“Glad to help,” Melanie Goodson said.
“And you have a lovely office, but then, I’m sure you hear that all the time.”
“My partner and I like it.”
“Partner?” Joanna asked. “I didn’t know this was a joint practice. There’s only one name stenciled on the front door.”
“My partner’s not an attorney,” Melanie said with a ready smile. “Ed’s a contractor who’s into buying and rehabilitating old houses. He does the heavy stuff—the grunt labor. He gets all the permits, handles all the structural problems, and makes arrangements to bring the plumbing and electrical systems up to code. I oversee all the interior design work. It’s a hobby of mine. In another life or if I hadn’t been able to make it in law school, I might have become an interior designer instead. Once the places are rehabbed, we lease them out. This one happens to be the pick of the litter, which is why I’m here. As you can imagine, the lease rates are quite favorable.”
“Nice workmanship,” Joanna said admiringly as she made her way back to the outside office.
“Thanks,” Melanie Goodson said. “I’m glad you like it.”
Once back in her oven-hot Blazer, Joanna turned the air conditioner on high and rolled down the windows to let some of the heat blow out. While the hot air drained out and even though the clock was ticking, she wrote herself a note: “Have Jaime check with Melanie Goodson’s neighbors to see if we can find out whether or not she really was home and asleep when Sandra Ridder took off in the Lexus.”
Then, having done what she could do, Joanna headed out of town. Traffic wasn’t all that bad getting to and on the freeway, and once she passed the exit to I-19, most of the local commuters disappeared as well. Out in the desert with mostly eighteen-wheelers for company, she dialed into the office. Despite the fact that she had called Kristin’s number directly, the phone was answered by the switchboard operator.
“This is Sheriff Brady,” Joanna said. “Where’s Kristin?”
“She went home sick at noon,” the operator said. “Is there anyone else you’d like to speak with?”
“How about Chief Deputy Montoya?”
“One moment.”
“How’s it going, Frank?” she asked when he came on the line.
“We’re not having a real good day around here.”
“Why not?”
“For one thing, our canine unit seems to have disappeared off the face of the earth. I finally broke down and called out Search and Rescue after all. I dispatched a crew out to Texas Canyon. I was afraid if we waited any longer—until however long it takes for Deputy Gregovich to resurface—there wouldn’t be much chance of picking up Lucy Ridder’s trail at the rest area.”
“So with me out and with Kristin home sick . . .” Joanna began.
“Sick!” Frank snorted. “If she’s sick, she’s sure as hell not home. I went by her folks’ place and checked. Her car wasn’t there. And then, because I have a suspicious mind, I went by Terry’s apartment, too. Guess what? His patrol vehicle is parked out front, and so’s Kristin’s Geo, but Terry’s little four-by-four is nowhere to be seen. So wherever they are, they’re together.”
“What about Terry’s pager?” Joanna asked.
“Turned off.”
“Damn,” Joanna muttered. “I had a feeling this morning that I needed to talk to her about this—to both of them, really—but I was in a hurry and I let it go.”
“Do you want me to handle it?” Frank asked. “I’ll be happy to haul them both on the carpet.”
“No,” Joanna said. “It’s my job, and I’ll do it—first thing in the morning. Give me their home numbers, Frank. I’ll call them both right now and leave messages.”
Frank located the two numbers in the departmental directory and read them off while Joanna jotted them down. “Anything else going on?”
“Ernie Carpenter came in a little while ago. He said they’d just finished up with the Sandra Ridder autopsy. No big surprises there. She died of a gunshot wound from a twenty-two. The doc recovered the slug. It evidently hit soft tissue only, so it’s in fairly good shape. Jaime will bring it up to Tucson tomorrow and drop it off at the Department of Public Safety gun lab for analysis. And yes, I did warn the S and R guys to be careful and wear vests. I told them Lucy Ridder is to be considered armed and dangerous. I also told them that she’s accompanied by a red-tailed hawk. I don’t know whether or not Big Red should be considered dangerous, but I suppose he could be.”
“Anything else?”
“Are you planning to stop by the department on your way home?”
Joanna glanced on her watch. “Not really. I have a date at six-thirty. If I really push it, I’ll just have time to go home and change—”
“That’s why I asked. Butch stopped by a few minutes ago and dropped off some clothes for you to wear. I had him put them in your office.”