J. Jance - Outlaw Mountain

Dodging out of Butch’s arms, Joanna look leftover baked potato and meatloaf from the fridge and popped them into the microwave. Then she brought out the butter, sour cream, and chopped onions.

“Jenny wanted to talk to you,” Joanna said, as she stood watching the readout on the microwave count off the passing seconds. “I told her if you got here too late to see her tonight that the conversation would have to wait until morning.”

“Any idea what’s on her mind?” Butch asked.

Joanna shook her head. “I asked her, but she wouldn’t tell me. Said it’s a secret. Do you know what it is?”

Butch shrugged. “You’ve got me,” he said.

Joanna set a place for Butch in the breakfast nook. When she put the plate of steaming food in front of him, she slipped onto the bench beside him.

“How was it?” she asked.

“The auction?”

Joanna nodded.

“Okay. We made some money on the deal. Of course, if we’d had to pay wages for all the work we did, we wouldn’t have made a dime. The good thing is that several of the collector types got a chance to see the kind of work Jeff does. I think they were impressed. My guess is he’ll get some more business out of it. Advertising. The main thing we did, though, going and coming, was talk. Jeff’s really worried about Marianne.”

“That she’s going to quit the ministry?”

Butch turned to study Joanna. “She told you then?”

“This afternoon. She says her letter of resignation is written and ready to hand in at the next board meeting.”

“That’s what Jeff’s worried about. In their family, Marianne has always been the major breadwinner. Jeff has the garage, and he does excellent work, but Auto Rehab, Inc., is a long way from making a profit or from being able to support a family of three. Jeff doesn’t know what they’re going to do. Did you say anything to Marianne, try to talk her out of it?”

“1 tried to talk her into seeing a doctor,” Joanna said. “She’s depressed, and understandably so. I told her she needs to give herself a chance to feel better before she does anything rash.”

“Is she going to?” Butch asked. “See a doctor, I mean?”

“I don’t think so. I’ve known Marianne Maculyea since we were both in junior high. She’s always had a mind of her own.”

Just then, the phone rang. Joanna hurried across the room to answer it.

“Sheriff Brady?”

Joanna recognized the desk sergeant’s voice as soon as Lisa Howard spoke. “Yes, Lisa. It’s me. What’s happening?”

“You remember that missing person’s case Chief Deputy Montoya filed earlier this evening?”

“On Alice Rogers?”

“Yes,” Lisa answered.

“What about it? Have they found her?”

“They haven’t found her yet, but they did locate her car.”

“Where?”

“At the border crossing in Nogales. Four young Hispanic juveniles tried to drive it across the line. When Border Patrol ordered the vehicle to stop, they all bailed out and made a run for it. Three of them were picked up by Federales. They’re in jail in Nogales, Sonora. The fourth one wasn’t armed but he looked like he was. He was shot in the leg when officers opened fire. According to the Santa Cruz County dispatcher, he’s being airlifted to Tucson. University Medical Center or T.M.C., I’m not sure which. We’re hoping that he’ll be able to tell its where they left Alice Rogers.”

“How bad is the kid hurt?” Joanna asked.

“No way to tell at this point. I talked to one of the EMT’s who treated him at the scene. His best guess is that once they get him to Tucson he’ll go straight into surgery.”

Unaware that she had been holding her breath, Joanna let it out. The word “juvenile” could cover a lot of ground-from relatively harmless joyriders to cold-blooded gang-based killers. Depending on which variety Alice Rogers had encountered, she was either more or less likely to have been left alive. Unfortunately, the clock was ticking. With each passing hour the odds of her continued survival were vastly reduced.

“Has anyone let Frank Montoya know what’s going on?”

“I called Chief Deputy Montoya first thing,” Lisa Howard said. “Just before I called you. He said to tell you that he’s heading down to Nogales to see what detectives on the case have to say. After that, he’ll go to Tucson. He wants to be available when the suspect comes out of surgery and can speak with investigators.”

“Thanks for keeping me posted, Lisa,” Joanna said. “Tell Frank to let me know what develops.”

“Regardless of how late it is?”

“Regardless.”

Joanna hung up the phone and put it back down on the counter. Butch Dixon was studying her from across the room. “Bad news?” he asked.

She nodded. “A missing person,” she told him. Briefly Joanna filled Butch in on what had happened.

“Are you going to have to go in?” he asked.

“I don’t know yet, and I won’t for a while.”

Butch stood up and began to clear his place. “This wasn’t exactly how I hoped the evening would end,” he said quietly. “With Jenny already in bed and asleep, I had something more romantic in mind rather than a dinner followed by a missing person’s investigation.”

Joanna gave him a weak smile. “So did l,” she said quietly.

She watched him carry his plate to the sink. He rinsed it, then loaded the plate and his silverware into the dishwasher. She liked his purposeful, economical movements. Liked the way he made himself a contributing part of the household rather than a guest. He seemed to be quietly weaving his way into the fabric of her life, but without making unreasonable demands. Joanna found Butch easy to be with, even though he knew they would most likely spend whatever was left of the evening waiting for the telephone to ring.

“I don’t deserve you,” she said quietly.

He grinned. “Yes, you do.”

He came across the kitchen then and gathered her into a tight embrace. He held her for a long time, and she made no attempt to pull away. Finally, he was the one who broke it off.

“Come on,” he said. “Bring the phone and let’s go sit on the couch where it’s comfortable. And that’s where I’ll spend the night-on the couch. That way, if you do have to go in, someone will be here to look after Jenny when she wakes up.”

When Joanna awakened the next morning, that’s exactly where she found Butch-sound asleep on her living room couch. They had waited up for some time, expecting a phone call. When none came, they had finally ventured into the bedroom. Sometime after Joanna fell asleep, Butch must have crept out of bed. Joanna was grateful for his discretion when, moments after she reached the kitchen to make coffee, Jenny appeared at her side.

“What’s Butch doing on the couch?” she asked.

“Sleeping,” Joanna said.

“I know that. But why?”

“Because if I had been called into the office during the night, somebody would have been here to look after you.”

Pouring herself a bowl of cereal, Jenny scowled. “To baby-sit, you mean. I’m not a baby.”

“No, you’re not. But eleven is still too young to be left here alone at night.”

By the time Joanna finished showering and dressing and returned to the kitchen, Butch was seated in the breakfast nook drinking coffee and chatting amiably with Jenny, who was munching her way through a peanut-butter-slathered English muffin.

As soon as Joanna entered the kitchen, the conversation ground to a sudden, awkward halt. By the time she had poured her own cup of coffee, Jenny had taken her dishes to the counter and was busily stowing them in the dishwasher. Joanna took Jenny’s place in the breakfast nook. “I hope I’m not interrupting something,” she said.