"Why are you telling me all this, Delcia? At lunch today, you wouldn't give me the time of day, and now, a few hours later, it's full-disclosure time. What's going on?"
"I've done some checking on you, Detective Beaumont," she said at last.
"Oh? What kind of checking?"
"I've talked with a number of people in Seattle-Captain Lawrence Powell, for one. Sergeant Watkins, and your partner, Allen Lindstrom."
"You have been busy," I observed. "What did they say?"
Irrepressible laughter bubbled up through her weariness. "They all said that you're a regular pain in the ass on occasion, but they all agreed unanimously that you're way too smart to shoot somebody with your own gun and then hide the weapon in your car."
"Some friends," I snorted.
Delcia grew serious again. "Convincing friends," she said. "Altogether, they made a pretty good case."
"So where do we stand?"
She didn't acknowledge my question. "Did Michelle Owens know where Rhonda was staying?"
I thought about it for a moment. "Michelle? I don't know. Why? I remember Rhonda saying that she had invited Michelle to the funeral. She may have mentioned then that she was staying at La Posada."
"Michelle Owens has turned up missing," Delcia answered grimly. "From her house, sometime during the night last night. I've been on the phone with her father off and on all afternoon."
"What does this mean? Did she take off on her own, or did somebody grab her?" I asked.
"My first guess, after I talked to him, was that she left of her own accord. Now, after this business here, I'm not so sure. Did anyone else know where Rhonda was staying?"
"I don't know. Ralph Ames, my attorney, and I both knew. And as far as that goes, Rhonda could have told any number of people."
Delcia nodded. "I guess you're right."
"You said you thought at first that Michelle left on her own. Why? What did her father say?"
"That the two of them had had a big fight last night. He'd evidently made an appointment for Michelle to go to an abortion clinic in Tucson early next week, but she didn't want to go. He said he went to bed without worrying about it because he was sure he could get her to change her mind. This morning, though, when he got up, Michelle wasn't in her room. She's disappeared without a trace."
"Any sign of foul play?" I asked.
"None, and nothing seems to be missing. The officers on the scene are betting she has simply run away."
"So did she?"
"I don't know," Delcia replied. "If someone came looking for Rhonda, they might have come looking for Michelle as well."
"Exactly."
"And I don't like the score. Joey's dead. One attempt on Rhonda and two on you, so whoever's behind this isn't playing games."
"You've got that one right," I told her. "That bastard in the pickup wasn't out for a friendly game of chicken. He'd have nailed us good if I hadn't gotten to him first."
"There's a third possibility," Delcia said.
"What's that?"
"What if Michelle was the woman those kids saw in the truck?"
I didn't like it, but the theory carried with it a certain ugly plausibility. Delcia didn't seem to like it much either.
"It's more likely that she just took off, that it all got to be too much for her. Think about it. The girl's pregnant, her boyfriend dies, her father wants her to have an abortion, the boy's mother wants her to keep the baby. That's a hell of a load for someone to carry around when they're only fifteen years old."
"It's a hell of a load at any age," I said, reminded once more of my own mother's struggles.
Again we fell silent. Although I appreciated the changed basis between us, I couldn't just let it go at that. I had to pick at the scab and know what lay under it.
"So how come I'm not a civilian anymore, Delcia? I don't mind, not at all, but I'd like to know why."
"Maybe I need the opinion of an outside observer," she replied. Her answer sounded coy, and I balked at the idea that she was putting me off again.
"Why?"
She sighed as though finally giving in to something she'd done her best to sidestep. "Today, after I talked to you at lunch, I did some checking into the prosecutor who arranged Joey Rothman's MIP. There seem to be some irregularities in the plea-bargain arrangement."
"Like what?"
"Like the charges should have been a whole lot stiffer than they were."
"You mean drugs?"
She nodded. "It wasn't a simple first offense, either. I'm still not sure how the prosecutor pulled it off. It could be nothing more than James Rothman's highly placed connections…" Her voice drifted away, leaving the sentence dangling.
"Or…" I prompted.
"You have to understand I've been curious about Ironwood Ranch for years. Not anything definite, not anything that ever made it as far as a conscious thought, but curious. There have been hints of trouble occasionally, but until the Rothman case, nothing ever got out of hand."
"That's because Louise Crenshaw always kept a lid on it," I put in.
"And Louise always had help," Delcia added.
"Who?"
"Sheriff Heagerty," she answered. "He's a former client of Ironwood Ranch, and so's the MIP prosecutor. Not only that, Calvin Crenshaw was a major contributor to Heagerty's reelection campaign during the last two elections."
"So what are you thinking?"
"That maybe they both got hung up in Louise Crenshaw's little sideshow."
"That would explain a lot, wouldn't it," I breathed, "but do you have any proof?"
"I'm working on it. In my spare time, but I'm on real thin ice, and I can't afford to go through regular channels on this. That's why I'm using you as a sounding board. I need someone I'm sure isn't tarred with Louise Crenshaw's brush. She never managed to get her claws into you."
I smiled at Delcia's comment. "I thought I was the only one who noticed Louise Crenshaw's talons. So what do you think? Are the Crenshaws involved in this business too? Are they part of Joey's supply system?"
"Maybe, and maybe not. I don't know what to think. I sure as hell can't afford to disregard them, but the problem is, I'm pretty much working alone at least as far as Yavapai County is concerned. My guess is that Sheriff Heagerty wants me spread too thin to do anything constructive. If I hadn't been so tired, if I had been thinking straight, I would have asked for protection for Rhonda and Michelle both. Even then, it might not have helped, but still…"
She turned and looked me full in the face. "As far as Rhonda's concerned, you saved the day. I want you to know I'm grateful."
"You're welcome," I said, "for that and for saving my own ass too, but it would have been a helluva lot easier if I'd been armed. When that creep came after us, I felt like we were sitting ducks."
"Do you ever go to swap meets?" Delcia asked suddenly.
The abrupt detour in the conversation sounded as though Delcia Reyes-Gonzales had reverted to her earlier game-playing.
"Swap meets?" I asked stupidly. "You mean, like in garage sales?"
She nodded, but I shook my head. "Not me. Buying somebody else's cast-off junk isn't my idea of a good deal."
"Maybe you should check into them," Delcia said seriously. "In fact, I believe there's one at Phoenix Greyhound Race Track on Saturdays and Sundays. I'd try it, if I were you. It's on Washington, east of the airport. Do you think you can find it?"
"I'm sure I can, but why would I want to?"
"The guy's name is Zeke. From what I've heard, he's there every weekend. He sells guns. Used, of course. From a private collection."
"Privately," I said, getting the picture. "So there's no three-day waiting period?"
"That's right."
"And you're suggesting I go get myself one."
"Who, me?" she asked innocently. "Certainly not. I never said anything of the kind."
Just then Ralph Ames walked up to the car and tapped on Delcia's window.