Missing and Endangered (Joanna Brady #19)(50)
Kendall’s heart leaped. Daddy’s parents were here?
“Well, they’re not seeing the kids!” Mommy said. “Tell them to go away.”
“For Pete’s sake, Maddie!” Grandma Puckett exclaimed. “They’re Leon’s parents. They’ve come all the way from Wyoming.”
“They could have come from Australia for all I care,” Mommy said, raising her voice. “I don’t want to see them, and the kids can’t see them either. Leon was trying to kill me! If that cop hadn’t been there, he would have succeeded, too, but you still think I should roll out the red carpet for them? Not on your life. I don’t mind if they come to the funeral. That’s up to them, but if you think I’m going to have those people in my house or chumming around with my kids, think again.”
Kendall’s heart constricted. Daddy had been trying to kill Mommy? That couldn’t be true! No way! He wouldn’t have done that, not ever. Mommy had come after Daddy sometimes, but never the other way around.
“This is just so wrong,” Grandma Puckett was saying, but it sounded as though she was walking away from the kitchen. Kendall heard the front door open again. A few words were exchanged, and then the door closed again.
From the kitchen Kendall heard the thunk of an empty beer bottle landing in the trash. The refrigerator door squeaked open and shut. Mommy was probably getting another beer. Their fridge sometimes ran out of milk, but it was never in any danger of running out of beer.
“Speaking of the funeral,” Grandma said, picking up the conversation. “What are you going to wear? For that matter, what are the kids going to wear?”
“I’ll find something,” Mommy said. “I’ve lost weight, so now some of my old clothes fit me again. As for the kids? Whatever they wear to school will be fine.”
A couple times a year, Mommy would go to Goodwill and come home with bags of clothing. Some of it fit and some didn’t. Kendall knew that a few of the kids made fun of them because their supposedly “new” clothes weren’t new at all.
“I’ll take them shopping tomorrow,” Grandma Puckett announced. “I noticed tonight that Peter’s pant legs are at least three inches too short, and Kendall’s shoes have seen better days.”
“That’s totally up to you,” Mommy said. “The last thing I want to do is spend the day dragging kids in and out of stores. Besides, I have an appointment with the funeral director in the morning. You can take the kids shopping while I take care of that.”
“How much is the funeral going to cost?”
“I have no idea,” Mommy said. “Some money has come into that GoFundMe account—about three thousand dollars the last I checked. But I told the guy at the funeral home that we’ve got to keep the price down to a bare minimum. Cremation and an urn—that’s it. I’m not paying for a casket just so they can burn it to cinders. Randy told me that if I come up short, he’ll take care of the difference.”
“Big of him,” Grandma Puckett said, but it didn’t sound like she meant it as a compliment.
“Don’t you start saying bad things about Randy,” Mommy objected, her voice rising in pitch. “He takes good care of me.”
So did Daddy, Kendall thought as she finally drifted off to sleep. But he took care of all of us.
Chapter 20
Joanna’s phone was ringing as she stepped out of the shower the next morning. When she picked it up, Casey Ledford’s face was showing in caller ID.
“You’re at work early,” Joanna observed when she answered.
“I’m not at work yet,” Casey replied. “A text from DPS came in while I was eating breakfast. Stains on the protective order test positive for scopolamine. If you happen to be doing CSI work for one of the big shots at DPS, you get first-rate service.”
“Are you saying you want to make the switch and go work for them?” Joanna asked.
“Not on your life,” Casey said with a laugh. “Chances are the place is teeming with plenty of other people just like Dave Newton.”
“So what’s the next step?” Joanna asked. “Not that you’re allowed to tell me, that is.”
“That’ll be Dave Newton’s call. He was copied on the same text that just showed up here, and it certainly lends credence to Armando’s claim that Leon Hogan was impaired at the time of the shooting. Once I get into the office and have a chance to enhance them, I’ll be sending him and you some of our crime scene photos.”
Joanna was puzzled. “What kind of crime scene photos?” she asked.
“Just wait and see,” Casey said. “I think you’ll find them interesting.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t think Madison Hogan had time to clean up her mess before she went racing out of that living room.”
In the kitchen Joanna found that Denny had been delivered to his bus stop and a previously read copy of the Bisbee Bee lay on the table next to her place setting. She started to reach for it, but Butch stopped her.
“Don’t bother reading it,” he said. “Marliss has outdone herself with a puff piece on Dave Newton. It’s all about how rogue law-enforcement officers operating out of mismanaged jurisdictions must be held to account when it comes to line-of-duty shootings that put innocent civilians in harm’s way. Those aren’t the exact words Marliss used, but you get the picture.”