Missing and Endangered (Joanna Brady #19)(13)
Cochise County, Joanna’s jurisdiction, was eighty miles wide and eighty miles tall. With only a bare minimum of sworn officers on duty at any given time, an emergency like this required moving assets around like pieces on a gigantic desertscape chessboard.
“Good decision,” Joanna told him. “Now, what about DPS? When are they due?”
“The Tucson sector has advised us that one of their investigators is having to come from Casa Grande. The other is from Tucson. They’re expected to show up together eventually, but we don’t have an ETA. At this time I’d say they’re still an hour or more out. In addition, DPS is shorthanded on CSIs at the moment, so they’re requesting that our CSIs respond to the scene.”
Joanna knew that the DPS investigators involved wouldn’t be happy at this turn of events, but it wasn’t her problem. Since their own department had made the call, they could either like it or lump it.
“Are Dave and Casey on their way then?” she asked.
“They are,” Tom answered, “and so is Doc Baldwin.”
Joanna’s trusted two-person CSI team was made up of Dave Hollicker and Casey Ledford. Dr. Kendra Baldwin was the Cochise County medical examiner.
“What about Detectives Carbajal and Howell?” Tom asked. “Should I send them along as well?”
Joanna thought about that for a moment. If the DPS resented having to use another department’s CSIs, having her detectives show up at the crime scene would make things that much worse.
“Nope,” she said. “The DPS guys will most likely already have their noses out of joint at having to work with our CSIs, so let’s leave Deb and Jaime out of the mix. In the meantime I’m coming up on Sierra Vista and need to get off the phone. I’ve got a lead on a current location for Deputy Ruiz’s wife. I’m planning on stopping by to tell her what’s happened before heading over to Whetstone. I’ll call you back when I’m done with the notification. And be sure to tell Deputy Raymond to keep those two kids separate from their mother until someone has a chance to interview them. If it turns out they did witness the shooting, we’ll need statements from both of them.”
“Roger that,” Tom said.
Joanna ended the call and then summoned Siri. “Please give me driving directions to Carmichael Elementary School in Sierra Vista, Arizona.”
Eight minutes later Joanna pulled in to a visitor space in the school’s parking lot. When she walked into the office, a sour-faced woman glared at her from the far side of a chest-high counter.
“We don’t allow guns in here,” she snarled. “Didn’t you see the sign?” she added, pointing to the no-guns-allowed notice stenciled on the office door.
When Joanna was first elected, she had worn civilian clothing. Too many wrecked sets of pantyhose and damaged pantsuits and skirts had sent her in search of more durable choices in attire. These days she usually wore the same uniform her officers did, with both her name and her badge displayed front and center and with a holstered weapon on her hip. The total illogic of forbidding an armed and fully trained police officer to set foot on the school grounds carrying his or her weapons was enough to set Joanna’s teeth on edge.
“I’m Sheriff Joanna Brady,” she announced. “I have zero intention of relinquishing my weapon. If you’d like to take it away from me, you're welcome to try. In the meantime I need to speak to the principal about an urgent matter.”
The woman hesitated, looking as though she were prepared to argue the point. The slight delay sent Joanna’s quick temper up another notch. “Now!” she added forcefully.
Shaking her head, the woman shuffled over to an open door and spoke into it. “Ms. Hayes, there’s someone here to see you—the sheriff. She says it’s urgent, but you need to know she’s got a gun.”
“Did you tell her this is a gun-free zone?”
“Why don’t you try telling her that yourself? Or maybe we should call the school resource officer.”
“I’ll handle it,” another female voice said in the background.
The woman who emerged from the office was probably ten years Joanna’s senior. Surprisingly enough, she approached with a tight-lipped smile on her face.
“Welcome to Carmichael Elementary, Sheriff Brady. I’m Wanda Hayes, the principal. What can we do for you today?” she asked, staring pointedly at Joanna’s holstered weapon.
“I need to speak to Amy Ruiz.”
“Ms. Ruiz is in class right now, and I can’t allow you to go wandering the halls. Lunchtime will start in about twenty minutes and—”
Joanna stopped her short. “Amy’s husband, Deputy Armando Ruiz, has been seriously wounded and is currently being airlifted to a trauma unit in Tucson. I’m here to deliver that news in person. And you might want to think about arranging for a substitute teacher. I have a feeling Amy’s going to be off work for the next several days.”
As Joanna spoke, the supercilious smile faded from the principal’s face. “Call Ms. Ruiz and ask her to come to the office,” she said over her shoulder to the woman still lingering in the background. “When you do, tell her I’m coming down to cover her class.” Then, to Joanna, she added, “When she gets here, you’ll need privacy. You’re welcome to use my office.”
“Thank you,” Joanna said.