Skeleton Canyon

“Katherine’s gone,^” David O’Brien said.

“You mean she’s not here.”

“No, I mean she’s gone. Left me. She won’t be back.”

Joanna was stunned. “But where did she go?”

“Where she always goes,” David O’Brien returned. “To a Benedictine convent outside Socorro, New Mexico. Only this time, it’s for good. It’s a sequestered order, you see. Once she takes her vows, she’ll never return. It’s what she’s always wanted.”

“A convent!” Joanna exclaimed. “Your wife is going to become a nun? How can she?”

“Because we’re married, you mean? That won’t be a problem. It’ll take time and effort on her part, but I’m sure she’ll be able to get an annulment.”

“An annulment.” It dismayed Joanna to hear her voice echoing back David O’Brien’s words. She sounded stupid. “After this many years?” she asked.

“The number of years doesn’t make any difference,” he replied wearily. “Our daughter was a test-tube baby, Sheriff Brady. One of the early ones. If you’ll pardon my being blunt, after the accident I was never able to perform in that department. Since Katherine’s and my marriage was never officially consummated, then, it shouldn’t be terribly difficult for her to obtain a church-sanctioned annulment. That way she’ll be able to do what she’s always wanted to do-what she’s always done anyway. The only difference is, now she’ll be able to do it openly and without any interference.” He paused.

“And what would that be?” Joanna asked.

“Why she’ll be able to pray, of course,” David O’Brien answered at last. “She’ll pray without ceasing, for the sake of both of our immortal souls.”

The room fell totally silent. “She did do it, then?” Joanna breathed at last.

“Do what?”

“She killed Mr. Diaz?”

David O’Brien sighed. “Oh,” he said. “So you know about it, then. I should have realized. It was only a matter of time before someone here figured it out and brought it up again. I don’t believe Katherine killed Mr. Diaz on purpose, Sheriff Brady,” he added. “It was an accident. I believe the mixup with the medication really was a legitimate mistake on her part. She was devastated by the man’s death. The problem was, the hospital administrator didn’t approve of the fact that Katherine and I had become friends. The woman was a witch. She was out to get Katherine-to crucify her if need be. I simply couldn’t let that happen. She was a nice young woman-a nurse who someday hoped to join a convent. I turned my attorney loose on the mess. He was able to handle it-well enough, at least, that she didn’t go to prison.”

“You’re saying she was innocent, then?”

“I’m saying she may have been responsible, but that she wasn’t guilty. There’s a difference, you know. And after it was all over, we had grown close enough that I asked her if she’d be willing to help me try to start another family. She did. Not out of love, mind you. More out of misplaced gratitude. We were partners. We were together all this time, but it never quite worked. The family part. I see now that a lot of it was my fault. Bree and I were always at loggerheads-from the time she was tiny. She must have sensed my disappointment-must have known she could never be exactly what I wanted.”

“But she was a smart, bright, pretty girl,” Joanna found her-self saying. “What more could you have wanted?”

“I wanted my son back,” David O’Brien said sadly. “No matter how hard Bree tried, that was something she could never be. How stupid of me, Sheriff Brady. Why did my daughter have to die for me to figure it out?”

As the grieving father choked back a sob, Joanna closed her eyes. She remembered Katherine O’Brien’s anguish the first time she had seen her; how anxious she had been that Joanna or Ernie would give away the secret that Brianna was taking birth control pills. Joanna had seen how tightly strung Katherine O’Brien had been and had attributed it to a possible case of domestic violence. And maybe that wasn’t far from wrong. For almost twenty years, Katherine O’Brien had been the sole peacemaker, caught in the middle between her family’s two forever- warring factions-an angry, controlling father and his lovely, headstrong daughter.

After a long moment of silence, David O’Brien spoke again. “If you’re aware of the incident, you know that as a result of a negotiated deal, Katherine lost her license to practice nursing. I always thought of that as a victory, but now I tend to wonder if we wouldn’t all have been better off if Katherine had gone to prison instead. If she had, maybe she would have felt as though she had finally atoned for her sin and been able to let go of it. As it is,” he added sadly, “I doubt she ever will.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

As usual, Marliss Shackleford couldn’t keep from gushing. “It was such a beautiful wedding,” she said to Joanna. “And it was so touching the way you and your brother both were part of it. What a wonderful gift for you to give the bride and groom. I can hardly wait to write it up for my column.”

Joanna managed a tight smile. When she had offered High Lonesome Ranch as the site for Eleanor Lathrop’s and George Winfield’s second wedding ceremony and reception, she hadn’t anticipated that she and her brother, Bob Brundage, would be cast in the supporting roles of best man and matron of honor. So, after spending the morning serving as grand marshal of-and riding Jenny’s quarter horse, Kiddo, in-Bisbee’s Fourth of July parade, Joanna had spent the afternoon doing her daughterly duty.

And it had been fine. With Marianne Maculyea in charge and with the guests assembled in the afternoon shade of Jim Bob Brady’s hand-nurtured apple tree, it had been a nice ceremony. A meaningful ceremony. Reverend Maculyea had a knack for always taking familiar words and Scriptures and then somehow infusing and personalizing them in such a way and with such little extra fillips of sentiment that what might have been commonplace was transformed into something memorable and special.

Now, as dusk settled into evening, the party was winding down. The champagne toast had been drunk. Wedding cake had been cut and served. The bride and groom had gone home to what had once been Eleanor and D. H. Lathrop’s cozy little house on Campbell Avenue. There was still plenty of Jim Bob’s mouth-watering barbecue beef left despite the fact that every-one had eaten more than their fill. Some of the guests were in the process of taking their leave. They were driving back into town early in hopes of locating the perfect parking place from which to view the evening’s coming fireworks.

Just as Joanna was wondering how she would ever manage to escape Marliss Shackleford’s clutches, Jenny came to her rescue. “Can’t we go now, Mom?” Jenny insisted. “It’s almost dark. I don’t want to miss the fireworks.”

Joanna glanced at her watch and then back at Marliss. “Please excuse us,” Joanna said. “I’m due at the ballpark in an hour. On a night like this, parking will be a mess.^”

“I’m sure that’s true,” Marliss said. “You go ahead. I’ll be right behind you, but I do want to say a few words to that charming brother of yours before I go.”

Gratefully, Joanna reached down and took Jenny’s hand. “Where’s Butch?” she asked, as they started across the yard.

“He’s out back,” Jenny answered. “Throwing the Frisbee for Tigger.”

Walking through the remaining guests took time. Joanna had to stop here and there long enough to chat and say hello.

“Mom,” Jenny said, when they finally cut through the last of the crowd. “Did Marianne call Grandma an awful wife?” “Awful,” Joanna repeated, as if in a daze.

Suddenly she burst out laughing. “Oh, honey, that’s not what Marianne said. She said lawful, not awful,” she corrected a moment later, just as they came around the corner of the house.

Butch Dixon paused in the act of tossing the Frisbee. “All right, you two,” he said. “I heard you laughing. What’s so funny?”

“Jenny’s way of hearing what’s said isn’t always on the money. She spent years of her life thinking the Lord’s Prayer had something to do with leading a snot into temptation. Now she’s worried that Mother is George’s awful