“I still think we should get dressed and head out just as soon as—”
“Why?” Frank interrupted. “What difference is it going to make if you get here at eight o’clock in the morning or at two o’clock in the afternoon? Jenny’s fine, and she’ll be in good hands with the Bradys taking care of her. As for the homicide investigation, we have that under control. Ernie Carpenter and Doc Winfield are both on their way and should be here in a matter of minutes. As soon as one of them shows up, I’ll go check on Jenny, but from what Faye Lambert said, I think she’s fine. Jenny and her friend found the body, and they reported it to Mrs. Lambert right away.
“But where was it, right there where they’re camping?”
“Not exactly,” Frank said. “It seems that after lights-out, Jenny and the other girl, Dora Matthews, snuck off by themselves to smoke a cigarette—”
“‘They did what?”
“Went to smoke a cigarette. Jenny evidently got sick to her stomach and barfed her guts out. It was sometime after that they found the body. I’m at the crime scene now. I’d say it’s a good half mile from where the girls are camping.”
“What’s going on?” Butch asked in the background. “Has something happened to Jenny?”
“Cigarettes!” Joanna exclaimed, waving aside Butch’s question. “Jenny was smoking cigarettes? I’ll kill her. Put her on the phone.”
“I can’t. I already told you, she isn’t here right now,” Frank said. “She’s back at camp and that’s a good half a mile from the crime scene. Faye left the girls in a motor home back at the campsite and gave them strict orders not to budge until we get there, which shouldn’t be all that long now.”
“As soon as I can get dressed and out of here, we’ll be on our way,” Joanna said.
“Come on, Boss,” Frank returned. “Page is at least an eight-hour drive from here, even the way you drive. It’s also the middle of the night. The last thing we need is for you to take off at midnight to drive home. You’ll end up in a wreck somewhere between here and there. I’ve got things under control as far as the investigation is concerned, and your in-laws are coming to take care of Jenny. I suggest that you try to get a decent night’s sleep right where you are and then drive home in the morning.”
Joanna had been pacing back and forth across the room with the phone in one hand and a fistful of clothing in the other. Now she stopped pacing and took a deep breath. Even in her agitated state she could see there would be plenty of time for her to deal with Jenny and her experimentation with cigarettes. The real point of Frank’s middle-of-the-night phone call was the homicide in Joanna’s jurisdiction. That meant she needed to switch off her motherly outrage and put on her sheriff persona.
“You’d better tell me what you know about the victim,” she said. “Any idea who she is?”
“No,” Frank answered. “She’s naked. No ID, nothing.”
“And no vehicle?”
“Not that we’ve been able to find so far. I’d say she was killed somewhere else and then dumped here. Of course, Doc Winfield will be able to tell us more about that.”
“You’ll cast for tire tracks?” Joanna asked.
“Yes, but depending on how long ago she was brought here, I doubt if tire casts will do us any good.”
By then, Butch had switched on his lamp and was sitting up on his side of the bed. “Do I get dressed or don’t I?” he asked.
Joanna knew Frank Montoya was right. Driving through the night on less than two hours’ sleep made no sense. “No,” she said to Butch. “Not yet.”
“Not yet what?” Frank asked.
“I was talking to Butch. You’re right. We probably shouldn’t leave until morning, but I’d like to talk to Jim Bob and Eva Lou before I make a final decision. And to Jenny,” she added.
“All right,” Frank said. “Since I’ve got a decent cell-phone signal here, it’ll probably work at the camp, too. As soon as we’re all in one place, I’ll give you a call back.”
“Thanks,” Joanna said. “Sounds good.”
She ended the call and then crawled back into bed.
“So what’s the deal?” Butch asked.
“Jenny and Dora Matthews snuck out of camp after lights-out to smoke cigarettes,” she answered. “While they were doing that, they stumbled upon a homicide victim. Jim Bob and Eva Lou are coming to pick the girls up and take them home to Bisbee.”
“But the girls are both all right?”
“Fine,” Joanna answered testily. “At least they will be until I catch up with them. I can’t believe it. Jenny smoking! What do you suppose got into her?”
“She’s twelve,” Butch said, stifling a yawn. “She’s growing up, trying her wings. Don’t make a federal case out of-it.”
Joanna turned on him, mouth agape. “What do you mean by that?”
“I mean stay cool,” he said. “It’s only cigarettes. The more you overreact, the worse it’ll be. Think about you and your mother. What about all the things Eleanor used to tell you not to do?”
“I couldn’t wait to go out and try them,” Joanna conceded. “Every single one of Eleanor’s thou-shalt-nots, right down the line, turned into one of my must-dos.”
Butch reached over and wrapped an arm around Joanna’s shoulder, pulling her toward him. “There you are,” he said with a grin. “I rest my case. Now tell me all about our daughter finding a body. Cigarettes be damned, it sounds to me as though Jenny’s trying her damnedest to follow in her mother’s footsteps.”
Jennifer Ann Brady sat miserably on the leather couch of Mr. Foxworth’s surprisingly spacious motor home and waited to see what would happen. Jenny’s mother got angry sometimes, but when she did, her voice was really quiet—a whisper almost. When Mrs. Lambert was angry, she yelled, loud enough for everyone in camp to hear every word. She had yelled about what an incredibly irresponsible thing it had been for Jenny and Dora to run out like that. And how unacceptable it was for them to smoke cigarettes! Furthermore, Mrs. Lambert said, since Jenny and Dora had proved themselves to be untrustworthy, she was in the process of notifying their parents to come get them. They wouldn’t be allowed to stay in camp for the remainder of the weekend.
For Jenny, who wasn’t used to being in trouble, Mrs. Lambert’s red-faced tirade was uncharted territory. Because Jenny knew she deserved it, she had taken the dressing-down with her own flushed tic e bowed in aching embarrassment.
Dora, on the other hand, had casually shrugged of the whole thing. As soon as Mrs. Lambert finished yelling at them, grabbed her cell phone, and marched outside, Dora had stuck her tongue out at Mrs. Lambert’s retreating back as the door closed.
“What does she know?” Dora demanded. “The hell with her! I’m going to go take a shower.”
“A shower!” Jenny yelped. “You can’t do that. You heard what Mrs. Lambert said. No showers. There isn’t enough water. If you use too much, the other girls may run out of water before the weekend is over.”
“So what ?” Dora asked with a shrug. “What do I care? She’s going to send us home anyway.”
“But we’ll get in even more trouble.”
“So what?” Dora repeated with another shrug. “Who cares? At least I’ll be clean for a change.” With that, she flounced into the bathroom and locked the door behind her.
Jenny, alone in the living room, was left wondering. She had always thought Dora was dirty because she liked being dirty and that her body odor was a result of not knowing any better. Now, as Jenny listened to the shower running for what seemed like endless minutes, she wasn’t so sure.
There was a knock on the door. Jenny jumped. She started to get up to answer it, but then thought better of it. “Who is it?” she asked. Since the shower was still running, she prayed whoever was outside wouldn’t be Mrs. Lambert, and her wish was granted.