“Irma Mahilich,” she said to the person who answered.
“I’ll ring her room for you.”
“No,” Joanna said. “Don’t do that. Let me speak to the receptionist. The one at the front desk.” ,
A moment later another voice came on the line. “May I help you?”
“This is Sheriff Brady,” Joanna said quickly. “I’m trying to reach Irma Mahilich.
Is there a chance she’s sitting out in the lobby working on a jigsaw puzzle?”
“Yes,” the receptionist said. “She’s right there. If this is important, I could have her come take the call here at the desk.”
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Joanna let her breath out. “Yes, it is important,” she said. “I’d really appreciate it.”
After an interminable wait, Irma’s voice rang over the phone. “I’m here,” she said irritably. “Who is this? What do you want?”
“It’s Sheriff Brady,” Joanna said.
“I can’t hear a thing. Wait while I fix my hearing aid. Now, who are you again?”
“I’m Joanna Brady. You know, D. . Lathrop’s little girl.”
“Oh, yes. I remember you. You came to my house selling Girl Scout cookies that one year. I think I even bought some from you. Thin Mints, I believe. Those were always my favorites. What can I do for you?”
“I was wondering about someone who used to work with you,” Joanna said slowly. “Someone who worked with you in the General Office.” Joanna picked up the drawing and studied it. “Her name was Anna Adams, and she worked upstairs. Her desk was just to the right of the stairs-between them and your office.”
“Oh, yes, Anna,” Irma said. “I remember her. Her husband ran off with another woman and left her to bring up her son on her own. Dennis, I believe his name was. Fortunately, she had her parents to fall back on, so she had a place to live and someone to help her look after the baby when she had to go to work. Once PD shut down, I don’t have any idea what became of her. She probably transferred up to Silver City or over to Playas. Unlike the rest of us, Anna was way too young to retire.”
‘And when Mr. Frayn was passing out those guns,” Joanna asked softly, “do you happen to remember whether or not Anna Adams took one?”
“Took one!” Irma practically whooped. “Are you kidding?
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When they handed out guns, that girl was first in line. She said she wanted one of her own. She said if that worthless husband of hers ever came nosing around again, she was going to plug him full of holes.”
Irma paused. “Now wait a minute,” she said. “Who did you say you were again?”
“Sheriff Brady,” Joanna said. “Thank you so much for your help.”
She put down the phone and sat there thinking about how a gun that had once been used by company-hired vigilantes to march union protesters to the Warren Ballpark had now, more than eighty years later, come home to roost in a house directly across the street from that very same ballpark.
The phone rang. When Joanna answered, Deputy Debbie Howell was on the line and fighting mad. “Some son of a bitch messed with my vehicle, Sheriff Brady,” Debbie Howell stormed.
“Mossman came out of his room, got in his car, and drove away. I had gone into the restaurant long enough to use the facilities. When I came out, he was getting into his car and leaving, so I hustled after him. He drove out to the highway and turned left like he was headed back into town. My Blazer started fine, but two miles down the road, just short of the junction with Highway 92, it conked out on me. It acts like it’s out of gas, but I just filled it. I think maybe somebody put sugar in the gas tank.”
“What kind of vehicle is he driving?” Joanna asked.
“A Hertz rental,” Debbie replied. “A late-model white Ford Taurus. I passed the vehicle description and license info along to Dispatch so people can be on the lookout for it. I’m sorry I dropped the ball on this one, Sheriff Brady. I really thought I had it under control.”
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“How long ago did you lose sight of him?”
“Only about ten minutes.”
“He can’t have gotten too far then,” Joanna said. “I’m sure we’ll find him. What about you?”
“Motor Pool is sending a tow truck to bring me back to the department.”
“See you here,” Joanna said.
As she put down the phone, Frank Montoya sauntered into her office. Grinning, he held both thumbs up in the air. “I think you scored a bull’s-eye, boss,” he said.
“How’s that?”
“Senor Sandoval knows more than anyone thought possible, and he’s naming names that the feds want to hear-people on both sides of the border. The FBI is taking him into custody, so he’ll be out of our bailiwick and into theirs. We’re also handing over the interviews you had us do.”
“Great,” Joanna said.
