driving home from work, that is.”
With a dozen top-rated restaurants within walking distance of Belltown Terrace, there wasn’t much need to drive all the way to Bellevue for dinner, but Naomi had made it clear that this time she was paying. “I don’t mind at all,” I told her.
“All right,” she said. “I just wanted to confirm. Will I see you tonight?”
“Probably,” I said. “I’ll give you a call this afternoon.”
I looked up to see Barbara Galvin standing in my doorway and giving me a knowing smile. Why wouldn’t she? It’s no coincidence that the newest kid on the block – me – has the cubicle closest to Barbara’s desk.
“Gotta go,” I said hurriedly to Naomi. “Somebody’s waiting.”
“You didn’t have to hang up on her like that,” Barbara told me. “I would have waited.”
She had been listening. My ears turned red. “We were done anyway,” I said. “What’s up?”
Barbara tossed an envelope onto my desk. “Your travel packet, complete with itinerary,” she said. “You’re booked on Alaska Flight 790. It leaves for Tucson tomorrow morning at seven A.M.”
“Seven A.M.!” I groaned. “Are you kidding? Why so early?”
Barbara grinned. “What’s the matter, Beau?” she asked. “Got a hot date? You’re on that flight because, even though it’s the last minute, the travel agent was able to get us a good deal. She has you scheduled to return next Friday afternoon, but you can always extend if you need to.”
Assuming the conversation had ended, I opened the envelope and glanced at the E-ticket itinerary. When I glanced back up, Barbara was still standing in my doorway looking at me with a strange, faraway look on her face.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Nothing,” she said with a shrug. “I was just thinking about how much you remind me of my dad.”
Words every older guy loves to hear! No longer a hunk, you’re someone’s dad instead.
With that she was gone.
I picked up the phone and called Naomi right back. “Where were you planning on taking me to dinner tomorrow night?” I asked.
“Why? It’s supposed to be a surprise.”
“It’s a surprise, all right. I just found out I have to be on a plane to Tucson at seven o’clock tomorrow morning.”
“Work or pleasure?” Naomi asked.
“What do you think?”
“Bis,” she said. “Bis on Main is the name of the restaurant.”
“What do you say we go tonight instead? I’ll pay.”
“I suppose,” she agreed, although I could tell she wasn’t happy about it. “If you can get a reservation, that is. It’s a pretty popular place.”
I looked up the number in the phone book, called, and gave whoever answered my tale of woe. “For you, my friend, I believe we can do something,” he said. “We’re very busy this evening, but if you could come in early, say five-thirty…”
“Done,” I told him. “It might just as well be early. I have to be up at the crack of dawn tomorrow morning to catch a plane.”
I put down the phone. Part of me was sorry to disappoint Naomi. And part of me was pissed at the people in the AG’s office for dropping this on me at the last minute. But there was a third part of me – the stubborn old-coot part – that was more than happy to get off his butt, put the cold-case files back where they belonged, and go to work.
Seven
FOR THE SECOND TIME IN AS MANY DAYS, Joanna and Frank Montoya’s “early-morning” briefing took place in the early afternoon. Afterward, Joanna started in on that day’s worth of correspondence. Almost an hour later and near the bottom of the stack, she discovered the latest edition of
Joanna opened the paper and turned to what she knew would be Marliss Shackleford’s latest column. The headline read:
CAN COCHISE COUNTY AFFORD A
SOFT-HEARTED SHERIFF?
There can be no question that Wednesday’s Fallen Officer memorial in honor of Cochise County Corrections Officer Yolanda Canedo was moving and inspirational, but here’s the question many county residents are asking themselves: Should a dirty dozen of Cochise County inmates have been in attendance with what amounted to minimal sheriff’s department supervision?
There can also be no question that, as a corrections officer, Yolanda Canedo made a difference in the less- than-exemplary lives of some of those unfortunate inmates. Ms. Canedo used her off-duty hours to work as an unpaid volunteer with an inmate literacy project. She personally tutored a number of inmates who were working toward GED certificates while being incarcerated.
But the fact remains that these men are prisoners. They’re in the county lockup for reasons that either a judge or a jury could not ignore or excuse. Why, then, were they allowed to attend Ms. Canedo’s funeral services without any evidence of restraints and with only two off-duty guards and the director of the Cochise County Jail Ministry looking after them?
Not that they did anything bad. From what I could learn, the inmates caused no difficulty. They behaved themselves during the funeral service and afterward were all returned to their cells at the Cochise County Jail without incident. But some people, including yours truly, think that letting those prisoners out at all was a mistake and that having done so sets a bad precedent.
Unnamed sources within the department suggest that Sheriff Joanna Brady herself is the one who made the decision to allow prisoners to attend the service. And why would she do such a thing? Was it a grandstanding effort on her part to let people see that her department is interested in rehabilitating county prisoners, as opposed to locking them up and throwing away the key? Or was it something else entirely?
Since her election, Sheriff Brady has gone to great lengths to prove she’s just as tough and hard-nosed as anybody else. But now, with the beginning of what promises to be a hotly contested reelection campaign only months away, I think it’s possible she wanted to show potential voters her softer, gentler side.
The problem is, if one of those inmates had decided to take off for parts unknown, any number of people could have been hurt, endangered, or even killed in the process. That’s a kind of soft-hearted, soft-headed approach to law enforcement that the people of Cochise County don’t deserve and can ill afford.
Finished reading, Joanna wadded up the paper and tossed it into the trash. For a while she tried to return to her paperwork, but it was no use. Distracted and unable to concentrate, she touched the intercom button.
“I’m going home early,” she said to Kristin. “If anybody needs me, have them call me there.”
“Are you okay?” Kristin asked. “I mean, it’s only three o’clock. You’re not sick or anything, are you?”
“Lots of people go home at three o’clock,” she said. “And today that’s me. I’ve done all I can do, unless there’s an emergency, that is.”
She left her office via the private door. Once back home at High Lonesome Ranch, she changed into a T-shirt, jeans, and boots. Then she hurried out to the barn, where she started mucking out the stall where Jenny kept her sorrel quarter-horse gelding, Kiddo. It was hot, dirty, smelly work – just the thing to take Joanna’s mind off Marliss
