“Why did she back out?” Brian asked.

“It was their anniversary,” Mildred explained. “She and Jack met at the Queen of the Night party five years ago. According to Abby, Jack had come up with some out-of-this-world ‘big surprise’ for their celebration and Abby went along with it. Men are like that, you know,” she added. “When one of them comes up with some tomfool idea, it’s better not to make a fuss.”

“But Jack didn’t say anything to you about what he had in mind?”

“No. Not a word. All I know is it was supposed to be a big surprise. I think Abby thought he was taking her out for a nice dinner. I didn’t have the heart to tell her I had seen him loading all kinds of stuff in his car-a folding table, chairs, a picnic hamper, and a cooler. You don’t need a cooler to take someone out to a nice restaurant for dinner. If my husband had ever pulled a stunt like that, I don’t know what I would have done. When a woman goes to the trouble of having her hair and nails done, she doesn’t want to be dragged off to somebody’s godforsaken picnic.”

Brian had a pretty clear idea that an outdoor picnic wasn’t all Jack Tennant had had in mind. Before Law and Order arrived, Brian and Dan Pardee had followed the trail of footprints and the luminarias to that humongous night-blooming cereus. It occurred to Brian that Jack Tennant had gone to a lot of trouble to honor his anniversary by creating his very own Queen of the Night party. Brian was sure it had been a spectacular surprise, but that was before it turned into a massacre.

“Other than Jack Tennant loading stuff in the car, did you see anything else out of the ordinary?”

Using the arm of the sofa for support, Mildred Harrison hauled herself upright and then tottered over to a picture window that looked out on the street. In front of the window was an easy chair along with a small table. On it sat a pair of binoculars and a notebook.

She picked up the notebook, opened it, and brought it back to Brian, who had taken a seat on the couch.

“We had some break-ins around here a year or so ago and kids rummaging through mailboxes,” she explained. “So we started a neighborhood block watch program. I went out last night to the party at Tohono Chul, but most of the time I’m right here at home, so I volunteered to serve as block captain, and I do keep watch.”

Brian looked down at the open notebook, its lines covered in an old-fashioned spidery script. The writing was so shaky that it was almost illegible.

“Check out the last two pages,” Mildred advised. “The last entry is for yesterday, and the one before that is for the day before. See it there? I saw the same vehicle two days in a row-a light gray minivan with California plates-and I made a note of it each time.”

“Make and model?” Brian asked.

Mildred shook her head. “I have no idea. These days all those minivans look alike to me, but all the same, you can see I took down the plate information, just to be on the safe side. I did that because I hadn’t heard that anyone on the street was expecting company, not in the middle of the summer. Sure, out-of-towners come to visit in droves in January, February, and March, but most Californians have better sense than to show up in Tucson in June or July.”

“This may or may not be related,” Brian said, “but did you happen to get a glimpse of whoever was inside?”

“Both times I saw the vehicle, there was just one person in it-the driver.”

“Man or woman?”

“Definitely a man.”

“Race?” Brian asked.

“White, I’m sure. He was going bald, so probably middle-aged. He wore glasses-well, sunglasses, anyway.”

“Other than the minivan,” Brian said, “did you notice anything else out of the ordinary?”

“No,” Mildred said. “That’s about it. Unleashed dogs wandering around, garbage cans left out on the curb that should have been taken inside, and that sort of thing. Nothing else comes to mind.”

Brian stood up, took out a business card, and gave it to her. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to that next-of-kin situation, but thank you. You’ve been most helpful. If you think of anything else, though, don’t hesitate to call.”

Mildred studied his card. “You probably think I’m just a nosy old lady,” she said. “That’s what Carl would have said. He was my husband. He’s dead now, but he was always after me to mind my own business.”

Brian smiled at her. “I’m not sure how old you are,” he said, “and I’m not so sure about your being nosy, either, but believe me, in my business there are times when we need all the help we can get.”

Brian hurried out to his car. Despite what he’d told Mildred, he doubted anything would come of the license information. Just to be on the safe side, though, he pulled out his cell phone and asked Records to check it out.

Sells, Tohono O’odham Nation, Arizona

Sunday, June 7, 2009, 8:00 a.m.

69º Fahrenheit

Just before Lani got off shift at 8:00 A.M. on Sunday morning, she took a detour past Angie Enos’s room, popped in briefly, just long enough to say hello. Now that Angie had been moved out of the ER, another physician was in charge of her case. The little girl was sitting up in bed eating breakfast.

Angie looked up at Lani from her dish of Lucky Charms. “Are you a leopard?” she asked.

“A leopard?” Lani asked, glancing in Dan Pardee’s direction for help. He shrugged his own bafflement.

“What makes you think I’m a leopard?” Lani asked.

“Spots,” Angie said.

Lani held up her bare arm where dozens of tiny white blemishes dotted her skin. Lani was so accustomed to them that she no longer noticed them.

“Ants,” Lani said.

Angie’s eyes widened. “Kuadagi?” she asked.

Lani nodded. “When I was little-younger than you are-the people who were supposed to be watching me left me alone for too long. I got into an ant bed and the ants bit me,” she explained. “There were so many ant bites that I almost died. I had to go to a hospital just like this one.”

“My mommy doesn’t like me to get near ants,” Angie said. “She said they can be bad.”

“It’s true,” Lani said.

She noticed that Angie still referred to her mother in the present tense. The reality of her loss had yet to sink into Angie’s little brain.

“You’re not giving Mr. Pardee or Bozo any trouble, are you?” Lani asked.

Angie looked at the Shadow Wolf in his now somewhat bedraggled Border Patrol uniform. He looked tired. A dark five o’clock shadow bristled on his cheeks, but Angie gave him a sweet smile. “Even though he’s a grown-up, he says I can call him Dan.”

“I’d take him at his word then,” Lani said. “Come to think of it, maybe I’ll call him Dan, too. But I’m going off shift now, so I probably won’t see you again.”

“Okay,” Angie said with a shy wave.

Lani went outside. An irate charge nurse was waiting for her at the end of the hall. “What’s a dog doing in that room?” she demanded. “We have no business-”

“It is our business,” Lani interrupted. “That poor little girl’s mother was murdered last night. The dog is helping take her mind off her troubles, and believe me, that’s exactly what she needs.”

“When she goes, the dog goes,” the nurse declared.

“I’m sure,” Lani agreed.

“When will she be released?”

Lani glanced at her watch. She had more than half expected that Angie’s family would have arrived overnight to check on her. She was a little surprised that they had yet to put in an appearance, but she was sure they’d be there soon.

“My understanding is that someone is supposed to come pick her up this morning,” Lani said. “One of her relatives. Next-of-kin notifications were being done last night.”

The charge nurse picked up Angie’s chart. “Do we know who’ll be picking her up?” she asked.

“My guess would be the grandparents,” Lani said. “You’ll need to sort that out with her attending. I’m off.”