passenger side of the Blazer.
“No,” Butch said. “We have to stay here.”
“Go with Jenny,” Junior said as his face screwed up. “Go too. Go too. Go too.”
He was so heartbroken and forlorn that Joanna started to relent. “No, you don’t,” Butch said with a smile. “If Eleanor sends the message to Garcia first, you’ll be mad as hell, and my life won’t be worth living. You and Jenny go have your pizza. Junior and I will manage just fine. Come on, Junior. Jenny and Joanna have to leave now. Let’s you and I go into the house.”
“No. Won’t.”
“Come on. I have something to show you.”
Junior stood rooted to the ground, balefully shaking his head. “No! No! No!”
“Do you like videos?” Butch asked. Junior continued to shake his head.
“Movies, then?”
The head-shaking stopped. “Movies?” Junior asked.
“Yes. I have movies. Lots of them. Have you ever seen
Junior brightened a little. “Lions,” he said. “Grrrrr.”
“That’s right,” Butch said. “That’s how lions sound when they growl. Come on. Let me show you.”
Taking a now uncomplaining Junior by the hand, Butch led him into the house while Joanna backed out of the driveway. “Butch is really good with Junior, isn’t he,” Jenny observed.
“Yes, he is,” Joanna agreed.
“Did you already know that when you brought Junior here?”
“No,” Joanna said. “It turns out it was just a lucky guess.” That should have been her opening. A discussion of Butch’s strong points could have led naturally and easily to the topic she needed to bring forward, but at that moment, Joanna’s considerable courage failed her. It seemed as though it might be better to wait until they were safely ensconced in the Pizza Palace and downing slices of pepperoni-dotted pizza before she ventured into that emotional minefield.
And it almost worked. They ordered root beers and ate salad while they waited for the pizza to cook. Jenny’s chatter was all about school and her homework while, for a change, Joanna did nothing but listen. Their freshly baked pizza was out of the oven and being sliced by the Pizza Palace owner, Vince Coleman, when Joanna’s cell phone crowed its distinctive ring.
Jenny made a face. “Not again,” she grumbled.
“You go get the pizza,” Joanna told her. “This will only take a minute.”
“Joanna?” her caller said. “This is Carmen Flores.”
The undisguised anxiety in Carmen’s voice put Joanna on edge. “It’s me, Carmen. What’s wrong?”
“I just found out Lewis never went to work today. And he still isn’t home.”
Joanna felt a stab of guilt. She had already known that. Should she have told Carmen about her husband’s absence immediately, or had Joanna been right in letting the woman find out the truth in her own good time?
“He didn’t?” Joanna stammered.
“No. I just drove down to Melody Lane to check.”
“Do you have any idea where he might have gone?”
“No. Not really. But when I came home from his office, I checked the gun cabinet. His guns are both missing, Sheriff Brady. One’s a hunting rifle-a Remington thirty-ought-six. The other’s a shotgun, a twelve-gauge Browning pump action.”
Jenny, having secured the pizza, had slid one slice onto her plate and was gingerly chewing the first piping-hot bite.
Carmen Flores continued. “I knew he was upset about what happened at the board of supervisors meeting yesterday, but I didn’t think he was
“What kind of car is he driving?” Joanna asked.
“Our old station wagon-a Taurus, a silver-gray Taurus. He left me the Escort today. I drove that to school. Joanna,” Carmen added after a pause. Her voice sounded as if she was close to tears. “What if he’s done something awful?”
That was Joanna’s fear as well, but she couldn’t say so. “Don’t panic, Carmen,” she said reassuringly. “You stay right there at the house. Call me immediately if you hear from him. In the meantime, I’ll get someone to go to work on this right away.”
Jenny was already on her way to the counter. “Mr. Coleman,” she said. “My mom has a problem. We’ll need to have this boxed up to go.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
On the way back to Butch’s house and at Jenny’s insistence, Joanna ate a single piece of pizza. Butch came out to the carport to greet them as Jenny scrambled out of the Blazer and darted into the house, calling Junior’s name as she went.
“What’s going on?” Butch asked.
Joanna told him, “See there,” he said when she finished. “You don’t want a husband; you just want a baby- sitter.”
The phone call from Carmen Flores had erased all Joanna’s playfulness. “If it’s a problem, Butch, I can take her to Jim Bob and Eva Lou’s.”
“Come on, Joanna. I was teasing. You know Jenny’s welcome to stay here. How long do you think you’ll be?” “I don’t know.”
“Since tomorrow’s a school day, why don’t Junior and I give Jenny a ride out to the ranch a little later. That way, he can meet the animals, and Jenny can get to bed at a halfway decent hour.”
“It might be late,” Joanna hedged. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”
“Not at all. It’s fine. Junior and I don’t have school tomorrow. It won’t matter if we get in late.”
“All right then,” Joanna said. “I’ll see you out at High Lonesome later on.” She put the Blazer in gear and started to back away.
“Did you tell her?” Butch asked, pacing beside the Blazer down the driveway.
“I didn’t have time. The call came in and-”
“It’s okay. You’ll have another chance. In the meantime, 1’11 do my best to keep her out of your mother’s clutches.”
“Thanks,” Joanna said.
On the way uptown from Butch’s Saginaw neighborhood, Joanna used her cell phone in an attempt to call both Mark Childers and Karen Brainard. When there was no answer at either place, Joanna’s sense of unease heightened. Her next call was to Dispatch, where Tica Romero was on duty. Joanna gave the dispatcher both names and phone numbers. “I don’t have the addresses, but I’m sure you can get them. I want officers sent to each address to check things out.”
“Any idea of what they should be looking for?” Tica asked.
Joanna was afraid she did know-a possible kidnapping and/or homicide. Maybe even two. “I’m not sure,” she said. “Signs of struggle, maybe. Warn the investigating officers to be careful. Have them keep a lookout for a silver Taurus station wagon that belongs to Lewis Flores. Run a DMV check and broadcast the license. Flores is to be considered armed and dangerous.”
Tica seemed stunned. “Are we talking about the same Lewis Flores I know?” she asked. “The one from O.K. Street up in Old Bisbee?”
“That’s him,” Joanna said. “He’s been caught in the middle of this Oak Vista controversy. After the board of supervisors took him to task yesterday, I’m afraid he may have gone off the deep end. He may be out to get Childers or Brainard, or he may end up taking his frustrations out on himself.”
“Armed and dangerous,” Tica repeated. “And maybe suicidal to boot.”
“That just about covers it,” Joanna said.
