“Speaking of that,” Joanna said, “you’ll be happy to know that Frank Montoya is tracking the South Dakota connection.”
“Good.”
“And I’m sitting here admiring my ring,” she continued. “I still can’t quite believe it, Butch. I said ‘yes.’ We are actually engaged.”
“I’ll believe it more when 1 can corral you into setting a date,” Butch replied. “But don’t get me wrong,” he added quickly. “I’m not pushing.”
Joanna laughed. “The hell you’re not. I’m going to work now. You do the same. I’ll let you know the second Frank hears something.”
Without even putting down the phone, Joanna dialed her in-laws. When Eva Lou Brady answered the phone, Joanna had to pause momentarily and gather her nerve before she spoke. “Good morning,” she said.
“Good morning yourself,” Eva Lou returned. “How are you today?”
“Engaged,” Joanna said with a gulp. She had already sampled Jim Bob’s reaction, but Eva Lou was Andy’s mother. Would she manage the same kind of grace and generosity in the face of what she might well regard as her daughter-in-law’s defection?
“Did you think I didn’t know? Jim Bob and I had already discussed it with Jenny, and then Eleanor was on the phone to us last night, probably before the door closed behind you. I’m pleased at the news, Joanna, pleased for all of you. I really am. It means that Jenny’s going to have a daddy after all. From the sound of things, I think she needs one. Maybe Butch will be able to teach her not to fight all the time. Eleanor is all bent out of shape because she doesn’t think fighting is ladylike, which, of course, it isn’t. I’m more worried that one of these times Jenny’s going to pick a fight with the wrong bully and end up getting hurt.”
Now that word was out, Joanna breathed a little easier. “Speaking of the little truant, how is she this morning?”
“Fine as frog’s hair. She and Jim Bob are out back raking leaves.”
“Has she told you about Junior?” Joanna asked.
“She certainly has. Bubbling over with it. She seems to like him a lot. And it’s so nice of Butch to lend a hand that way. Most men wouldn’t.”
“But it is keeping him from doing any of his own work,” Joanna said. “And I was wondering if…”
“If we’d take him for a while?” Eva Lou asked. “Of course. I know Jenny gets bored hanging around with just us old folks. And with all the kids in school…”
“I believe that’s the whole idea of a school suspension,” Joanna observed. “She’s supposed to be bored. And miserable.”
“Well, I still think having Junior for the day will be fine. I’ll call Butch a little later and make arrangements. Come to think of it, maybe the whole bunch of you could come to sup-per tonight. I might even ask George and Eleanor. We could have a little engagement celebration. It’ll give me a chance to see your ring.”
Joanna’s breath caught. She had been able to pass off the ring as new with her own mother, but not with Andy’s. “You’ve already seen it, Eva Lou,” Joanna said quietly. “It’s the same one Andy gave m e for our anniversary, just below he died. Since I already have a ring that I love, it just didn’t make sense to have to go out and buy another one.”
“What a perfectly lovely thing to do,” Eva Lou said at once. “I know Andy paid an armload for that ring. Of course I understood why you put it away, but it seemed like such a waste to me to have a beautiful piece of jewelry like that hid den away in a dresser drawer. This makes far better sense.”
“You don’t mind then?” Joanna asked. “You don’t think I’m being disloyal to Andy’s memory?”
“Disloyal? The only way you could be disloyal to Andy, Joanna, is to not go on with your own life. He loved you. All he ever wanted was for you and Jenny to be happy. If Butch Dixon makes you happy, he’s exactly what Andy would wan(for you too. And he’d be delighted that you didn’t have to go out and spend money on a ring when you already had one that was bought and paid for.”
“Thank you for saying that,” Joanna murmured. “‘Thank you so much.”
“Don’t mention it,” Eva Lou said. “I’m hanging up now. I need to call Butch and let him know about dinner. I’ll also find out when he wants Jim Bob and Jenny to come by and pick up Junior.”
“One more thing,” Joanna said hurriedly before lava Lou could hang up.
“What’s that?”
“Don’t tell my mother where the ring came from. She’ll never understand.”
“She’ll never know then, will she?” Eva Lou said. “At least not from me.”
Holding the receiver after ending that call, Joanna knew there was one more that she needed to make. It was after nine by then-time enough for Hank Lazier to have shown up at his office in the Pima County Sheriff’s Department.
“Joanna Brady here,” she said when he answered.
There was a noticeable chill in his voice when he replied. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Pleasure, my foot! Joanna thought. Knowing there was no love lost between them, she dispensed with the usual pleasantries. “I’m calling about the crime lab results,” she said briskly. “Any hits on the fingerprints from the insulin vial?”
“None,” he replied.
“You ran them through AFIS?”
“Sure did.”
That meant Farley Adams’ prints weren’t there, because they would have come up with a hit. That also held true for the three young men still sitting in the Nogales, Sonora, jail, as well as for Joaquin Morales, the boy who had aided searchers in finding Alice Rogers’ body.
Sitting on his end of the telephone line, Detective Lazier must have been reading Joanna’s thoughts. “The lack of fingerprints means nothing,” he said. “When we searched the Buick, we didn’t find any gloves, but they could have used them and then ditched them somewhere between Houghton Road and Nogales.”
“It could mean they didn’t do it,” Joanna pointed out. “It could mean you and Detective Hemming are barking up the wrong tree.”
“Right this minute, Detective Hemming is out tracking down some search warrants.” Lazier told her. “We’ve ID’d the three suspects now and we’ll be executing those warrants as soon as we have them. In the meantime, stop sticking your nose in where it isn’t wanted or needed.”
“You have a nice day, too,” Joanna returned pleasantly.
But it was too late. By then Hank Lazier had already slammed the phone down in her ear.
Joanna’s first and second cups of coffee disappeared along with the stack of mail. Next, Joanna went to work on the duty rosters. As she tried in vain to make sense of the complicated graph Dick Voland had devised to create shift schedules, Kristin buzzed Joanna’s intercom. “Someone to see you, Sheriff Brady,” she announced.
“Who is it?”
“Monica Childers,” Kristin said. “She’s Mark Childers’ wife.”
Widow, Joanna thought. She said, “Ernie Carpenter is in charge of that case. I’m sure he’s the one she needs to see.”
“I told her that already,” Kristin said. “She insists on seeing you.”
“All right,” Joanna agreed, shoving the graph aside. “Send her in.”
The door to Joanna’s office swung open and a tall woman strode into the room. At nearly six feet, Monica Childers was an imposing yet slim forty-five-year-old with fair skin and startlingly blue eyes. Her gray hair was cut short enough to resemble a crew cut. She was wearing jeans, a flannel work shirt with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows, and a pair of dusty work boots. She stopped in front of Joanna’s desk.
“How long is that detective of yours going to keep us shut down?” Monica demanded.