Missing and Endangered (Joanna Brady #19)(94)
“His what?” Frank asked, sounding surprised.
“Ernie’s retirement party.”
“He’s retiring?”
“Yes, as of the first of the year,” Joanna answered. “There’s a party scheduled for the day after Christmas at the Rob Roy, and you’re invited.”
“What time?”
“I forget—five thirty, maybe? I’ll need to check with them. Come to think of it, I need to invite Dick Voland, too. I’ll have Kristin send out official invites, but pencil it in.”
“I will,” Frank said, “but be advised. I’m penciling in a recap on that FBI takedown at the same time.”
Now that Joanna had determined she was going to the hotel to meet up with Jackie Puckett and the kids, she spent the remainder of the drive trying to put together what she would say to the children. No doubt by now someone else would have broken the terrible news to them, and she tried to see things through Kendall’s and Peter’s points of view. Yes, Madison Hogan had been a poor excuse for a mother, but she’d been their mother—the only one they’d ever known. Joanna’s challenging situation with her own mother had been dicey at times, but once Eleanor Lathrop Winfield was gone for good . . . ? The grief Joanna felt afterward had been stunning.
Once in the Windemere’s parking lot, Joanna stopped for a moment and drew a deep breath before heading for the hotel entrance. Inside, she swept the room with her eyes before approaching the front desk. Halfway there she caught sight of Peter Hogan, marching across the lobby toward the northwest corner of the building with an enormous dog, none other than Coon himself, walking sedately on a leash beside him.
She was both surprised and gratified to see Coon there. Beyond the boy and dog, in the far corner of the room, Joanna spotted the other members of the family—Izzy and Lyndell Hogan, Jackie Puckett, and Kendall. The little girl, decked out in a funeral-appropriate dark blue dress, was cuddled on a sofa next to Grandma Puckett.
The boy and dog walked over to the seating area. When Peter ordered Coon to lie down, the dog did so immediately, flopping onto the cool granite tile. Peter joined him, resting his head on the dog’s rib cage. That was when Lyn caught sight of Joanna. He rose and came forward to meet her with Kendall on his heels.
“You heard?” he asked.
Joanna nodded. “I’m so very sorry about your mother,” she said, addressing Kendall directly.
“She’s dead,” Kendall replied quietly, “just like Daddy. Grandma Puckett says she’s in heaven.”
“But she’ll be back,” Peter piped up confidently from his place on the floor. “Coon was dead, too, but now he’s back.”
And that was the second time one of the two Hogan kids broke Joanna Brady’s heart.
She remained in the hotel lobby for the better part of an hour, a tough hour but also an inspirational one. She said very little about the double homicide. For one thing, it was an active investigation. For another, with the kids right there, any discussion of the gruesome way in which Madison Hogan and Randy Williams had perished was out of the question. There was only the merest mention of funeral arrangements. The service for Leon Hogan had indeed been postponed for the time being. As far as final arrangements for Madison? Those were too far down the road to even consider.
So rather than spending time on those tough topics, Joanna had the honor of being privy to an inspiring collaboration among three loving grandparents—one a blood relation and the other two not—trying to chart a path forward for two orphaned children, one that would keep them from being caught up in the state-run foster-care program.
Living with Jackie Puckett in her retirement community was out of the question, but months earlier one of Lyndell and Izzy’s near neighbors had made a tentative offer to purchase their ranch. At the time they turned the proposal down cold, but as far as Lyn knew, it was still on the table. He allowed as how maybe it was time for them to sell out and retire to warmer climes.
“Compared to winter in Wyoming, Christmas in December in Arizona feels more like summer to us,” he said. “And if we could buy or rent the right place, maybe the kids could stay on at the same school.” He paused and looked at Kendall. “Would you like that?” he asked. “Would you like living with Izzy and me and going to the same school?”
She nodded with no hesitation. “I like my teacher,” she said. “Her name is Mrs. Baird. She brought us macaroni and cheese.”
“If we live with you, can we have a Christmas tree?” Peter asked from the floor. It might not have looked as though he was listening, but clearly he was. “Mrs. Walkup has her tree up already, and I want ours up, too.”
“I don’t know about a Christmas tree,” Izzy put in. “We’ll have to see what we can do.”
“But of course,” Lyn said, looking at Joanna, “this is all dependent on whether or not the state will grant us custody. What do you think they’ll do on that score?”
For an answer Joanna opened her phone, located a name in her contacts list, and then texted it to Lyndell’s phone.
“I just sent you contact information for a guy named Burton Kimball,” she said. “I know you have Jorge in your corner, but Burton is local, and he’s been our family attorney for years. This might require formal adoption proceedings rather than simple custody arrangements, but if anybody can make that happen, he’s the guy.”