hazel rather than deep brown. If this anguished young woman really was the great-great granddaughter of a famed Apache chief, it certainly didn’t show in her features. But there could be little doubt that many of Lucy Ridder’s ancestral instincts were still alive and well. After all, she had somehow summoned both the patience and skill to befriend, tame, and train a wild red-tailed hawk.
“My job is studying patterns,” Joanna said quietly, as she handed the necklace back to Lucy, who gazed at it as though it were no longer the treasure she had always assumed it to be. “Not the devil’s-claw patterns woven into baskets,” Joanna continued. “As sheriff, it’s my job to study the patterns left behind when people die-when they’re murdered.”
“Like my father and my mother,” Lucy murmured.
Joanna nodded. “Let me ask you something, Lucy. When a basketmaker weaves patterns with devil’s claw, do they always mean the same thing?”
“Not always.”
“But they may be connected, right? One may be different from the next one-from the one before it-but they’re still related.”
“Yes.”
“I think something similar has happened here,” Joanna said. “I think what’s happened in the past few days with your mother may be related to what happened to your father years ago. And now someone else is dead as well.”
“My grandmother?” Lucy asked.
“No. The latest victim is Melanie Goodson.”
“My mother’s attorney?” Joanna nodded.
Lucy shuddered. “She’s dead because I called her,” Lucy wailed, shaking her head and rocking back and forth. “I didn’t mean to cause trouble for her, too. I didn’t mean for her to be killed. I just knew I needed help, and I didn’t know who to ask.”
“Please, Lucy,” Joanna said, trying to console the girl. “Don’t blame yourself. Melanie Goodson was your mother’s attorney when your father was killed. That makes her part of the pattern, too. Before I can make sense of what’s happening now, I need to learn everything I can about what happened back then. As far as I can see, you’re the only one left who can tell me what I need to know. If you will, that is,” she added.
For several long seconds Lucy Ridder made no reply. She sat gazing intently into the concealing branches where Big Red had disappeared. Finally she turned away from the tree and focused her penetrating hazel-eyed gaze back on Joanna.
“Why should I?” she asked hopelessly. “What good will it do? My father’s dead. Nothing I can tell you will bring him back.”
“Or your mother, either,” Joanna added. “Lucy, listen to me. My father died when I was just a year younger than you are now. My daughter, Jenny, was seven when her father was killed-the same age you were when you lost your father. Not knowing the answers about why those things happened to my father and to my husband could have haunted Jenny and me for the rest of our lives. Finding out and knowing the truth about what happened to my dad and my husband didn’t bring either one of them back, but it did make it possible to go on.
“You’re right. What we learn now won’t bring either one of your parents back. They’re gone. But they say the truth will set you free, and I believe that’s the case. Finding out what really happened to Sandra and Tom Ridder is the only way you-Lucy-will be able to put these awful things behind you. It’s the only thing that will allow you to move forward. Otherwise, you’ll be stuck, and you’re too young and have far too much potential to let that happen.”
“What potential?” Lucy asked despairingly. “I’m nobody. I’m nothing.”
“Evelyn Quick didn’t think so,” Joanna said. “That’s not what she told her son. And Sister Celeste doesn’t think so, either. That’s why they’re both worried about you. That’s why Jay Quick called and told us about your phone call. It’s why Sister Celeste came looking for you and brought you here to a place where she believes you’ll be safe.” She paused then, giving her words time to soak in. “Tell me what happened that night, Lucy. Please.”
“First the one car drove up. My mother got out, went over to the sign, and started moving the rocks. The person who was driving didn’t help her. Whoever it was stayed in the car and I never saw who it was. Then another car drove up. It belonged to a man from the campground-a nice man who stopped and asked my mother if she needed any help. She said no, she was fine. As soon as he left, she went back to moving rocks. That’s when the other man showed up.”
“Did you know who he was?” Joanna asked. “Had you ever seen him before?”
Lucy shook her head. “And I didn’t hear him drive up, either. He must have parked far enough down the road that I never heard or saw his car. Mother didn’t hear him either, until it was too late.”
Lucy’s lip trembled. “I could have warned her,” Lucy said. “I could have told her, but I didn’t. I kept quiet the whole time he was yelling at her and hurting her. He said she had something that belonged to him, something he wanted. But I knew that wasn’t true. He was looking for the disk, and I had that right there in my backpack. If I had come out from where I was hiding and given it to him, maybe he wouldn’t have shot her. Maybe she wouldn’t be dead.”
“You don’t know that,” Joanna said. “Maybe you’d both be dead. You mustn’t blame yourself.”
“But I do. Anyway, the next thing I knew, there was the gun. They struggled over it; wrestled over it. Then the gun went off while they were rolling on the ground. Pretty soon the man stood up, but my mother didn’t move after that. The man picked her up-she was limp, like a rag doll. He dragged her over to the car and shoved her into the backseat.”
“Did you see where the gun came from?” Joanna asked. “Was the man who attacked your mother carrying it?”
“No,” Lucy said. “I’m sure it was my mother’s gun-the same one she used to kill my father. She hid it there beneath the sign the night she shot him. I saw her do it. It was tiny, and she hid it in a plastic bowl along with that stupid computer disk. When I took the disk, I left the gun where it was. It killed my father, and I didn’t want to touch it.
“Anyway, after the man threw Mother into the car, he got in, too-in the front seat on the rider’s side. I heard a woman’s voice then-the driver, I guess-say, ”Now you’ve done it, you stupid bastard!“ And he said, ”Just shut up and drive. Get us the hell out of here.“ And they left.”
“Lucy,” Joanna said. “This all happened in the middle of the night. It was freezing cold that night. I was out in it, too. What were you doing out there?”
“Hiding. Big Red and I wrapped up in a bedroll. He helped me keep warm.”
“But why did you go there in the first place?”
“I had to know. Mother said she was coming home. At least, that’s what she told Grandma Yates and that’s what she told me, but I knew all along it was a lie. I don’t think she cared if she ever saw either one of us again. The only reason she came back at all was to get the diskette, just like I knew she would.”
“And how long were you there waiting?” Joanna asked.
“I had to wait until Grandma fell asleep before I could sneak out of the house. And it took time to walk and ride there in the dark, but I got there in plenty of time. I was already hidden in the bedroll when they drove up.”
“The man with your mother,” Joanna said.
“He wasn’t
“Tell me about this man,” Joanna urged. “Had you ever seen him before that night?”
“No,” Lucy said. “Not that I remember. But I’ve seen him since then.”
“You have?” Joanna demanded. “When?”
“The next day. He came to the rest area late Saturday afternoon. Big Red and I had been hiding in among the boulders just above the road. I was coming down to use the pay phone and get a candy bar. That’s when I saw him. He was parked by the phone and stayed there for a long time. As soon as I saw him, I knew he was looking for me-and for the diskette. And I knew he’d kill me if he found me, so I stayed out of sight.”
“Did you notice what kind of car he was driving?”
Lucy shook her head. “I don’t know much about cars. It was gray-silver, I mean. And foreign, but that’s all I saw.”
“Did you tell Sister Celeste about him?”
