Missing and Endangered (Joanna Brady #19)(20)
Starting out in law enforcement—after Joanna’s election but before she’d put herself through the rigors of police-academy training—she’d already known that domestic-violence calls were inherently hazardous for first responders—cops and EMTs alike. For years, though, her knowledge of domestic violence had been more of the textbook variety. She’d had no personal experience with that kind of behavior—not with her first husband, Andrew Brady, nor with her father, and certainly not with Butch. But her hand-to-hand battle with Jeremy Stock had taught her that people who commit domestic violence can often look like the guy next door. In fact, they might just be the guy next door.
Joanna couldn’t help but wonder if having that kind of traumatic experience in her own background made her a more effective leader or a less effective one? If today’s events were any indication, the jury on that was still up for grabs.
These days whenever Joanna’s officers were being summoned to domestic-violence calls, she had to fight to remain calm and in command when what she really wanted to do was give way to panic, get far from the conflict, and bury her head under the covers.
That morning she’d been unaware Deputy Ruiz had been dispatched to deliver Madison Hogan’s protection order. That had somehow slipped under her radar, but even if it hadn’t, would she have insisted on sending a backup officer along with him? The truth is, probably not, because she didn’t have the manpower.
And then there was the situation with body cameras. A year earlier Joanna’s request for funds to purchase bodycams had been x-ed out of her budget. According to Tom Hadlock, once the shooting ended, Madison Hogan had promptly started pointing the finger at Deputy Ruiz. Had he been wearing a body camera, most likely the video footage would have exonerated him completely, but now should the incident in Whetstone devolve into a he said/she said situation, Soccer Ball Guy would probably take Madison’s word as the gospel.
But it was the word “gospel” in her mental meanderings that brought Joanna up short. She immediately redialed Tom’s number.
“Does Reverend Maculyea know about any of this?” Joanna asked.
Marianne Maculyea and Joanna Brady had been best friends from junior high on. Not only was Reverend Maculyea Joanna’s pastor at Tombstone Canyon United Methodist Church, she was also chaplain to local law-enforcement agencies as well as to the Bisbee Fire Department.
“She does,” Tom answered. “I called her first thing. She has a pre-wedding counseling session scheduled this afternoon at four. Since the wedding’s this weekend, she can’t postpone, but she’ll be heading to Tucson as soon as the appointment is over.”
When Joanna had plucked Tom Hadlock out of his jail-commander slot and installed him as her chief deputy, she’d despaired of his ever making the grade, but now, nearly two years in, he appeared to be firing on all cylinders. The idea that he’d thought to notify Marianne Maculyea without having to be specifically asked to do so was a big checkmark in his favor. If Marianne was coming to the hospital, Joanna would be there to serve as backup for Amy Ruiz and Marianne would be backup for Joanna. That made for a win-win.
As Joanna approached the hospital grounds on Campbell, she barely recognized the place. It seemed to have doubled in size from when she’d been here with Andy all those years ago. The main entrance was different. The parking structure was different. Even so, as soon as she stepped inside the building itself, it seemed all too oppressively familiar. Andy had been shot elsewhere, but it was here in this hospital where she’d finally lost him. And she knew that in coming here Marianne would suffer a similar flashback.
Years earlier, after being childless for years, Marianne and her husband, Jeff, had brought twin baby girls—Ruth and Esther—home from an orphanage in China. Esther’s health had been precarious from the start, and when surgeons at the then University Medical Center had attempted a heart transplant, Esther hadn’t survived. Ruth, healthy and sassy, now happily spent her spare time out in the garage with her dad, learning to be a wrench-wielding gearhead. Jeffy, the surprise bundle of joy who had arrived long after Jeff and Marianne had given up hope of ever having biological children, was a quiet kid who loved books and drawing.
Even though Jeff’s and Marianne’s lives appeared to be complete now, Joanna knew that her friend carried an unhealed wound in her heart. Coming here automatically forced Joanna to revisit Andy’s death, and Marianne would be dealing with Esther’s. For both of them, their good deeds in caring for Amy Ruiz would not go unpunished.
Joanna made her way to the OR waiting room, expecting at any moment to be accosted by someone objecting to the presence of her firearm, but no one said a word. Before exiting the elevator on the OR floor, she said a silent prayer asking for guidance, and then, squaring her shoulders, she entered the waiting room. She expected to find Amy Ruiz already there, but she wasn’t. The room was full of people, all of them strangers.
Joanna tucked herself away in a corner seat and waited. She sat there for a while, but then, remembering she’d been putting the final touches on her budget request that morning, she pulled out her iPad. Butch had fixed her laptop so she could access files remotely from the tablet. She wasn’t nearly as fast typing on the iPad’s flat keyboard as on a real one, but she could do editing just fine. And that’s what she did. While she was at it, she put in an additional request. She still had access to the line item that had included the amount necessary for body cameras. She added that one in, right along with her request for extra personnel.