'Who is he?' I asked, pressing my luck. By then, Detective Reyes-Gonzales was back in control. She ignored my final question as though it had never been asked.
'I understand you're no longer staying at Ironwood Ranch.' It was a statement not a question, and I didn't answer.
'Do you have any idea where you will be staying? For the time being, I would prefer your not leaving the state of Arizona.'
I had seen that request as a distinct possibility. 'I'll probably stay with my attorney, Ralph Ames. In Phoenix. His office is in Phoenix but he lives in Paradise Valley.' I gave her Ralph's telephone numbers and addresses.
'What about my car?' I added.
'Oh, that.' She shrugged. 'A minor detail. Have the rental agency call us. Better yet, have them call me personally. The car is still impounded, but you won't have to pay any charges from the time we took it into custody. At least that's my understanding of how it's supposed to work.'
The detective got up and escorted me to the door. We found Rhonda Attwood pacing up and down the hallway. Pacing and seething.
She stopped as soon as she saw us, her face still contorted with anger. The change was remarkable. This new woman barely resembled the one with whom I'd spent the past few hours.
'I take it you spoke with my former husband at some length?' Her words were clipped and staccato, while the question itself reeked with sarcasm.
'Why, yes, as a matter of fact, we did. We were able to reach him early on during the day, long before the deputies were able to locate you.'
'And while you were chatting with him, he didn't happen to mention when the services for Joey are scheduled, did he?'
Detective Reyes-Gonzales frowned. 'That depends on the autopsy, but I believe he said something about Monday. Somewhere in Paradise Valley, I believe, but I can't remember where or what time. When you talk to him-'
'I won't be speaking to JoJo Rothman,' Rhonda said icily. 'I haven't spoken to him since before the divorce, and I see no need to change that now.' With that, she turned and stalked away down the hallway. I started after her, but Detective Reyes-Gonazales stopped me.
'What's going on with her? Are you two involved in some way?'
'You mean romantically? No.'
'But you came here with her. She brought you along into my office like you were an advisor or a close personal friend.'
'I never met her before tonight. She offered me a ride out of Wickenburg, that's all. The road is closed going the other way, remember?'
'And that's all?'
'Of course that's all,' I answered, exasperation creeping into my voice.
Detective Delcia Reyes-Gonzales smiled, but there was no humor in it. 'Let me remind you, Detective Beaumont, that you are now in Arizona, not Washington. Yavapai County, not the City of Seattle.'
'In other words, butt out and mind my own business.'
'I couldn't have said it better myself.'
The course of the interview had taken so many sudden twists and turns that I had almost lost sight of my initial reason for wanting to talk to her. I had come to report an attempt on my own life, but that original intention kept getting buried under other issues. Resentment boiled to the surface.
'And let me remind you, Detective Reyes-Gonzales, that no matter what you were told by the sheriff or Crenshaw or anybody else, somebody, most likely Joey, tried to kill me with that snake yesterday afternoon. I'm not going to let up until I know for sure.'
The detective flashed me a winning smile. 'If I were you…' she began.
'You're not me,' I reminded her, and strode away.
Rhonda Attwood was waiting in the lobby with a night clerk hovering in attendance when I came out of the office area. She seemed to have gotten herself under control.
'There's a message for you,' she said.
I turned to the clerk. 'For me? For J. P. Beaumont?'
'Yes. Mr. Ames said to tell you that he's chartered a helicopter and that he expects to be in Prescott within the hour. He said for you to wait right here. We've sent a cab out to the airport to meet him.'
'Who's Ames?' Rhonda asked, showing some interest.
'Ralph Ames. My attorney. He's coming up from Phoenix.'
'By chartered helicopter?' she asked.
'He thought I was in some kind of trouble,' I answered lamely. 'So did I.'
'I'll wait with you until he gets here,' Rhonda said.
I thanked the clerk for the message then led Rhonda over to some chairs by a blind-covered window.
'Tell me about her,' Rhonda said.
'The detective? What's to tell?'
'Not her, the girlfriend. Joey's girlfriend…the pregnant one.'
'Her name's Michelle, Michelle Owens.'
'Where's she from?'
'Ironwood Ranch.'
'You mean she lives there?'
'No, she was a client, same as everybody else. They met there. Like the detective said, she's only fifteen, a mousey little girl. The last time I saw her she looked like she was scared to death.'
'I don't care what she looks like. Where does she live?'
'With her family, her father anyway. He's in the service, a lieutenant colonel in the army, I believe.'
'From here in Arizona?'
'I think so, but I can't remember where exactly. Fort something. It seems like the name starts with a W.'
Rhonda thought about that for a moment. 'Fort Huachuca, maybe?'
'That's it. I told you it starts with a W.'
'It starts with an H,' she corrected. 'It's Spanish.'
'You could have fooled me,' I said.
Suddenly, a light came on in my head. Detective Reyes-Gonzales had mentioned a suspect. She hadn't said so in so many words, but her manner had hinted that I wasn't it. I was off the hook and somebody else was on, and I wondered if that somebody was Lieutenant Colonel Guy Owens.
'I'm going to talk to her,' Rhonda said determinedly.
Absorbed in my own thoughts, I hadn't been listening. 'Talk to who?' I asked.
'Michelle, and her father, too.'
The mention of Guy Owens made me feel as though Rhonda had somehow been peering into my brain. Talking with Guy and Michelle Owens was the last thing Rhonda should do, especially if the lieutenant colonel really was Detective Reyes-Gonzales' prime suspect.
'Don't,' I said. 'Leave them alone. Don't go messing around with things you don't know about.'
'What I don't know about!' Rhonda repeated venomously. 'After all, he was my son.'
'What I mean is…'
Rhonda didn't wait for me to finish. She got up from the chair and bolted toward the door, where she ran headlong into Ralph Ames. He stopped abruptly, grabbed her elbow to keep her from falling, apologized, and then looked around the room frowning until he caught sight of me.
'There you are,' he said. 'How are things?'
'Fine.'
'I don't see any handcuffs. Does that mean you're free to go?'
'As near as I can tell.'
'Are you telling me this whole thing was a false alarm?'
'There's nothing false about it, Ralph. My roommate's still dead. This is his mother.' standing quietly beside
