Page 13 of The Girl from Devil’s Lake (Joanna Brady Mysteries #21)

Bisbee, Arizona

Back at the office, Joanna stopped by the bullpen to tell Deb Howell and Garth Raymond that their homicide victim most likely had a name, but still no date of birth. Then she called the ME to give her the same news and pass along the information she’d picked up from Arturo.

“Missing for a week,” Kendra mused. “That would jibe with my estimated time of death. That suggests that Xavier was murdered close to the time he was taken.”

“Any sign of sexual assault?” Joanna asked, dreading the answer.

“Due to the state of decomposition, I couldn’t find any indication of that on the body itself, and none on the clothing, either.”

“At least the poor kid was spared that,” Joanna murmured.

“Indeed,” Kendra agreed.

“What about that missing shoelace?” Joanna asked. “Since he was strangled, is it possible that’s the murder weapon?”

“I doubt it,” Kendra replied. “The hyoid bone was broken in more than one place. That would indicate brute force rather than a garrote.”

“But removing a shoelace from a high-topped sneaker isn’t an instant process. Why go to the trouble?”

“Trophy, maybe?” Kendra suggested.

“You’re suggesting the possibility of a serial killer?” Joanna asked.

“I am,” Kendra replied. “A perpetrator smart enough to dip his victim in bleach doesn’t sound like an amateur. Since the victim is from Naco, Sonora, you might ask Captain Pena if he can find any similar cases elsewhere in Sonora or even in Mexico at large.”

“I will,” Joanna answered. “I’ll also have Deb and Garth go looking for similar unsolved cases on this side of the border.”

“But about those shoes,” Kendra began.

“What about them?” Joanna asked.

“They look brand-new as opposed to used. There’s almost no wear on the soles, so why would a struggling single mom buy her kid a pair of shoes that are two sizes too big?”

“Maybe someone else bought them,” Joanna suggested.

“Maybe so,” Kendra agreed. “When I was growing up, each year for my birthday, my dad’s mother, who lived out of state, always sent me three pairs of panties that were two sizes too small. Maybe what we have here is someone who erred in the other direction.”

That was a nice enough thought, but as Joanna hung up the phone, she doubted that Xavier’s new sneakers had come from a distant but loving relative. It was more likely that a vicious killer had used those shoes as opposed to candy or food to lure an unsuspecting child into a vehicle.

Off the phone, she called the bullpen. Garth answered, and she passed this latest bit of information on to him. Then she called Arturo’s phone. He didn’t answer, so she left him a detailed message. She was off the phone and just turning on her computer when Tom Hadlock appeared in her doorway.

“Chain Gang has arrived at Saguaro Hills, and the transferees are being processed.”

“That’s a relief,” Joanna said. “Sounds as though that went through without a hitch. We’ve also reassigned beds in the jail. Once we unload one more set of five, we’ll be closer to being just overcrowded as opposed to dangerously so.

“Check with Saguaro Hills and see when we can send the next batch. In the meantime, I’ll call the contractor’s office to see where we are on the permit process.”

“Good,” Tom replied. “Hearing from you might make a difference. A chief deputy doesn’t have nearly the same kind of pull as a sheriff does.”

Joanna was about to dial Dave Ruiz’s number at the Ruiz Construction Company on her landline phone when her cell vibrated with Jenny’s photo showing in caller ID.

“Hey,” she answered, “how’s it going?”

“When I came home from work, I was worn out, but my body was wide awake,” Jenny said. “Going to sleep when the sun is coming up doesn’t really work for me. I tossed and turned for a long time, but I finally did get a couple hours of sleep.”

“Give yourself a few days,” Joanna advised. “How was your shift?”

“Okay,” Jenny replied. “A few traffic stops is all. No biggie.”

Joanna was all too aware that every traffic stop came with the possibility of going bad and turning fatal, but she didn’t say so. No doubt Jenny’s instructors at APOA had told her the same thing.

“But there is something I need to talk to you about.”

Joanna drew a quick breath. “Okay,” she said. “I’m listening.”

“Nick and I were talking on the way back to Tucson. We’d like to get married sooner rather than later.”

Here it comes , Joanna thought. History’s about to repeat itself. She’s about to tell me she’s pregnant.

“And, no, we’re not pregnant,” Jenny added, as though she had just read her mother’s mind.

“I have health insurance, and Nick doesn’t.

The only way I can add him to mine is if we get married, so what would you think if we got married over Christmas?

We don’t want a big wedding. We can’t afford one, and if we do it in Bisbee, the wedding can be at our church up Tombstone Canyon with Marianne officiating.

