"Wally?"

"Wally Hickman," Katherine O'Brien said. "Years ago, before Wally went into politics, he and my husband were business partners."

Joanna took a deep breath. "You mean Governor Hickman," she asked.

Katherine O'Brien nodded. "You know him., don't you?"

"Not personally."

"Well, I do, and so does David. Wally and his wife, Abby, are good friends of ours."

Sheriff Joanna Brady suddenly had visions of this tragic but seemingly obscure little incident in the Peloncillos taking on statewide proportions. I'll have to get hold of Frank Montoya and bring him up to speed, she told herself in a mental note. Montoya, her chief deputy for administration, also doubled as her department's public information officer. Not if but when the case turned into yet another media hot potato, Frank would be the one who had to handle it.

Joanna decided to back away from the kidnapping line of inquiry. "You said a moment ago that your husband can be unreasonable at times. If you'll pardon my saying so, I did happen to notice some evidence of that yesterday when Detective Carpenter and I were at the house talking to you."

"So?" Katherine asked defensively. "There are lots of unreasonable people in the world. If you think of all that's happened to David over the years, I believe he has more grounds than most for being difficult."

"He made that quite clear himself," Joanna said. "But considering his attitude toward Hispanics, what do you think he would have done had he known his daughter was secretly involved with someone like Ignacio Ybarra?"

"What any right-thinking parent of a rebellious teenager would have done, Sheriff Brady. He would have grounded her for the rest of her life."

Before Joanna could think of another question, George Winfield appeared in the doorway. "Mrs. O'Brien?" he said. "You can come in now."

Taking Katherine by the arm, he led the two women into a spotless lab. "I must apologize for having to show you your daughter in her current condition, but ..."

Katherine swallowed hard. "That's all right," she said. "I understand."

Having been away from the awful smell of decaying flesh long enough to clear her nostrils and lungs, Joanna once again had to fight to keep from gagging. The basket was gone. The hotly bag lay on a gurney. The bag was unzipped only far enough to allow an unobstructed view of the terribly mangled face.

Katherine walked forward far enough to glimpse it, then she stopped. Sagging against Doc Winfield, she nodded. "It's her," she whispered.

"You're sure?"

"Yes. I recognize the birthmark on her neck."

"Very well." Winfield went to the head of the table and covered the bag with a clean white sheet. "Wait," Katherine said. "What about her jewelry? Along with the truck, her fa-Ihn'r gave her a diamond ring for her eighteenth birthday. I'm mire he'll want to have that back, and her class ring as well."

Winfield pulled out a form and consulted it. "I've inventoried both of those items on the personal effects form," he said. "Along with her purse, wallet, watch, and the earring as well, hill for the time being, I'll have to hold on to all of them. The watch we'll most likely have to keep indefinitely."

"Why's that?"

"It might prove helpful in setting the time of death. Everything else you'll get back, of course, once the investigation is complete, but-"

"What kind of earring?" Katherine interrupted.

"It's a single pearl," Winfield answered. "Looks to be of pretty good quality. The other one must have fallen off somewhere. The only reason this one wasn't lost as well was that the post was smashed flat."

"I don't want it," Katherine said at once. "The earring or the watch. Just give me the two rings. Those are all I care about."

"But, Mrs. O'Brien-"

"The watch is a cheap Timex. It's of no consequence whatever. The earring is different. Brianna had her ears pierced just a few weeks before school was out," Katherine said. "It caused a good deal of heartache in our home because her father disapproves of pierced ears. On anyone, but most especially on his daughter. He forbade her to wear the earrings in the house. In fact, he gave her strict orders to get rid of them. It would hurt him terribly to learn that she had disobeyed him. His heart will be broken as it is."

"You don't understand, Mrs. O'Brien," Winfield interjected. "once personal effects are no longer required for evidentiary reasons, I'm required to turn them over to victims' families. If I were to keep any items that had appeared on inventory sheets, I would be in clear violation. If it was reported, I'd be out of a job."

"Very well," Katherine said. "If that's the case, when the time comes, I'll make sure I'm the one who collects Bree's things. That way I can take care of it myself. You won't have to have anything at all to do with it." She backed toward the door. "Is that all? Can I go now?"

"Yes," George said. ''Thank you so much for your help. Please accept my condolences and extend them to your husband as well."

Katherine nodded. "Thank you," she said. "I will."

Joanna followed Katherine from the lab as far as the outside door. "Mrs. O'Brien?"

"Yes." Katherine O'Brien stopped with her hand on the doorknob. "You'll have to forgive me, Sheriff Brady," she said. "I can't answer any more questions, not right now. Since it's confirmed, I must go home and tell my husband."

"Yes," Joanna said. "I understand. Later on this evening, when Detective Carpenter gets back to town, he and I may need to come back out to the house to see you and Mr. O'Brien."

"'That'll be fine," Katherine said. "We'll be home."

She left then. Joanna turned back to the lab. Inside, the discarded bag lay on the floor and George Winfield was in the process of draping a sheet over the naked body. He looked up at Joanna. "Is there something else?" he asked.

"What do you think about her?" Joanna asked, nodding toward the door.

"You mean about Katherine O'Brien?"

Joanna nodded. "She may have been a nurse once, but how could she be so cool, so calculating?"

"Shock affects different people different ways," George replied. "Some people collapse in hysterics. For others, it's just the opposite."

"Oh," Joanna said. Instead of leaving, though, she stood there lost in thought, considering the many mystifying faces of Katherine O'Brien. Was her surprising reaction to her daughter's death shock, as George suggested, or was it something else entirely?

"Is that all?" George asked at last as if impatient to be rid of Joanna so he could go on with his work.

The question startled Joanna out of her contemplation and back into the present. "When you do the autopsy, be sure you check to see whether or not Brianna was raped."

Winfield nodded. "That's all part of the autopsy protocol-looking for semen, hairs, and other evidence of rape." The coroner paused. "You think she might have been?" he asked. "Of course, given the fact she was naked, it's certainly possible."

Joanna nodded.

"And if she was," George added wearily, "I suppose her father won't want to know about that any more than he would about the earring."

"You're right," Joanna said, closing the door behind her and leaving George Winfield to deal with his grisly tasks. "I don't suppose he would."

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

Joanna left the coroner's office at five. The rain had finally let up by then, but when she got to High Lonesome Ranch, the creek beds were still running too deep for her to risk crossing them even with four-wheel drive. Instead, famished now and feeling filthy as well, she headed back to town.