“What’s happening, Ernie? Any luck tracking the witness-protection offer?”
“Not so far, but we’re working on the problem. It would help if everyone I asked didn’t think I was pulling some kind of April Fool’s stunt.”
“Keep after it,” Joanna told him.
About eleven-thirty, Frank Montoya called her on her private line.
“We stopped for lunch on the way, but we’re driving into the parking lot right now,” he said. “How about if we use your private entrance so we don’t have to drag Lucy and Big Red in through the front lobby?”
“Are you telling me you brought the bird along?” Joanna asked.
“He’s wearing his hood,” Frank said. “Lucy refused to come without him.”
“Okay, then,” Joanna said. “And you’re right. You’ll be better off bringing them in the back way. You know my door code, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
A minute or so later, Frank ushered Lucy Ridder, Sister Celeste, and Big Red into Joanna’s office through her private entrance. The red-tailed hawk, with his head swathed in a black hood, perched quietly on Lucy’s shoulder.
“Mr. Montoya told us what happened to your house,” Lucy Ridder said, stopping beside Joanna’s desk. “I’m sorry it happened.”
“Thanks,” Joanna replied. “So am I, and I appreciate your concern. But let’s get back to you. Did Mr. Montoya tell you what we’re going to need from you today, that you’ll be interviewed by our two homicide detectives—Detectives Carpenter and Carbajal?”
“Yes.”
“And that later on, after the interview is over, we’ll have an artist help you create a composite sketch of the man who killed your mother?”
“Yes, he told me that, too.” Lucy turned and surveyed the room. “Will my grandmother be with me when I talk to the detectives?”
Joanna glanced at Frank. After what Jaime Carbajal had said the night before about Catherine Yates’ eagerness to see her granddaughter, Joanna had expected the woman would have met her at the door first thing that morning. In the flurry of taking phone calls and returning messages, the fact that Catherine had yet to show up had somehow escaped Joanna’s notice. As a juvenile, if Lucy Ridder demanded that her grandmother be present, the interview would have to be delayed until Catherine Yates’ arrival.
“I thought she’d be here by now, but she isn’t,” Joanna said carefully. “If you’re worried about her coming, I’ll be glad to bring her to the interview room as soon as she arrives.”
Lucy nodded, then she brightened. “Since Grandma’s not here, can Sister Celeste come in with me? I’d feel better if she did.”
Joanna knew her detectives wouldn’t appreciate an extra person being added into the mix. “Sure,” she said, after a moment’s consideration. “That’ll be fine.”
As soon as Frank took his charges and left for the conference room, Joanna picked up the phone, dialed Dispatch, and spoke to Larry Kendrick.
“Who’s on duty at Catherine Yates’ house over by Pearce?” she asked.
Several seconds passed while Joanna listened to the clatter of computer keys. “Deputy Ken Galloway,” Larry returned.
“Has he checked in lately?”
“Not for an hour or two. Why?”
“He’s supposed to be keeping an eye on Catherine Yates, and I expected her to show up here by now. See if you can raise him by radio and find out what’s going on.”
Once Joanna was off the phone, she glanced at her watch. It was noontime. By rights it was past time for her to head out to High Lonesome Ranch to see how things were going and to cheer on the work crew’s efforts. It wasn’t fair to let the responsibility for her problem fall entirely on other people’s shoulders. Still, she knew she could trust Butch to oversee things. She had faith that he would be able to sort out which of her shattered possessions should be kept and which should be thrown away. And, just like Eva Lou, it was easier on Joanna not to be there in person. She didn’t want to witness the sad process of watching her past being thrown, item by item, into a Dumpster.
The phone rang. “Yes.”
“This is odd,” Larry Kendrick said. “I’ve tried raising Deputy Galloway several times, but he doesn’t answer.”
“I don’t like the sound of that,” Joanna said.
“Me neither,” Kendrick returned. “Deputy Pakin is over near the airport in Douglas right now. I’ve dispatched him to go to Pearce and check things out.”
Before Joanna had a chance to think about what that all might mean, her intercom buzzed. “A Mr. Jerry Reed to see you,” Kristin Marsten announced.
Who the hell is Jerry Reed? Joanna wanted to ask. Why don’t you ever get enough information?
Shaking her head, she bit back her sudden attack of irritation. “Send him in,” Joanna said.