Then, maybe, if you and Dad don’t mind, we could have a small reception out at the ranch. ”

Jenny had spilled out the whole story in a rush of words. When she paused for breath, it took a moment for Joanna to reply. Hearing Jenny refer to Butch Dixon as “Dad” always grabbed Joanna’s heart, and the fact that Jenny most likely wasn’t expecting was cause for nothing short of rejoicing.

“I’ll have to talk to him about it,” Joanna answered, “but I can’t imagine that he’ll object.”

“You don’t mind?” Jenny asked.

“Not at all.”

“But please don’t talk to Dad about this,” Jenny said. “Let me. I’d rather do the asking myself. If he says yes, I’ll check with Marianne. I just saw my schedule and know I’ll have the Friday and Saturday before Christmas off, so I’ll need to see if she’s available for either of those.”

Not only was the Reverend Marianne Maculyea Joanna’s pastor at the Tombstone Canyon United Methodist Church, she’d also been Joanna’s best friend since seventh grade on.

During the social hour after church on Sunday, Joanna had mentioned to Marianne that Nick and Jenny were engaged, but it hadn’t occurred to her that a wedding ceremony this soon might be in the offing.

Now, on the phone, Joanna somehow stifled the urge to blurt out that there was no way in hell Jenny and Nick would be able to pull off a church wedding in less than a month.

Instead, she kept her response calm and reassuring. “Okey dokey,” she said. “Talk to Dad and see what he has to say.”

“But wait,” Jenny said. “There’s one more thing.”

“What’s that?”

“Do you still have the outfit you wore when you and Dad got married?”

Years before and just prior to the wedding, someone had set fire to Joanna’s house.

The blaze had been put out in a timely manner, and the culprit had been apprehended, but her original wedding outfit—a two-piece silk-brocade sheath with a matching full-length jacket—had been reduced to ashes.

On that occasion, her mother, Eleanor Lathrop Winfield, had ridden to the rescue by finding a replacement and having it shipped via FedEx.

It had arrived just in time for the ceremony.

After the wedding, Joanna had taken the outfit to the dry cleaner’s. It hung untouched, still in its clear plastic bag, at the far end of her closet. There had been no other occasion when wearing it would have been appropriate. Nonetheless, she hadn’t been able to part with it.

“Of course I still have it,” Joanna answered after a momentary pause. “Why?”

“Could I wear it?” Jenny asked. “Please? Not having to buy a dress would save a ton of money.”

Jenny’s figure wasn’t all that different from what Joanna’s had been when she and Butch married and before she’d had two more kids, but Jenny was a good four inches taller.

“Of course,” Joanna replied. “I’d be thrilled, but won’t it be too short?”

“Mom,” Jenny replied with a laugh. “We’re living in the twenty-first century. No one gives a damn about women’s hemlines anymore. So thanks, that takes a huge load off my mind.”

“Maybe so,” Joanna said, “but you might want to try it on the next time you’re in town, just to be sure.”

“Will do,” Jenny said. “I’m hanging up and calling Dad. Love you.”

With that the call ended, but instead of going ahead with her call to the contractor, Joanna simply sat and waited for Butch to get back to her. Five minutes later he did.

“Have you talked to Jenny?” he asked.

“I’m afraid so.”

“So you know she and Nick want to get married before Christmas?”

“Yes, I do. What did you tell her?”

“What do you think?” Butch replied. “I said it’s a-okay with me. Now the ball’s in Marianne’s court.”

“I’ll probably hear from her next,” Joanna said, and she wasn’t wrong. Bare minutes after the call with Butch ended, Marianne’s came through.

“Am I speaking to the mother of the bride?” she asked.

Joanna couldn’t help but laugh. “Apparently,” she answered.

“And the bride isn’t exactly following in her mother’s footsteps, either,” Marianne added. “Wanting Nick to have health insurance isn’t exactly the same as having a bun in the oven.”

On that score, Marianne Maculyea knew whereof she spoke. During the early months of Joanna’s unexpected pregnancy, aside from Andy, Marianne, her best friend, had been her only confidante.

“In other words, shut my mouth and get with the program?”

“Pretty much,” Marianne agreed. “How’s that for your comforting pastoral counsel for the day?”

“Just the kick in the butt I needed,” Joanna replied. “Did the two of you pick a date?”

“Yup. Two p.m. on Saturday, December twenty-third. I told her we’ll need to set up dates in advance of that for some premarital counseling sessions, but I can drive up to Tucson for those instead of having them come here.”

“Good enough,” Joanna said. “Thanks, Marianne. I’m not at all sure how we’ll manage this in less than a month, but one way or another we’ll get it done.”