“So you don’t mind if my officers enter your vehicle? We don’t have a search warrant.”
“You don’t need a search warrant,” Irma said. “I’m giving you permission to enter. If you need me to sign something, give it to me and I’ll sign. And if you’ll just let me take it on up to Tucson, I’ll tell you whatever you need to know. But I have to sell this thing, and I have to sell it today.”
“Because it contains evidence?” Joanna asked.
“No. Because I need the money. I’m going to need a lawyer.”
Joanna closed the car door and walked back to where her deputies stood waiting. “She says the keys are in the ignition. You have permission to get the keys and change the flat tire, but whatever you do, don’t touch anything else. You got that?”
Raymond and Lindsey nodded. Together they set about finding the keys, locating the jack and spare, and changing the tire.
“Frank, do you happen to have that miniature tape recorder of yours in your pocket?”
“Sure do, why?”
“Bring it,” Joanna said. “I want you to Mirandize Mrs. Sorenson. And I want that recorded as well.”
“You don’t think she’s going to confess, do you?”
“Yes, I do.” Feeling half-guilty about what she was about to do, Joanna led the way back to the car. “Mrs. Sorenson, you told me a minute ago that it we let you keep your appointment with the RV dealer in Tucson, that you would tell us everything we want to know. Is that true?”
Irma Sorenson nodded.
“We’ll have to record your answers.”
“That’s all right. It doesn’t matter.”
“This is my chief deputy, Frank Montoya. I’d like him to switch on his recorder and read you your rights.”
“Sure,” Irma said. “Go ahead.”
Frank and Joanna sat in the front seat of the Bronco. Irma remained in the back.
“So what happened?” Joanna asked, once the legal formalities had been handled.
“I killed him,” Irma said simply and without blinking. “I shot my son in the middle of the forehead.”
“Why?”
“Because he was going to kill me,” Irma replied. “I know he was. I knew too much about what he had done. He just didn’t know I had the gun.”
“What gun?” Joanna asked sharply. “Where did you get it?”
“From the car,” Irma said. “From that blue Lincoln Rob had me drive to the airport for him. I knew something dead had been in that car. I could smell it, and given Robby’s past . . .” Irma paused then and gulped to suppress a sob. “Given that, I knew what it had to be. I knew it had started all over again, with hint doing what he used to do. The only thing I could think of was to let someone know about the car.”
“But what about the gun?” Joanna prodded.
“That’s what I’m telling you. I knew I had to have a reason tier someone to look at it—at the car, I mean. I couldn’t just call up and say, ‘Oh, by the way, I need someone to go check out a car that’s sitting in the lot at Tucson International because I think maybe someone’s been killed in it.’ No, if an old lady calls in and says that, they’ll probably think she’s a complete wacko and pay no attention. But I thought if I said, `Hey, there’s a car at the airport with blood on it. Somebody needs to go check it out,’ maybe they would. But for that I needed some real blood, so I cut my hand. And it was when I was looking around on the floor of the car for something to use to cut my hand with that I found the gun. It must have belonged to the person Robby killed, the one whose car it was. Anyway, I found the gun on the floor along with an old Bible that was full of hundred-dollar bills. I put them both in my purse. I know it was wrong to take the money. It didn’t belong to me, and I should have left it where it was. But
