Missing and Endangered (Joanna Brady #19)(53)

As Joanna drove out of the parking lot, Marliss Shackleford’s RAV4 was driving in. Fortunately for Joanna, Marliss was now Tom Hadlock’s problem. Too bad for him.

Motoring up and over the Divide, Joanna was lost in thought. Armando might have been exonerated, but Leon Hogan was still dead and his children were still in the custody of their remaining parent, who had possibly not only drugged their father but also intended to kill him.

What was Joanna’s responsibility here? For one thing, Madison had the presumption of innocence. For another, Joanna understood that standard Child Protective Services protocols attempted to keep families together at all costs. But was this a family that should be kept together? Obviously, Leon himself hadn’t thought so. That’s why he’d been consulting with a divorce attorney—a divorce attorney who lived in Tucson. And not just any attorney—an attorney who happened to be Leon’s father’s childhood pal. Lyndell Hogan had been paying the attorney’s fees on his son’s behalf. That being the case, maybe the attorney would be willing to discuss what had really been going on.

Before Lyn Hogan had left Joanna’s office the previous day, he’d given her his cell number in case she needed to be in touch. She’d added it to her contacts list as a matter of habit.

“Siri,” she said aloud, getting the AI’s attention. “Call Lyndell Hogan.”

“Lyn Hogan speaking,” he answered after picking up.

Joanna took a deep breath. Since the case surrounding the shooting was no longer active, neither was the prohibition against her discussing it. With that in mind, she wasn’t going to pull any punches.

“It’s Sheriff Brady,” she told him. “There have been some new developments overnight. Lab results indicate that someone administered scopolamine to your son shortly before the shooting.”

“Sco-what?” he asked, sounding genuinely puzzled.

“Scopolamine,” Joanna answered. “On the street it’s known as a date-rape drug and is sometimes referred to as ‘devil’s breath.’ It’s a tasteless clear liquid. Once dropped into someone’s drink—that would be coffee in Leon’s case—it’s undetectable. Often victims become confused or even pass out cold. When the drug wears off, they usually have little or no memory of what happened either immediately before or after ingesting the drug.”

“In other words, when my son came out of the house with that gun in his hand, he wasn’t in his right mind and had no idea what he was doing.”

“Correct,” Joanna replied. “I’m surprised he could stand on his own, much less shoot. He would have been completely out of control. Earlier today the Department of Public Safety submitted their findings about the incident to the county attorney. Arlee Jones has now ruled your son’s death to be justifiable homicide.”

“But it happened because he was drugged,” Lyn said.

“Yes.”

“Who gave the stuff to him, Madison?”

“That’s how it looks.”

“Why?”

“We believe she was after the hundred thousand dollars’ worth of group life insurance that Leon had at work. Unfortunately for her, shortly before this happened, Leon changed his beneficiary designation. As things now stand, all proceeds will be held in trust for the kids. She won’t be getting a dime.”

“Thank God for small blessings,” Lyn murmured. “Are you going to arrest her and charge her?”

“Probably not,” Joanna replied. “The presence of scopolamine is real enough, but the rest of it—the idea that she went to Whetstone possibly with the intention of killing him—is all speculation on our part. Without a full confession, I don’t think there’s a chance that we’d be able to get a jury to convict her. It would be so much wasted effort. My main concern right now is with the kids.”

“Mine, too,” Hogan said. “Izzy and I tried stopping by the house last night. Madison’s mom came to the door, but Madison refused to let us in or even see us.”

“And didn’t let you see the kids either.”

“They were probably in bed. We didn’t even ask, but the idea of them being left with her . . .”

“That’s why I’m calling you, Mr. Hogan,” Joanna said. “Some items have come to light that make me wonder if leaving the two children in their mother’s care is in their best interests.”

“What kinds of things?”

Joanna recounted what Deb had learned in the previous day’s interviews—that Kendall had been reluctant to go home, that there seemed to be a steady stream of late-night partying going on at Madison’s residence, that Kendall was being bullied at school for being dirty and because her clothing wasn’t clean, that she’d been caught rescuing food from the trash cans in the cafeteria. Somehow Joanna left out the part about Kendall and Peter being locked in the bedroom at the time Leon Hogan was gunned down.

“What can I do?” Lyn asked when Joanna finished her recitation.

“I’d like to speak to your son’s divorce attorney,” Joanna said.

“Jorge,” Hogan said. “Jorge Moreno.”

“He’s a friend of yours, right?”

“Correct.”

“And in a way Jorge was representing your interests as well as your son’s. I don’t know if that connection is enough to release him from his attorney-client privilege, but if he knows that the kids are being mistreated in some fashion and can talk to me about it, there might be a chance for us to help them.”