“It’s Frank Montoya, Jenny,” the chief deputy said. “I need to talk to you.”
Relieved to hear a familiar voice, Jenny raced to the door and flung it open. Then, embarrassed, she stepped away. “Hello,” she said in a subdued voice.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
She nodded. “I guess so,” she said. “Did you call my mom?”
“Yes.
“Is she coming home?”
“Not tonight. She’ll he home tomorrow.”
Jennifer Brady heaved a sigh of relief. She wasn’t yet ready to face her mother.
“Your grandparents are coming to get you,” Frank Montoya continued.
Jenny’s stomach did a flip-flop. “Which ones?” she asked.
“Mr. and Mrs. Brady. They’ll be here soon.”
Jenny swallowed hard and offered Frank Montoya a tentative smile. Grandpa and Grandma Brady would be far easier to deal with than Grandma Lathrop Winfield would be. Her mother’s mother had a way of always making things seem far worse than they were, although, in this case, having things get worse hardly seemed possible.
“What about Dora’s mother?” Jenny asked. “Is she coining, too?”
“So far we haven’t been able to contact Mrs. Matthews,” Frank Montoya explained. “We may have to ask your grandparents to take Dora into town as well. If Mrs. Matthews still isn’t home by the time you arrive, maybe your grandparents can look after Dora until we’re able to notify her mother.”
“No,” Dora said, emerging barefoot from the bathroom. She was wearing the same dirty clothing she’d worn before, but her clean wet hair was wrapped in a towel. “I can go home even if my mom isn’t there. Just have them drop me off at our house. I’ll be tine.”
“I’m sorry, Dora. We can’t do that. Your mother expects you to be on the camp-out until Monday morning. She also expects you to be properly supervised. We can’t drop you off at home without an adult there to look after you. Mrs. Lambert would have a liability problem if we did that, and so would the sheriff’s department.”
“I don’t know why,” Dora said. “I stay alone by myself a lot. It’s no big deal.”
“You’re sure you don’t know where your mother is?”
Dora shrugged. “She has a boyfriend,” she said offhandedly. “They probably just went off someplace. You know, for sex and stuff. I’m sure that’s why she was so set on my going on the campout—so she could be rid of me for a while.”
Taken aback by Dora’s matter-of-fact manner, Frank looked at her and frowned. “Does your mother do that often, leave you alone?”
“I can take care of myself,” Dora retorted. “It’s not like I’m going to starve to death or anything. There’s plenty of food in the house. I can make sandwiches and stuff.”
Frank’s radio crackled, announcing Dr. Winfield’s arrival at the crime scene. “Before you head back to town, I need to ask you a few questions,” Deputy Montoya said. “You girls didn’t see anyone around when you found the body, did you?”
Both girls shook their heads in unison.
“Or see anything that seemed odd?”
“No,” Jenny answered.
“What about picking something up or moving it?”
“I know enough not to mess with evidence,” Jenny put in. “As soon as we saw the body, we came running straight back here and told Mrs. Lambert.”
“But the body’s a long way from camp, almost half a mile. What made you go so far?”
“As soon as we put out the cigarettes, I could smell it—the body, I mean. I told Dora something was dead, but she thought I was just making it up, so I had to show her. I thought we’d find a dead deer or a cow or a coyote, not a woman. Not a person. Do you know who she is?”
“Not yet,” Frank replied. “We’ll figure it out eventually.”
Before Frank had a chance to back out the motor home, there was another knock from outside. As soon as Frank opened the door, Eva Lou Brady darted inside. She wrapped both arms around Jenny and pulled her granddaughter into a smothering bear hug. “Are you all right?” she demanded.
Trapped between Eva Lou Brady’s ample breasts, all Jenny could do was nod.
Her grandmother loosened her grip on Jenny and turned to Dora. “And you must be Sally Pommer’s little girl. I knew your grandmother,” Eva Lou added kindly. “Dolly and I used to volunteer together out at Meals on Wheels. I understand someone brought your backpacks and bedrolls up from your tent. Jim Bob’s loading them into the car right now. Are you ready to go?”
Dora unwrapped the towel and dropped it on the floor. “I am,” she said. Jenny was surprised to see that Dora’s usually dingy brown hair was shining in the glow cast by the motor home’s generator-powered fluorescent light fixture.
Eva Lou bent over, picked up the wet towel, and handed it back to Dora. “I’m sure you didn’t mean to leave this lying on the floor. As soon as you hang it up, we’ll be going.”
For a moment Jenny thought Dora was going to say something smart. Instead, without a word, she stomped back into the bathroom and jammed the wet towel onto a wooden towel bar. “If that’s okay, maybe we can go now.”
“Yes,” said Eva Lou, guiding Jenny and Dora past Frank Montoya, who still stood in the open doorway. “I’m sure that will he just tine.”
The girls and their gear were both in the back of the Bradys’ Honda when Frank Montoya handed his phone to Grandma Brady. With a sinking feeling, Jenny knew at once that the person on the phone had to be her mother. Sliding down in the car seat, Jenny closed her eyes and wished she were somewhere else. A minute or so later, Eva Lou tapped on the window and motioned for Jenny to get out of the car.
“It’s for you,” Grandma Brady said. “Your mother wants to speak to you.”
Reluctantly, Jenny scrambled out of the car and took the phone, but she walked around to the far side of the motor home before she answered it. There were flashlights flickering in the other tents. Jenny knew that in the stillness, all the other girls in the troop were watching the excitement and straining to hear every word.
“Hello, Mom,” Jenny said.
“Are you all right?” Joanna demanded.
Hot tears stung Jenny’s eyes. “I guess so,” she muttered.
If Joanna had been ready to light into Jenny about her misbehavior, the faltering, uncertain sound of her daughter’s subdued voice was enough to change her mind and melt her heart. “What happened?” she asked.
Jenny’s tears boiled over. “I got into trouble, Mom,” she sobbed. “I didn’t mean to do it . . . trying the cigarette, I mean. It was like an accident, or something. Dora asked me and I said yes, even though I knew I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry, Mom. Really I am.”
“Of course you’re sorry, Jenny,” Joanna said. “Grandma and Grandpa are there now to take you home, right?”
“Yes,” Jenny murmured uncertainly with a stifled sob, her tears still very close to the surface.
“We’ll talk about this tomorrow,” Joanna said. “But in the meantime, I want you to know I love you.”
“‘Thank you.”
“Grandma told me that you reported finding the body even though you knew you’d probably get in trouble. That was brave of you, Jenny. Brave and responsible. I’m really proud of you for doing that.
“Thanks,” Jenny managed.
“You go with the Gs now. I’ll see you tomorrow when I get home. Okay?”
“‘kay, Morn.”
“Bye-bye.”
“Bye.”
“I love you.”
Jenny switched off the phone and then blundered back toward Grandma and Grandpa’s Honda. At the far end of the state, Sheriff Joanna Brady turned to her new husband.
“How’d I do?” she asked.
“Cool,” he said. “Understated elegance. Now come back to bed and let’s try to get some sleep. I have a feeling we’re going to need it.”