All her life, Joanna had reacted to her mother’s interference with anger. When her mother pushed, she pushed back. Now, for the first time ever, she burst out laughing.
“What’s so funny?” Eleanor demanded.
“You’re hopeless, Mom. A minute ago you agreed to let me do things my way. Now, less than a minute later, you’re telling me to go see the doctor.”
Eleanor sighed. “I guess I just can’t help myself.”
“And, if it’ll make you feel any better, I am going to the doctor,” Joanna said.
“I have a prenatal appointment with Dr. Lee tomorrow morning at ten.”
“Good. I’m delighted to hear it. Well, I suppose I should let you go. You said you’re busy,” Eleanor replied.
“I am busy,” Joanna agreed. “But there’s one thing more.”
“What’s that?”
“I love you, Mom,” Joanna told her. “I love you very much.” For a moment, there was dead silence on the other end of the phone. “Mom? Are you still there? Did you hear what I said?”
“Yes,” Eleanor replied, her voice strangely muffled. “I did hear you. And I think it’s one of the nicest things you’ve ever said to me.”
325
Joanna’s desk was relatively clear when she left to go home at five-thirty. At seven, she and Butch were sitting at the kitchen counter with the three dogs flopped on the cool tile floor around them while she related the details of Eleanor’s phone call.
“So she’s not mad anymore?” Butch asked.
“Evidently and I’m not mad, either.”
“Then this is new ground for both of you,” Butch said. “If you weren’t off the sauce for the duration, I’d propose a toast.”
Joanna raised her milk glass and smiled at him. “Go ahead,” she said. “I’ll drink to that.”
She leaned over to kiss him, only to have Jenny appear in the doorway holding the cordless phone. “It’s for you, Mom,” she said. “Detective Carpenter.”
“What’s up?” Joanna asked.
“Denny Adams and I are on our way back to Bisbee right now. He’s in one car. I’m in another. Turns out his mother gave him an old Colt when he graduated from high school. He says he’s never fired it, but that he keeps it on the top shelf of his closet. He offered to check to make sure it’s still there, so he called home. Stella was out, so Denny asked Nathan to go look in the closet to see if he could find the gun. Naturally it isn’t there, and Nathan has no idea where his mother is. He says she went out today just after noon. She didn’t say where she was going and hasn’t been back since. I clued Denny in on what may be going on. He’s coming down to Bisbee to be with Nathan.”
Joanna took a deep breath. “Did you ask him about…” She looked toward Jenny, who was waiting to retrieve the phone as soon as her mother was finished. “…
about the rest of it?” Joanna finished lamely
“Yes,” Ernie said. “It’s true. All of it. Denny has known the truth all along, but Stella swore him to secrecy. Denny Adams
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came into Nathan’s life when the kid was just three years old. Denny’s the only father the boy has ever known, and he’d like to keep it that way. I told him that was doubtful, but that we’d try. That we’d do our best.” Ernie paused. “That’s the one thing I hate about this job.”
“What’s that?” Joanna asked.
“Making promises I may not be able to keep.”
“So what’s the game plan?”
“We’re going to the house to talk to Nathan and see if he can give us any idea of where his mother might be.”
“Jaime hasn’t shown up yet, has he?”
“No, ma’am, but we’ve heard from him. There was a security breach at LAX. They had to empty two terminals and re-screen all the passengers. He still doesn’t know when he’ll get here.”
“In that case,” Joanna said, “would you like me to meet you there-at Denny and Stella’s house?”
“You bet,” Ernie Carpenter returned. “I thought you’d never ask.”
327
By the time Joanna returned to the far end of Arizona Street, it was dark. Due to a Ponytail League softball game, the glowing ballpark lights cast that whole part of town in a strange half-twilight. Cars were parked everywhere, but all the drivers had observed the hand-stenciled No Parking signs that had been placed on both posts of the footbridge leading to Stella and Denny Adams’s front gate.
Other than the hazy glow of a TV set somewhere deep inside the house, there was no sign of life. The driveway was still empty, and Joanna saw no trace of Ernie Carpenter’s Econoline van. She opened the car windows, turned off the engine, and settled in to wait. Across the street, a cheer went up from the crowd, and over the top of the fence Joanna saw someone use a long stick to change one of the numbers on the green and white Scoreboard.
It seemed odd to be sitting there dealing with a possible triple 328
