Devil's Claw

“What did Lucy say to that?”

 

 

“She said it was all a lie, that her father never hit anybody. After that, Lucy stormed off to her room and didn’t come out for dinner. This morning, when I got up, she was gone, along with her backpack, a bedroll, and some of her clothes.”

 

“Was anything else missing?”

 

“Some food from the kitchen, her bike . . .”

 

“And?”

 

Catherine bit her lip and didn’t answer.

 

“What else?”

 

“A gun,” Catherine answered reluctantly. “A twenty-two. It belonged to my husband. I keep it for protection—for snakes, that kind of thing.”

 

“Does Lucy know how to use it?”

 

“Yes. I taught her myself.”

 

“Did you tell Frank earlier this afternoon that the gun was missing?”

 

“No. I was afraid if I told him she was armed that it would keep people from looking for her.”

 

It wouldn’t keep them from looking, Joanna thought. But they’d be a hell of a lot more careful while they were doing it.

 

“What about Big Red?” Joanna continued. “Have you seen any sign of him today?”

 

“No.”

 

“So it’s possible he’s with her?”

 

“Probable more than possible, I’d say,” Catherine answered. “The two of them spend most weekends together. They ride over to the Stronghold.”

 

“Ride?” Joanna asked.

 

“Oh, yes. Big Red rides on her shoulder or her handlebars. He’s done that since he was just a baby. When they get to the park, Lucy climbs up and down the cliffs and Big Red usually sticks around somewhere nearby. Out of sight, maybe, but not far away.

 

“I tried to warn Lucy about that, by the way. There are so many other people hiking and camping up there that I told her it could be dangerous for him. I tried to explain that turning wild animals into pets is a bad idea because once they grow accustomed to humans, they may not be afraid when they ought to be. But of course, by the time I told Lucy that, it was already too late. And maybe it’s not as bad as all that. As far as I can tell, she’s the only person Big Red’ll have anything to do with. I can tell you, as soon as that bird catches sight of me, he flies off in a hurry.”

 

“Does Lucy drive?”

 

“No. She’s still too young to get a learner’s permit.”

 

“So you don’t think Big Red would get into a vehicle with her?”

 

“In a car? No. But on the bike, no problem.”

 

“Which means, if the bird is with Lucy, then wherever they are, they most likely traveled there on foot or by bicycle.”

 

Catherine Yates nodded, and Joanna turned to Frank. “What about Search and Rescue?” she asked.

 

“They’re aware of the situation,” Frank replied. “By morning the twenty-four-hour waiting period will be up. I’ve made arrangements with Mike Wilson to have a Search and Rescue crew here by first light in the morning if Lucy hasn’t been found by then.”

 

Joanna nodded. Departmental policy called for the passage of twenty-four hours before taking a missing-persons report or calling in Search and Rescue. There were exceptions to that rule, especially in the case of lost small children or wandering elderly Alzheimer patients. Lucy Ridder’s case fell in a gray area, unless she turned out to be a homicide suspect. In that case, all bets were off.

 

“Do you happen to have recent photos of your daughter and granddaughter?” Joanna asked.

 

“The one I have of Sandy is several years old, but I have last-year’s school picture of Lucy. Would that help?”

 

“Very much,” Joanna said.

 

“Well then,” Catherine Yates told her, “come on in. You might as well wait inside. It’s cold out here.”

 

Joanna and Frank trailed after Catherine as she led the way onto the porch.

 

“When are you going to get around to telling her?” Frank asked, under his breath.

 

“After we have the fax with the mug shot in hand,” Joanna whispered back. “I’d like to have a little more confirmation on that stolen Lexus before I blow this poor woman out of the water.”

 

Frank nodded. “Want me to go back to the car and wait for it? That way I can bring it inside as soon as it comes through.”

 

“Right,” Joanna said, then she followed Catherine Yates into the living room of her tiny square-shaped house.

 

Jance, J. A.'s books