Missing and Endangered (Joanna Brady #19)(40)

“No idea.”

“At any rate, there isn’t enough residue inside either sleeve to reach the threshold of proving that she actually fired a weapon, although she was most likely in close contact with one when it went off.”

“Can you draw any conclusions?”

“Based on the location of the bullet hole we found inside the house, I’d say this suggests there was an altercation of some kind during which both Leon and Madison Hogan were both trying to gain possession of the weapon.”

“What I think,” Joanna said, “is that she brought the weapon to Leon’s house with every intention of using it on him and then trying to stage the scene so it looked like suicide. Instead Leon ended up turning the tables on her long enough to chase her out of the house.”

“Makes sense,” Casey said, “but what about those two poor kids? What’s going to happen to them?”

Joanna shook her head. “I’d say that with their father dead and their mother most likely a gun-wielding maniac, they’re pretty much up shit creek.”

“At least she locked them in the bedroom before everything went down.”

“For whatever that’s worth,” Joanna grumbled.

Casey stood up. “All right, then,” she said. “If there’s anything more you need, let me know.”

“Thanks,” Joanna replied. “I will.”

As soon as Casey left her office, Joanna picked up her phone and dialed Deb Howell’s number.

“Where are you?” Joanna asked.

“I’m on my way to have a chat with Arlene Ambrose, the CPS social worker who took charge of Kendall and Peter after the shooting. I don’t know what if anything she’ll tell me. At the very least, I’m going to try to get her to think about launching an investigation into the kids’ welfare on her end.”

“Here’s something that might help light a fire under her,” Joanna said. “Casey found traces of GSR on the borrowed robe Madison Hogan wore yesterday. A possible conclusion is that Madison was in possession of the Glock at the time she drove the kids to Leon’s house in Whetstone.”

“A woman with a history of domestic-violence arrests and a Glock in hand doesn’t make for motherhood and apple pie,” Deb said. “I’m not sure that’ll be enough to get Mrs. Ambrose off the dime, but I’ll do my best. On another topic, though, I just found out about Ernie. Did you know he’s leaving?”

Obviously, word about Ernie’s looming departure was spreading fast.

“I’m pretty sure he mentioned it,” Joanna said. What she failed to say was exactly when the issue of Ernie’s retirement had been broached for the first time.

“He told Jaime and Delcia last night and let me know this morning,” Deb continued. “He’s always been here, and I’m going to miss him terribly. If it hadn’t been for Ernie, I wouldn’t be a detective right now.”

“Don’t be so sure about that,” Joanna counseled. “You’re right about his helping you along. Ernie saw your potential early on and was instrumental in getting you to focus it, but I’m pretty sure that even if it took a little longer, you would have made the grade on your own. Now, though, it’ll be up to you and Jaime to return the favor. Whoever I promote is probably going to need a leg up.”

“Like Garth Raymond, maybe?” Deb asked.

Deb’s question gave Joanna a subtle hint as to which candidate her current crop of detectives favored. “Too soon to say,” she replied.

“Will there be a retirement party?”

“You’d better believe it,” Joanna said. “It’ll be at the Rob Roy the evening of the twenty-sixth, and I expect you and Jaime to roast Ernie within an inch of his life.”

“Roger that,” Deb said. “I’ll be there with bells on.”

As Joanna ended the call with Deb, the landline phone on her desk rang.

“Good morning,” Dr. Kendra Baldwin said when Joanna picked up. “I’m sure Dave Newton would go apoplectic at my calling you, but I just sent my finalized copy of Leon Hogan’s autopsy report to him and thought I owed you a courtesy call as well.”

“Let me guess,” Joanna said. “Our shooting victim died of a single gunshot wound to the chest.”

“Well, yes,” Kendra agreed, “there’s that. But there are a few additional details as well. For one thing, there were very recent scratches all over his face. Like he’d been in a serious hand-to-hand altercation shortly before he was shot and his opponent was trying to fend him off.”

Joanna thought back to what Casey had told her a few minutes earlier about the bullet hole in the living-room ceiling and the suggestion that the shot had been fired in the course of a struggle to gain control of the weapon.

“Could the scratches have come from someone attacking him?” Joanna suggested.

“Possibly,” Dr. Baldwin allowed.

“Was he drunk?” Joanna asked.

“Drunk?” Kendra sounded a bit puzzled. “I found no blood-alcohol content at all.”

“Armando told his wife that when Leon Hogan came to the door that morning he appeared to be under the influence.”

“He may have been,” Kendra conceded. “If so, it wasn’t due to booze. If there was something else in his system, it’ll show up in the tox screen. No telling how long that will take. By the way, I mentioned all of this to Dave Newton. He had glommed onto what Armando said about Leon Hogan being under the influence. He was not at all happy when I told him no alcohol was involved.”