"Saturday," Dr. Lee said. "Saturday night. He came to the emergency room."

"You treated him then?"

"Yes."

"Is there a possibility that Ignacio's injuries had been received the night before?"

"You mean on Friday instead of Saturday? Absolutely not!" Dr. Lee exclaimed. "He was bleeding. Dirt was still in the wounds."

"'Thank you, Dr. Lee," Joanna breathed. "That's all I need to know."

"But you must tell me," Dr. Lee objected. "Why are you asking such questions? Has something happened to Nacio? Is there anything I can do to help?"

"You already have," Joanna told him. "I thought Ignacio was telling me the truth. Now I know for sure."

Putting down the phone, she went back into her office. Ignacio Ybarra was still sitting in the same place with his head lowered, his shoulders bent. Sorrow exuded from every pore.

Moving with a confidence she hadn't felt before, Joanna re-hinted to her desk. Ignacio looked up as she came by. Joanna mat down and met his questioning gaze.

"Nacio," she said kindly, "why didn't you tell us any of this last night?"

The young man ducked his head. "I don't know," he said. "I guess I was too scared. I didn't think anyone would believe me."

"So why are you here now?"

"I've thought about the pearl for two nights now. I want it back, Sheriff Brady. I gave it to Bree because I loved her, and I want it back for the same reason. It's all I'm ever going to have to remember her by." He broke off, burying his grief-contorted face in his hands.

Joanna waited several moments while the young man sat there sobbing. "You must have loved her very much," she said at last.

Ignacio nodded, but it took several seconds longer before he was under control enough to speak. "Bree and I thought that someday we'd be able to be together. We were going off to school in September. With us in Tucson and with both our families here, how much could they have done to stop us?"

Plenty, Joanna thought, thinking about how much grinding criticism her disapproving mother had heaped on Joanna's and Andy's marriage over the years. For good or ill, Ignacio Ybarra was never going to have to face those kinds of issues with David and Katherine O'Brien.

"You lost the pearl during the beating, then?" she asked. "Is that what you're telling me?"

"Yes," Ignacio murmured. "I'm sure that's when it fell out of my shirt pocket. It's bound to be there, right across the road from the gate. I'm sure I can find it again, but if I go back on my own to look for it, he'll send somebody after me again. That's why I carne here this morning, Sheriff Brady. To ask for help. If I go there with a deputy, no one will bother me."

"Do you want to file charges against him?" Joanna asked.

"Against the man who beat me up?"

"Yes."

Ignacio seemed to consider the possibility. "I hadn't thought that far ahead," he admitted. "I just wanted the pearl back, that's all."

"If you have broken ribs, we're talking about a serious assault here," she told him. "Whoever did this to you shouldn't hr allowed to get away with it."

"But I barely saw him," Ignacio objected. "It was dark. I may not be able to identify him."

"Don't worry about it," Joanna said grimly. "I have a pretty good idea of who he is."

Before Joanna had a chance to turn back to Ignacio, there was an impatient knock at the door. "Come in," she called.

The door burst open and Detective Carpenter strode into the room. "What exactly is going on here?" he demanded, glowering first at Joanna and then at Ignacio. "I thought I was the Detective on-"

"Good morning, Ernie," Joanna interrupted. "I'm so glad you could join us. I need you and/or Detective Carbajal to take Mr. Ybarra's statement. I believe Nacio has been the victim of serious assault at the hands of one of David O'Brien's employees. Afterward, you'll need to search the area opposite the outside gate to Green Brush Ranch to see if you can find Brianna O'Brien's missing pearl earring, which was lost in the course of that attack. I'm sure Mr. Ybarra will be able to show you where it happened. I'm waiting for some information from Yuma County. If what I suspect pans out, sometime early this afternoon you and I should pay a visit to Green Brush Ranch."

Ernie started to object, but something in the authoritative way Joanna had spoken stopped him cold.

"Jaime Carbajal is up at the courthouse trying to obtain a search warrant," Joanna continued. "Call him off that and have him go with you. Now, get going."

Without another word, Ernie turned on his heel and started for the door. Once there, he turned and looked back into the room. "Coming, Mr. Ybarra?" he asked.

Slowly, Ignacio Ybarra rose to his feet. He stepped toward Joanna's desk, holding out his hand. "Thanks," he said quietly, as they shook hands. "Thank you for believing me. I think what Mr. Kimball said about you was right."

"Why?" Joanna asked. "What did he say?"

"He said that he'd met a lot of sheriffs in his time but that you were the only one who knew how to listen with your heart as well as your ears."

"Thank you," Joanna said.

May it always be so.

CHAPTER TWENTY.

An hour later, while Joanna was busy reading Frank Montoya's computerized printout on the police brutality case in Yuma, Kristin called in on the intercom to announce that Dr. Winfield was on the phone.

The prospect of talking to the coroner threw Joanna off center. Officially, Doc Winfield was the coroner, but he was also Joanna's new stepfather. Picking up the handset, she wasn't mire how to speak to him on the phone. Winfield settled the whole issue by handling the entire transaction on a strictly professional basis.

"I still have some toxicology tests to do, and those take time-weeks even," he told her. "But the preliminary results are these. The victim was struck on the head, repeatedly. The weapon was a heavy blunt object of some kind, but what actually killed her was drowning."

"Drowning?" Joanna asked.

"In her own blood. Her rib cage was completely crushed. Both lungs filled with blood. That's what killed her."

Joanna shivered. Drowning in your own blood seemed like an appalling way to die. She forced herself to sound dispassionate. "Any signs of defensive wounds?" she asked.

"None," George Winfield returned. "It looks to me as though she was naked when the attack came and as though her assailant came at her from behind. There are contusions and abrasions that look as though they happened prior to death."

"Like she was running, maybe?" Joanna asked. "As though she was trying to get away?"

"Maybe."

Joanna didn't want to ask the next question, but she had to. "Was she sexually assaulted?"

"No," George Winfield answered. "Given the circumstances of a naked victim, that's something I would have suspected. But there's no sign of sexual violation at all."