
“Josiah. The one in the Lassiter compound who helped Pam Davis and Carmen Ortega film the wedding.”
“We’ll try to get him out at the same time,” Andrea said. “If old man Lassiter figures out who was responsible, he’ll make his life hell.”
As if it wasn’t already, Joanna thought.
After she got off the phone, the day turned into a marathon of paperwork. In addition to the usual day-to-day e-mail and correspondence, there were reports to be read-reports from Jaime Carbajal and Ernie Carpenter. And there were case-clearing phone calls and faxes back and forth between the Cochise County Sheriff’s Department and Sheriff Trotter’s office over in Hidalgo
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County. Joanna should have felt triumphant, but she didn’t. Too many people were dead-too many lives ruined. Clearing cases under those circumstances made for hollow victories.
It was almost three o’clock when Kristin came into the office. “Sorry to interrupt, Sheriff Brady,” she said. “But there are some people here to see you.”
“Who?”
“They wouldn’t give their names.”
They would have if you’d tried a little harder, Joanna thought wearily.
Sighing, she rose and followed Kristin back out into the lobby. Outside her office, she found two Hispanic women-a young one and one much older-seated side by side on the love seat facing Kristin’s desk. They were both dressed in black. The younger woman’s hair was loose. The older one’s hair was in a long gray braid that was wrapped around the top of her head like a silver crown. Over her head and shoulders she wore an old-fashioned mantilla.
The younger woman rose and stepped toward Joanna, holding out her hand. “Sheriff Brady?”
Joanna nodded.
“My name is Gabriella Padilla. This is my mother, Ramona Quiroz. Maria Elena Maldonado, the woman who died after that car wreck the other day, was my cousin, my mother’s sister’s child.”
“Oh, yes,” Joanna said. “Won’t you come in?”
Gabriella went back to her mother and helped the old woman rise to her feet. Her hands and fingers were twisted and gnarled by arthritis. It was painful for her to walk and painful to watch her do it. Gabriella led her into the inner office while 352
Joanna hurriedly pulled out a chair at the conference table, which was far closer to the door than the chairs in front of her desk.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Joanna said when they were seated. She waited while Gabriella translated.
“Gracias,” Mrs. Quiroz returned and then added something more in Spanish.
“She says it is God’s will,” Gabriella explained.
It has nothing at all to do with God’s will! Joanna thought savagely.
“The funeral was this morning,” Gabriella continued. “In Tucson. Maria Elena’s husband, Tomas, is … well … if he tried to take them back home for a funeral, he wouldn’t be able to return.”
“He’s illegal?” Joanna asked.
Gabriella paused and then nodded. “That’s why they were coming-to be with Tomas.
He paid for them to come. But since he can’t go back, Maria Elena and Little Eddie will have to be buried here.”
“I’m sorry,” Joanna said again.
Gabriella’s eyes filled with tears. She nodded. “I’m sorry, too.”
There was a pause. During the period of silence, Joanna was aware of Ramona Quiroz’s steady eyes examining her face with unblinking scrutiny. What is she looking at?
Joanna wondered. Is there something wrong with me-with what I’m wearing, with the way I look?
Finally Gabriella continued. “I apologize for dropping in on you like this, but I work-in the tortilla factory in Barrio Anita,” she said. “They let me have today off for the funeral. After the service, my mother insisted that I bring her here.”
“Why?” Joanna asked.
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