J. Jance - Minor in possession

"Hello?"

"Dad? Is that you? Are you all right?"

It was Scott. His voice sounded tight and worried. "Of course I'm all right, Scotty. Where are you?"

"Home," he said. "In California. We all drove home to Cucamonga last night. I don't know what you said to Mom. She was furious. I've never seen her that mad. I don't think Dave had ever seen her like that, either."

"She thought I was out drinking."

He hesitated. "Were you?"

"No. It was all a big misunderstanding. Your mother saw me in a bar and jumped to the wrong conclusion."

"That's what Dave tried to tell her," Scott said ruefully, "all the way home, but she wouldn't listen. Anyway, I just called to wish you a happy birthday."

"How did you know I was here?"

"I didn't. I called Mr. Ames to see if he could tell me where you'd gone, and he said you were right there in his house, that you were still asleep." He paused. "Is it true that you found a rattlesnake in your cabin and that's why you left?"

"Yes, it is."

"You didn't drop out of the program because of us, did you? Decide not to finish because of anything else that happened, I mean, like with Kelly or anything?"

"Somebody tried to kill me, Scott, and the people at Ironwood Ranch weren't the least bit interested in finding out who that person was. Calvin Crenshaw threw me out rather than call the sheriff and report it."

"Oh," Scott said. He sounded relieved.

"And I'm planning to go back," I added with considerably more conviction that I felt. "As soon as all this business gets straightened out, I'm going to make them take me back into the fold. You just wait and see."

"Good. I'll tell Kelly. She was afraid you wouldn't go back. Oh, and one other thing."

"What's that?"

"Yesterday, when we were in that private conference with Burton Joe, he told us all about that other girl, Michelle, about her being pregnant and everything. It seemed like he really was on your side. He told Kelly she was being unreasonable. Anyway, Kelly wants you to know that she's not mad at you anymore."

"Good. Tell her I'm not mad at her, either."

There was something else I wanted to say, a question I wanted to ask, but I hesitated. In the past few days, Scotty had more than demonstrated his loyalty. I didn't want to push him away again, but I needed information. Despite the strictures against tattling, he was the only person I could turn to.

"Did Kelly say anything about what went on?"

"What do you mean, Dad?"

"Between her and Joey."

"Like did they go to bed together or something?"

His answer was far more blunt than my question. "No, that's not what I meant," I backpedaled. "I was wondering if he might have said something to her that would be helpful in the investigation. Is Kelly there? Can you put her on the phone?"

"Sorry, she's not here. I'm back at school."

"When you talk to her, tell her to give me a call, would you?"

"Sure thing, but I don't know when I'll talk to her again. You could call her at the house."

I thought about the way Karen had looked at me in the Silver Spur Saloon. I didn't want to have to fight my way through a verbal war zone without having a guarantee of actually speaking to Kelly on the phone.

"No, I don't think so," I told Scott. "Give her this number. I'll wait for her to call me."

"Kelly's not bad for a girl," Scott said as a brotherly afterthought. "She just has terrible taste in men."

They were words to chill the cockles of a father's heart. "I noticed," I said bleakly.

"Come on, Dad," Scott said. "It's your birthday. Cheer up. She'll probably grow out of it."

As I hung up the phone, I was feeling better. After all, Scott had given me a very real gift for my forty-fourth birthday-himself. I felt closer to him, in fact, closer to both my kids, than I had in years.

I was still holding the phone in my hand when Ralph Ames returned to my room carrying a tray laden with a coffeepot, cups and saucers, and two glasses of freshly squeezed orange juice.

"What exactly did you do to Louise Crenshaw?" he asked pointedly, pouring me a cup of coffee in a handsome cup and saucer with geometric borders designed to look like some brand of Indian pottery.

"I never did anything to her.

Ralph Ames shook his head. "You're on the lady's list, Beau, and I'm not talking Christmas cards here."

"What do you mean?"

"I called Ironwood Ranch this morning to see what we'd have to do to get you readmitted. You'll have to go back, you know. If you don't complete the program, the insurance won't pay, which isn't all that big a deal, but it could cause trouble with the Seattle P.D. since you're down here on sick leave. When I talked to her, though, Louise Crenshaw said not only ‘No' but ‘Hell no.' She doesn't want you back up there, period. As far as she's concerned, it's all your fault."

"What's all my fault?"

"Everything. The whole mess."

"How can that be? I didn't do anything. I was supposed to be a second victim, remember? Somebody planted a rattlesnake in my room."

"Mediawise, all hell is breaking loose, and as far as the Crenshaws are concerned, you're a convenient scapegoat. If only you'd turned in your handgun…If only you'd taken care to secure your car keys…If only you'd reported Joey Rothman's curfew violations…"

"Don't tell me she's blaming all of it on me?"

"And that's barely scratching the surface," Ames replied dryly. "I'm telling you, the lady's mightily provoked. You have to understand, I'm sure the Crenshaws are looking at all this adverse publicity in the long term-how it's going to affect their viability in the treatment center community."

"What adverse publicity?"

"According to Louise, the Joey Rothman story is headline news all over the state because of the prominence of his family. Both sides," Ames added.

"Terrific," I said.

Ames nodded. "Not only that, now someone has leaked the snake story to the press as well. They're saying it's one successful homicide and one not so successful."

"What's wrong with that?" I demanded. "It's the truth, isn't it? That's better than newspapers usually do."

"Louise Crenshaw is categorically denying the snake story, saying the snake was obviously an unfortunate refugee from the flood and that he inadvertently strayed into an occupied cabin."

Ralph Ames allowed himself another slight smile. "Actually, in terms of adverse publicity, I don't think it matters that much if the snake was a stray or if it was deliberately planted. Either way, Ironwood Ranch doesn't sound like the super-safe, squeaky-clean kind of place you'd want to send your addicted husband or wife or child, whatever the case may be."

"Who leaked the story?" I asked.

"Nobody knows."

"They didn't mention me by name, I hope."

"Or the snake either, thank God," Ralph added. "If they'd done the story with names included, the wire services would be jumping on it, and Captain Powell would be reading it in Maxwell Cole's column in the Seattle Post-Intelligencer tomorrow morning at breakfast."

"And you expect me to count my blessings?"

"Something like that. It could be worse."

We sat there silently for a few moments, both of us sipping our coffee and lost in our own private thoughts. The more I considered the situation with Louise Crenshaw, the more puzzled and offended I became.

"Ralph," I said finally. "Louise Crenshaw is crazy. She's got to be. None of this is the least bit logical."

"Who says women have to be logical?"

"Don't make jokes, Ralph, I'm serious. She's given every indication of hating my guts since the first day I checked into that damn place. She as good as said right then and there that I'd never make it, and she's been riding me hard ever since."

"Sometimes there's no accounting for personal animosities," Ames suggested.