Paradise Lost

as all color drained from her trice. “She’s dead? How come? Why?”

“She must have run away from the foster home,” Joanna said. “Someone hit her with a car. When Grandma Brady said you were out riding Kiddo, I was so afraid . . . That’s where the Gs are now—out looking for you.”

“But, Mom, I was just out riding, why should you ...” Jenny drew back. “Wait a minute. You think the guy who killed Dora might come looking for me next, don’t you!”

Joanna and Jenny were mother and daughter. It wasn’t surprising that the thoughts of one should be so readily shared by the other, although, in that moment, Joanna wished it weren’t true. Saying nothing, she merely nodded.

“Why?” Jenny asked.

“Because of what happened in Apache Pass,” Butch said, stepping into the fray. “Your mother and I are afraid that whoever killed Connie Haskell may have targeted you and Dora.”

“But why?” Jenny repeated. “Dora and me didn’t see who did it or anything. All we did was find the body.”

For once Joanna resisted the temptation to correct her daugh­ter’s grammar. “You know that,” she said quietly. “And so do we. The problem is, the killer may believe you saw something even though you didn’t.”

Just then Joanna’s Eagle came wheeling into the yard, with Jim Bob Brady at the wheel. The car had barely come to a stop before Eva Lou was out of it. With her apron billowing around her, Eva Lou raced toward Jenny.

“There you are, Jenny,” she said. “I’m so glad to see you! When we couldn’t find you, I was afraid—”

“She’s fine, Eva Lou,” Joanna interjected. “Jenny’s just fine.”

That’s what she said, but with Dora Matthews dead, Joanna wasn’t sure she believed her own reassuring words. Neither did anybody else.

CHAPTER TEN

It was a grim family gathering that convened around the dining room table at High Lonesome Ranch. Joanna began by briefly summarizing what Frank Montoya had told her about Dora Matthews’s death.

“Supposing what happened to Dora and what went on in the Apache Pass case are connected,” Jim Bob began. “How would the killer go about learning the first thing about Jenny and Dora?”

In response, Butch retrieved a copy of Sunday morning’s Ari­zona Reporter from the car and handed it to Jim Bob Brady. Once he finished reading, Jim Bob sighed and shook his head. “‘That still doesn’t say for sure that the cases are connected.”

“That’s right,” Joanna agreed. “But we can’t afford to take any chances. As of now, Jenny, consider yourself grounded. You don’t go anywhere at all unless one of us is with you. No more riding off on Kiddo by yourself. Understand?”

A subdued Jenny nodded and voiced no objection.

“What about us?” Eva Lou asked. “1 )o you want us to stay on?”

Joanna glanced at Butch, who gave his head an almost imper­ceptible shake. “No,” Joanna said. “That’s not necessary. We’ve disrupted your lives enough as it is. You go on home. We’ll be fine.”

“All right,” Jim Bob said, “just so long as you all know you can count on us if you need to.”

“Has anybody found Dora’s mother?” Jenny asked.

Joanna shook her head. “Not yet.”

“Are you going to?”

“I’m sure we will.”

Jenny stood up and pushed her chair away from the table. “Then maybe you should go back to work,” she said, and left the room. At a loss, and not knowing what else to do, Joanna got up and followed her daughter into her bedroom, where she found Jenny lying facedown on the bed.

“Jen?” Joanna said. “Are