Devil’s Claw

“Come on,” she pleaded. “Don’t make a big deal out of this. It was nothing but an oversight on my part. It certainly wasn’t deliberate. We were all busy, Frank, and it slipped my mind. Besides, until Lance brought up the subject of the Lexus, there was no possible way for anyone to see a co

“I suppose not,” Frank grumbled, but Joa

“Tell me about Catherine Yates,” she said, trying to change the subject. “If she didn’t bother to mention that her daughter was being released from prison, she wasn’t exactly being forthright with you. What’s her story?”

“I don’t know. She’s an Indian-part, anyway. Apache, I believe. She told me that her granddaughter has lived with her for several years. She implied there was some kind of family problem-a sticky divorce or something. But when I asked if Lucy might have gone off to live with her father, she said that wasn’t possible. That he wasn’t in the picture.

“Here’s the turnoff to her place,” Frank added, switching on the turn signal.

“Wait,” Joa

Obligingly, Frank pulled over next to a mailbox on top of a leaning wooden post and put the Ford in neutral. Meanwhile, Joa

“Larry,” she said when the dispatcher’s voice came through. “When Pima County sent down the information on that stolen Lexus, did they include a rap sheet on Sandra Ridder?”

“Sure did.”

“Does it say what she went to prison for?”

“Man-one. Sentenced to ten years and served almost eight.”

“Does it say who she killed?”

“Yup, her husband, one Thomas Dawson Ridder.”

“Thanks, Larry,” Joa

“We’ve got one of those, too.”

She glanced at Frank. “Is your wireless fax working?”

Frank Montoya had spent months and several thousand drug-enforcement dollars turning his Crown Victoria into a fully equipped mobile office.

He nodded.

“Fax everything you have to Frank’s computer.”

“Will do, Sheriff Brady,” Larry Kendrick replied. “But it’s going to take a couple of minutes. I’m here by myself and another call is just coming in.”

“Take your time, Larry,” she told him. “No rush.”

Putting the microphone down, Joa

“This is how it looks to me.” Frank held up one hand and began ticking off his fingers. “On the surface of it, it’s easy to say that a marauding band of UDAs is responsible for whatever went on back there and let it go at that. But I’ve got a different idea. How does this sound? First Mommy whacks Daddy, and somebody sees to it that Mommy goes to prison. Later Mommy gets out of prison. As soon as she does, somebody whacks her. Immediately prior to that or else immediately thereafter, Baby Daughter disappears. Sounds to me like one way or the other, we’ve got a whole new set of reasons to go looking for Lucinda Ridder. Either she’s a victim, too, or else she’s something a whole lot worse.”

Sighing, Joa

“That’s fu

“What’s fu

“That’s exactly what Catherine Yates told me earlier this afternoon about Lucinda. She said Lucy’s a nice girl.”

“Right,” Joa

CHAPTER 7

As soon as Frank’s Crown Victoria pulled into Catherine Yates’ yard, the porch light snapped on and the front door slammed open. A stocky woman in blue jeans and a flapping denim shirt came hurrying off the front porch of a tiny square house.

“Did you find her?” she demanded of Frank Montoya as he rolled down the driver’s window.

“No, ma’am,” he said. “I’m sorry to report that we still haven’t found your granddaughter. I’ve brought Sheriff Joa

Joa

Catherine Yates’ work-hardened fingers closed around Joa

“I came because we need to speak to you about your daughter,” Joa

“About Sandra?” Catherine asked. “How come? My granddaughter’s the one who’s missing.”

“You told Frank that you were expecting Sandra home soon. Is it possible that she and Lucinda took off together?”

Asking the question, Joa

Behind her, Frank switched off his Crown Victoria-his Civvie, as he preferred to call it-and emerged into the chill early evening air.

“No,” Catherine Yates was saying. “That wouldn’t have happened. Lucy wouldn’t have gone anywhere with her mother.”

“How can you be sure of that?” Joa

Catherine Yates simply shook her head and said nothing.

“All right, then,” Joa

Catherine glanced warily at Frank Montoya before she answered. “I heard from Sandra just yesterday afternoon,” she said. “Sandy called from Tucson and told me she had been released. She said she was spending last night in Tucson with a friend. I told your deputies that earlier. I expect her home sometime today or tomorrow.”

“What friend?” Joa

“A friend, that’s all.”

“Look, Ms. Yates, I’m sure this is all terribly painful for you to discuss. Otherwise you would have told Chief Deputy Montoya the whole story earlier. We already know that your daughter was released from prison yesterday afternoon, so it’s no secret. Just tell us. Have you heard from her since then?”

Catherine Yates bowed her head. For a moment her face was obscured by a curtain of shoulder-length gray hair. Seeing her face in the dim glow of a yard light, it was easy to understand why Frank might have been in doubt about the woman’s ethnic heritage. She could easily have passed for either Hispanic or Indian, although there was clearly some Anglo blood mixed in as well.

“No,” Catherine said finally. “Sandra hasn’t called me, and I haven’t tried reaching her, either. In fact, I’ve been dreading talking to her all day long-ever since I realized Lucy was gone. I didn’t want to be the one to have to tell Sandy that Lucy had run away.”