“Has Deputy Carson come in yet this morning?” Patty asked Sally Drummond, the owner of the San Rafael Cafe.
“Not so far,” Sally answered. “He usually shows up around eleven. Is something wrong?”
Patty didn’t want to push any panic buttons. That was one of the reasons she hadn’t dialed 911. Patty was concerned, but she also knew that Phil was a very private man. Having a cop show up at his place with lights flashing and sirens blaring wouldn’t be appreciated.
“No big deal,” Patty said. “Just have him stop by when he finishes his lunch.”
It was almost noon when Jimmy Carson presented himself at Patty’s window. She remembered Deputy Carson from back when he was a little kid, missing his two front teeth. The first time he came to the window to buy stamps, he parked his two-wheeler, minus the training wheels, just outside the post office’s front door. Once inside, he had to stand on his tiptoes to reach the window. Because of the missing teeth, the word “stamps” came out with a double lisp-“sthampths.”
Today he was a hulking brute of a man in a starched, perfectly ironed uniform. His hairline was definitely receding. He wore a sheriff’s department badge pinned to his barrel chest and a firearm on his hip. He still lived with his mother.
“Morning, Ms. Patton,” he said. “Sally told me you wanted to see me?”
Patty smiled, noting the difference. Sally Drummond at the cafe was never referred to as Ms. Drummond. The postmistress was always referred to as Ms. Patton.
“Phil Tewksbury didn’t come in today, and he never called, either. Would you mind running by his place, just to check on him?”
Deputy Carson glanced at his watch as if he might not have enough time to drive the several blocks between the post office and Phil’s house. “Sure,” he said. “I suppose I could manage that.”
“You know about his wife, right?” Patty asked.
“You mean the Christmas Tree Lady?”
“Yes,” Patty said. “That’s the one. Be sure you talk to Phil himself. I doubt Christine will even come to the door.”
34
10:30 A.M., Monday, April 12
Tucson, Arizona
When Ali arrived at the hospital that morning, she was relieved to learn that on the medical front, news for the Reyes family was much improved. For one thing, feeling was beginning to return to Jose’s lower extremities. He could move his toes. According to his doctor, it was possible that lowering his body temperature to prevent permanent spinal cord damage may have worked. As for his damaged intestines? The fact that he had made it through another day with no additional signs of infection was considered remarkable. On the other hand, the stoma situation was dicey. There was no way to tell if it would be temporary or permanent.
Teresa’s health situation was downright rosy, with doctors predicting that, barring further complications, she and the baby would be sent home the following day, “home” being the operant word. With Jose’s condition improving, that was where Teresa wanted to be-at home, where she had a nursery set up for the baby and where she could provide a little bit of normalcy for her two daughters.
“Wouldn’t you be better off staying at a hotel?” Ali asked.
Teresa shook her head. “Being in a hotel room with one child is bad enough. Being there with three kids, including a newborn? Not a a good idea, and not fair to the other guests.”
“But driving back and forth to the hospital …”
Teresa was adamant. “As long as we have the minivan, we’ll be fine.”
“Where’s the minivan?” Ali asked.
“In Patagonia, along with the infant seat. When Deputy Carson brought us to town, I had no idea how long we’d be here or that the baby would be so early.”
Before Ali could sort out the logistics of getting the car, a nurse stuck her head in the room. “Your husband’s awake now, if you and the baby want to go see him. I brought along a wheelchair in case you do.”
A few minutes later, with Teresa and Carmine settled comfortably in the chair, Ali pushed them down one long tiled corridor and up another. She parked the chair next to Jose’s bed and then retreated from the room, closing the door behind her to give them a few moments of privacy. She returned to the waiting room in time to see Maria Delgado sink wearily into a nearby chair. She had managed to make the trip from one wing to another under her own steam, but just barely. She was trembling with effort and out of breath.
“I don’t know what we would have done if you and Donnatelle hadn’t been here,” Maria said gratefully when she was able to speak again. “There’s no way I could keep up with the girls on my own. But what’s going to happen when Teresa goes back home and Jose gets out of the hospital? How will she take care of him and the baby?”
Ali already knew those were questions with no easy answers.
A few minutes later, a raven-haired woman in tight jeans and worn cowboy boots strode purposefully down the hallway and stopped directly in front of Maria Delgado. “I came by to see if I could help out with the granddaughters,” she announced. She paused and looked around. “Where are they?”
“They’re not here at the moment, Olga,” Maria said coldly. “Teresa had to have an emergency C-section yesterday. We asked a friend to look after them, just to have them out from under hand and foot.”
“A friend?” Olga repeated. “Why didn’t you call me? I told you yesterday that I’d be happy to help.”
As far as Ali could tell, Olga’s offer of help sounded more like a declaration of war. Donnatelle had told Ali about the previous day’s firefight between Teresa and her former mother-in-law. This was evidently the beginning of round two, this time with Teresa’s mother, who wasn’t backing down, either. Ali stepped between the two belligerent women, hoping to defuse the situation.
“My name is Ali Reynolds,” she said, offering her hand. “I’m a friend of Jose and Teresa’s. And you are?”
“I’m Olga Sanchez. I’m Lucy and Carinda’s grandmother. Their other grandmother,” she added, glaring at Maria.
“The girls are fine where they are,” Maria said carefully. “As I told you, they are being well looked after.”
Maria might have been soft-spoken, but her understated antipathy wasn’t lost on anyone, especially Olga Sanchez.
“I still don’t understand why you didn’t call me.”
“The girls are actually with a friend of mine, a third-year nursing student at the U of A,” Ali said. “She lives here in town, close by, and has a son about Lucy’s age. They’re better off there than here.”
“They’d be even better off at my place,” Olga said. “They’d be with a family member rather than a complete stranger.”
“You’re a stranger, too,” Maria pointed out.
“Yes, and I’m sorry for that,” Olga said. “I shouldn’t have quarreled with Teresa at the funeral-I was grief- stricken. I’m sorry about what happened yesterday, too-that’s why I’m here now, to apologize and to offer to do whatever I can to help.”
“I doubt Teresa is interested-” Maria Delgado began.
The door to Jose’s room opened. Teresa rolled herself and the baby through the doorway. “Interested in what?” she asked.
“Olga came by to apologize,” Maria said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “She says she wants to help.”
Ali expected that Teresa would follow her mother’s lead and come out swinging. She didn’t.
“That’s very kind of you, Olga,” Teresa said. “I appreciate the offer, but I think we’re all right for the time being. They won’t be back until late this afternoon.”
“All right,” Olga said. “I’ll be in and out of town all day today. If you decide you need any help …”
“I’ll call,” Teresa said. “I promise.”
Olga looked as though she were going to say something else. Evidently, thinking better of it, she turned and
