answer. “Depending on how fast you drive, of course.” Deputies around the Cochise County Sheriff’s Department didn’t call the new county medical examiner “Doc Lead Foot” for nothing.
“Good,” George replied. “I’ll be there as close to that as I can manage. See you then ...”
“Wait,” Frank interrupted. “Before you come, there’s something else you should know. Jennifer Brady is the one who found the body—she and one of her friends, a girl named Dora Matthews.”
By virtue of having married Eleanor Lathrop, Dr. George Winfield was stepfather to Sheriff Joanna Brady and stepgrandfather to Joanna’s daughter, Jenny. It came to him then that the something that had been niggling at the back of his mind throughout his conversation with Frank Montoya was something Eleanor had mentioned in passing: Jenny and her Girl Scout troop would b camping on a ranch in the Apache Pass area over Memorial Day Weekend.
“How did they manage that?” he asked.
“According to Jenny, after lights out, she and Dora took off on an unauthorized hike. They were going off by themselves to have a cigarette—”
“Jenny was smoking cigarettes?” a disbelieving George Winfeld demanded. “She’s twelve years old, for cripes’ sake! How the hell did she get hold of cigarettes?”
“Beats me,” Frank answered. “I’m just passing along what Faye Lambert, the troop leader, told me. Faye’s royally pissed at the two girls, and I don’t blame her. I would be, too. She wants to send them home.”
Concerned that Eleanor might have awakened and stolen out of the bedroom, George glanced over his shoulder before resuming his conversation. “What about Joanna?” George asked, lowering his voice. “Have you called her?”
“Not yet,” Frank admitted. “I’m about to, but first I wanted to have some game plan in place for getting those two girls back to town. It’s already after eleven, and Page is six hundred miles from here. It doesn’t make sense having Joanna drive hell-bent-for leather from one end of the state to the other in the middle of the night so they could come pick them up.”
“What about the other girl’s mother?” George Winfield asked. “Couldn’t she come get them?”
“Negative on that. I tried calling Dora Matthews’s house up in Tombstone Canyon. There’s no answer.”
“You’re not asking me to bring them home, are you?” George Winfield asked warily. “They can’t very well ride home in my minivan along with a bagged-up body.”
“You’re right,” Frank agreed. “It’s totally out of the question, but I am asking for suggestions.”
“Why can’t you do it?”
“Because Jenny’s the sheriff’s daughter,” Frank said. “It’ll look like she’s being given special treatment. Assuming Joanna decides to stand for election to a second term, you can imagine how that would play if it fell into the hands of her opponent.”
“I suppose you’re right about that,” George Winfield agreed. “What about calling Jim Bob and Eva Lou Brady?” he asked after a short pause. “As I understand it, they’re staying out at High Lonesome Ranch to look after things while Joanna and Butch are out of town. When it comes to Jenny, I’m sure they’ll do whatever needs doing.”
“Good idea,” Frank Montoya replied, sounding relieved. “So who’s going to call them, you or I?”
“I’ll make you a deal,” George said. “Since you’re the one who’s going to have to deal with Joanna, I’ll be happy to call Jim Bob and Eva Lou.”
“Thanks,” Frank said. “That’ll be a big help.”
“Are you going to tell her about the cigarettes?” George asked.
“Not it I don’t have to,” Frank said. “I’d as soon leave that chore to someone else—like Faye Lambert, for instance. The murder investigation is my responsibility. The cigarettes aren’t.”
“Good luck,” George said with a laugh.
Once Frank was off the line, George located the speed-dial number
“Good,” George replied. “I’ll be there as close to that as I can manage. See you then ...”
“Wait,” Frank interrupted. “Before you come, there’s something else you should know. Jennifer Brady is the one who found the body—she and one of her friends, a girl named Dora Matthews.”
By virtue of having married Eleanor Lathrop, Dr. George Winfield was stepfather to Sheriff Joanna Brady and stepgrandfather to Joanna’s daughter, Jenny. It came to him then that the something that had been niggling at the back of his mind throughout his conversation with Frank Montoya was something Eleanor had mentioned in passing: Jenny and her Girl Scout troop would b camping on a ranch in the Apache Pass area over Memorial Day Weekend.
“How did they manage that?” he asked.
“According to Jenny, after lights out, she and Dora took off on an unauthorized hike. They were going off by themselves to have a cigarette—”
“Jenny was smoking cigarettes?” a disbelieving George Winfeld demanded. “She’s twelve years old, for cripes’ sake! How the hell did she get hold of cigarettes?”
“Beats me,” Frank answered. “I’m just passing along what Faye Lambert, the troop leader, told me. Faye’s royally pissed at the two girls, and I don’t blame her. I would be, too. She wants to send them home.”
Concerned that Eleanor might have awakened and stolen out of the bedroom, George glanced over his shoulder before resuming his conversation. “What about Joanna?” George asked, lowering his voice. “Have you called her?”
“Not yet,” Frank admitted. “I’m about to, but first I wanted to have some game plan in place for getting those two girls back to town. It’s already after eleven, and Page is six hundred miles from here. It doesn’t make sense having Joanna drive hell-bent-for leather from one end of the state to the other in the middle of the night so they could come pick them up.”
“What about the other girl’s mother?” George Winfield asked. “Couldn’t she come get them?”
“Negative on that. I tried calling Dora Matthews’s house up in Tombstone Canyon. There’s no answer.”
“You’re not asking me to bring them home, are you?” George Winfield asked warily. “They can’t very well ride home in my minivan along with a bagged-up body.”
“You’re right,” Frank agreed. “It’s totally out of the question, but I am asking for suggestions.”
“Why can’t you do it?”
“Because Jenny’s the sheriff’s daughter,” Frank said. “It’ll look like she’s being given special treatment. Assuming Joanna decides to stand for election to a second term, you can imagine how that would play if it fell into the hands of her opponent.”
“I suppose you’re right about that,” George Winfield agreed. “What about calling Jim Bob and Eva Lou Brady?” he asked after a short pause. “As I understand it, they’re staying out at High Lonesome Ranch to look after things while Joanna and Butch are out of town. When it comes to Jenny, I’m sure they’ll do whatever needs doing.”
“Good idea,” Frank Montoya replied, sounding relieved. “So who’s going to call them, you or I?”
“I’ll make you a deal,” George said. “Since you’re the one who’s going to have to deal with Joanna, I’ll be happy to call Jim Bob and Eva Lou.”
“Thanks,” Frank said. “That’ll be a big help.”
“Are you going to tell her about the cigarettes?” George asked.
“Not it I don’t have to,” Frank said. “I’d as soon leave that chore to someone else—like Faye Lambert, for instance. The murder investigation is my responsibility. The cigarettes aren’t.”
“Good luck,” George said with a laugh.
Once Frank was off the line, George located the speed-dial number
Similar Books
