“What’s going on?” Butch asked.
Joanna told him, “See there,” he said when she finished. “You don’t want a husband; you just want a baby-sitter.”
The phone call from Carmen Flores had erased all Joanna’s playfulness. “If it’s a problem, Butch, I can take her to Jim Bob and Eva Lou’s.”
“Come on, Joanna. I was teasing. You know Jenny’s welcome to stay here. How long do you think you’ll be?” “I don’t know.”
“Since tomorrow’s a school day, why don’t Junior and I give Jenny a ride out to the ranch a little later. That way, he can meet the animals, and Jenny can get to bed at a halfway decent hour.”
“It might be late,” Joanna hedged. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”
“Not at all. It’s fine. Junior and I don’t have school tomorrow. It won’t matter if we get in late.”
“All right then,” Joanna said. “I’ll see you out at High Lonesome later on.” She put the Blazer in gear and started to back away.
“Did you tell her?” Butch asked, pacing beside the Blazer down the driveway.
“I didn’t have time. The call came in and-”
“It’s okay. You’ll have another chance. In the meantime, 1’11 do my best to keep her out of your mother’s clutches.”
“Thanks,” Joanna said.
On the way uptown from Butch’s Saginaw neighborhood, Joanna used her cell phone in an attempt to call both Mark Childers and Karen Brainard. When there was no answer at either place, Joanna’s sense of unease heightened. Her next call was to Dispatch, where Tica Romero was on duty. Joanna gave the dispatcher both names and phone numbers. “I don’t have the addresses, but I’m sure you can get them. I want officers sent to each address to check things out.”
“Any idea of what they should be looking for?” Tica asked.
Joanna was afraid she did know-a possible kidnapping and/or homicide. Maybe even two. “I’m not sure,” she said. “Signs of struggle, maybe. Warn the investigating officers to be careful. Have them keep a lookout for a silver Taurus station wagon that belongs to Lewis Flores. Run a DMV check and broadcast the license. Flores is to be considered armed and dangerous.”
Tica seemed stunned. “Are we talking about the same Lewis Flores I know?” she asked. “The one from O.K. Street up in Old Bisbee?”
“That’s him,” Joanna said. “He’s been caught in the middle of this Oak Vista controversy. After the board of supervisors took him to task yesterday, I’m afraid he may have gone off the deep end. He may be out to get Childers or Brainard, or he may end up taking his frustrations out on himself.”
“Armed and dangerous,” Tica repeated. “And maybe suicidal to boot.”
“That just about covers it,” Joanna said.
Parking on O.K. Street and setting the emergency brake against the steep incline, Joanna climbed out of the Blazer. Next to a narrow concrete stairway marked “ 116” was a sturdy wooden lean-to that passed as a garage. Inside was a blue Ford Escort, but a silver Taurus station wagon was nowhere in sight.
Climbing the flight of thirty-two steep stairs took stamina. Joanna was breathless by the time she reached the top and found herself standing in a postage-stamp-sized yard perched on the flank of the mountain. Inside the yard stood a small frame house. Carmen Flores came to the door before Joanna raised her hand to knock.
“Come in,” she said. “Lewis still isn’t here.”
“Have you found a note or anything that might give us a clue about what he’s up to or where he went?”
Carmen shook her head. “Nothing,” she said.
“Can you tell what he was wearing?”
“His work clothes are all in the closet. I checked.” “He goes hunting, doesn’t he?” Joanna asked.
Carmen’s face suddenly brightened. “Maybe that’s it,” she offered eagerly. “It’s whitetail season right now, isn’t it? That’s probably what happened. Lewis went hunting and just forgot to tell me about it. I don’t know why I didn’t think of that on my own.”
The woman seemed to be grasping at straws, but Joanna didn’t want to be responsible for snatching away Carmen Flores’ last vestige of hope. “Where does he keep his limiting gear?” Joanna asked.
“In a little shed out back,” Carmen said. “I It, keeps every thing out there in a trunk except for his guns. Not as much clutter that way. Come on. I’ll show you.”
The shed out back had an open padlock hanging from a hasp. Inside was an empty steamer trunk. “See there?” Carmen said triumphantly. “It’s all gone-his vest, boots, cap, everything. I’m sure one of his buddies must have called to invite him on a hunting trip, and he didn’t have time to let me know.”
“Doesn’t he carry a cell phone?” Joanna asked.
“He left it home or else he forgot it,” Carmen said. “He does that sometimes. I found it just a little while ago, still on the kitchen counter, sitting in its charger.”
Joanna was sure the phone had been left behind deliberately, and she was equally convinced that the hunting trip Lewis Flores was on had nothing to do with whitetail deer. But she couldn’t bring herself to tell Carmen Flores what she feared to be the truth. Not just yet. She also knew she couldn’t afford to wait around the Floreses’ house to find out if she was right. Too many lives were at stake.
“I’ll tell you what,” Joanna said as she watched Carmen carefully replace the lid on Lewis’ empty steamer trunk. “Why don’t I leave you to handle things here. I have one or two other matters to clear up. Is there anyone who could come stay here with you tonight-your folks, maybe?”
Carmen shook her head. “Mother can’t get up and down the stairs anymore. That’s why she and Daddy moved out of the house to begin with. I might call my sister, though. Rose could probably come over. But really, there’s no need. I’m sure Lewis is out hunting. Just wait. He’ll turn up around midnight with a big buck strapped to the luggage rack. I’ll spend the whole weekend making tamales.”
“All the same,” Joanna insisted, “I think you’d better have someone here with you.”
“Okay,” Carmen agreed. “I’ll call Rose and see if she can stop by.”
Mulling over what to do next, Joanna made her way down the long stairway. As soon as she was back in the Blazer, she called Tica on the radio. “What’s the word?”
“I got those two addresses and dispatched deputies to both. They reported that no one answered the door at either place. There were no lights on and no sign of struggle, but the afternoon papers were still in the driveways.”
“Afternoon but not morning,” Joanna observed.
“Right.”
“That probably means both Brainard and Childers were home this morning, but they haven’t come back tonight. Are the deputies still there?”
“Yes.”
“Have them check with neighbors and see what time Childers and Brainard usually arrive home. Also have them ask if there have been any unusual goings-on around either address earlier today.”
“Where will you be?” Tica asked.
“In the car. I’m going to head on out to Sierra Vista myself. I have a bad feeling about this one, Tica. Flores went out dressed to go hunting, but I’m afraid he isn’t looking for white-tail deer. Where’s Dick Voland, by the way?”
“He called in a little while ago after he and the other deputies left Oak Vista. He said he was going home and to call him only in case of a crisis.”
“Nothing happened out there today?” Joanna asked.
“Nothing at all,” Tica responded. “The monkey wrenchers didn’t show. Once Chief Deputy Voland told me he was taking the rest of the evening off, I put Frank Montoya on notice that he’s on call. He’s standing by his radio.”
“Can you patch me through to him?”
“Sure. Hang on.”