Paradise Lost

the whole weekend, maybe she decided to do something on her own—go on a trip up to Tucson or Phoenix, for example. Single mothers are allowed a little time to themselves on occasion.”

“That may well be,” Ernie agreed, “but something Dora told Frank last night has been weighing on my mind. Let me ask you this. You and Butch don’t go off and leave Jenny by herself, do you?”

“No. Of course not. Why?”

“From the way Dora talked, she expected someone to just drop her off at home whether or not we could locate her mother. It sounds like she’s been left alone a lot. She claimed it was no big deal, and maybe it isn’t. All the same, Frank says we should keep trying until we reach Sally. In the meantime, as long as Jim Bob and Eva Lou don’t mind looking after Dora, we’re planning on leaving her there. Have you spoken to either one of them about it?”

“Not yet, but I will,” Joanna assured him. “Now, is there anything else?”

“Not that I can think of.”

“Good enough, Ernie,” she answered. “I’d say you guys have things pretty well under control. Keep me posted.”

After ending the call and putting the phone down, she glanced in Butch’s direction. He was studying her from across the Crown Victoria’s broad front seat. “I guess you’re working today,” he said glumly.

“It won’t take long,” she assured him. “Ernie thinks he’s got a line on identifying the homicide victim from Apache Pass. He wants me to try locating her next of kin. With that phone number and address, it shouldn’t take any time at all.”

“What about going to Bisbee?” he asked.

With a sigh, Joanna picked her phone back up and punched in the memory-dial number for High Lonesome Ranch. Jenny answered after only one ring. “Hello, Mom,” she said.

“How are things this morning?” Joanna asked, forcing herself to sound cheerful.

“Okay.”

“I hear you talked to Grandma Lathrop,” Joanna said.

“I didn’t want to, but Grandma Brady made me,” Jenny replied “She said Grandma Lathrop needed to hear it from me instead of from someone else.”

“That seems fair,” Joanna said without mentioning that she was relieved that she herself had been spared being the bearer of the bad news. “What did she say?”

“You know. That I was a disappointment to her. That people judge me by the kind of company I keep. All that stuff. Why does Grandma Lathrop have to be that way, Mom?” Jenny asked. “Why does she have to make me feel like I can’t do anything right?”

Good question, Joanna thought. She makes me feel the same way. She resisted the temptation to ask how Jenny really was. Jenny sounded fine. If she had achieved some kind of emotional even keel, Joanna was reluctant to make any mention of the body the girls had discovered in Apache Pass. Instead, she contented herself with asking about Dora.

“She’s fine, too,” Jenny said. “Grandma has her helping with the dishes right now. Do you want to talk to her?”

“No,” Joanna replied. “If you don’t mind, put Grandma on the phone.”

As Eva Lou came on the line, Joanna could almost sec her dry­ing her hands on her ever-present apron. “How are things?” Joanna asked.

“We’re all doing just fine,” Eva Lou reported briskly. “I told that nice Frank Montoya that Dora is welcome to stay as long as she needs to. I’m sure her mother will turn up later on today. When she does, we’ll take Dora home where she belongs. In the meantime, I have Dora and Jenny doing some little chores around here—vacuuming, dusting, and so forth. As a penance, if you will. Nothing like using a little elbow grease to help you contemplate your sins.”

“I was thinking about dropping Butch off in Phoenix and then coming home ...”

“Don’t you do anything of the kind,” Eva Lou said. “Isn’t Butch supposed to be in a wedding or something tonight?”