“I was gonna to leave oncet, but he didn’t want me to,” Hannah recalled. “Mama was real sick, you see. Daddy needed someone to stay there and take care of her. He slammed my hand in the car door so as I couldn’t go.”
“When did that happen?”
Hannah shrugged. “A while back,” she said.
“How recently?”
“Not recent. It was after my husband divorced me and I came hone to Daddy and Mama’s place.”
“When?” Joanna urged, thinking as she asked the question that it Reed Carruthers had attacked his daughter, Hannah might be able to enter a plea of self-defense.
“Nineteen sixty-five or so, I guess,” Hannah Green answered after a period of frowning consideration. “That must been about when it was.”
“More than thirty years ago?”
Hannah shrugged. “That’s right. Like I said, it’s been while.”
Somewhere at the far end of the house, the dogs began barking. The chorus was stifled almost immediately. Daring to hope that help was at hand, Joanna carefully rinsed the potatoes, put them in the pressure cooker, added water and salt. As she placed the potatoes on the burner, someone began pounding on the seldom-used front door.
Concerned that any intrusion might upset the woman Joanna glanced at her warily. “Someone’s at the door, Joanna said.
The woman nodded but didn’t move.
“I’ll have to answer it.”
Hannah nodded. “You go ahead,” she said.
By the time Joanna had crossed the kitchen to the doorway into the dining room, Jenny had already opened to front door. Detective Ernie Carpenter burst into the living room, followed closely by Dick Voland.
“We’ve got the house surrounded,” Ernie barked. “Where is she?”
“In the kitchen,” Joanna said, motioning in that direction While Ernie pushed past her into the kitchen, Dick Voland slid to a stop beside Joanna.
“Are you and Jenny all right?”
“Yes,” Joanna said.
From out of nowhere, Jenny suddenly squeezed between them and grabbed Joanna around the waist. She clung there, saying nothing.
“Is she armed?” Dick asked.
“I don’t think so,” Joanna managed.
The flood of relief that washed over her then took her by surprise. One moment she was laughing. The next, laughter unaccountably changed to tears.
“Mommy, why are you crying?” Jenny asked, peering up into her face. “I called Mr. Voland. Isn’t that what you wanted me to do?”
That was the precise instant when Joanna’s knees buckled and would no longer support her weight. If Dick Voland hadn’t been right there to catch her, she might have fallen all the way to the floor. She was still sobbing as he took her gently by the shoulders and steered her to one of the dining room chairs.
“Shhhh now,” he said, awkwardly patting her shoulder. “It’s okay, Joanna. Everything’s under control.”
ELEVEN
The next half hour or so was a blur of frantic activity. The whole house buzzed with cops while Joanna fielded a concerned call from Marianne Maculyea, whom Jenny had also called, reassuring her that everything was fine, that help had arrived, and that Hannah Green was being taken into custody. When it was time for Ernie Carpenter to lead a handcuffed Hannah Green out to the waiting patrol car, they can through the living room, where Joanna and Jenny were sitting on the couch.
Hannah stopped in front of them. “Them dogs of yours is real nice,” she said to Jenny.
Jenny nodded. “Thank you,” she murmured.
Then Hannah looked at Joanna. For a few seconds the eyes met. There was such an air of hopelessness about her-such beaten-down defeat-that Joanna couldn’t help feeling sorry for the woman. Even at Joanna’s worst, in those bleak days right after Andy’s death, she hadn’t been nearly as lost as Hannah Green. One important difference was that Joanna Brady had been blessed with something to live for-she had Jenny. Hannah Green had nothing.
“Thanks for Iettin’ me get that load off my chest,” Hannah said. “Needed to tell somebody. Guess I been needin’ to for years.”
“You’re welcome,” Joanna said.
“Come on now,” Ernie Carpenter urged, taking Hannah by the elbow and propelling her forward. “We’ve got to get moving.”
Joanna walked them outside. When she came back into the house, she could smell something burning. Out in the kitchen, the pot with the potatoes in it had burned dry. “Damn!” she exclaimed, dashing for the kitchen. “There goes dinner.”
Dick Voland followed her into the kitchen and then stood leaning against the kitchen counter as she rinsed what was left of the scorched potatoes and rescued the pork chops from being burned to a crisp.
“This is a nice place you’ve got here,” Voland observed, looking around the efficient but spacious kitchen.
“Thank you,” Joanna said. “You’ve never been here before, have you?” Voland shook his head. “Well,” Joanna said, “I can’t take any credit for it. My in-laws are the ones who did the kitchen remodel.”
Voland nodded. “It is a long way out of town.”
Joanna stopped stirring the gravy and stared up at her chief deputy. She didn’t have to be psychic to know where he was going on this one. “It’s not that far,” she said.
“But what if Jenny hadn’t been smart enough to call me and let me know what was happening? What would you have done then?”
Joanna went back to the gravy. “I would have thought of something,” she said. “Actually, I don’t think we were ever in any real danger. It may have been scary at the time, but Hannah Green wasn’t armed. She didn’t try to do either Jenny or me any harm.”
“But she could have,” Voland countered. “And so could any other crazy who might choose to show up here.”
“What are you saying?”
Voland shrugged. “With a house like this, on some acre age with your own well, you could probably sell it in a minute. Maybe buy something in town. A place where Jenny could walk back and forth to school and where you wouldn’t be out here all by yourselves.”
Joanna and Dick Voland were so at odds most of the tiff that Joanna found it oddly touching for him to be concerned about her safety. The fact that he would actually come right out and say something about it was downright disconcerting.
Joanna shook her head. “I appreciate the suggestion Dick,” she said. “But the High Lonesome is Jenny’s and my home. It’s the one Andy and I planned and worked for together. I’m not letting someone scare me out of living here.”
“No,” Dick Voland said a moment later. “I suppose not.”
The afternoon had stretched so long after the luncheon that her trip out to the Rob Roy with her mother and mother-in-law seemed eons ago. Still, Dick Voland’s suggestion about Joanna’s selling the High Lonesome had reminded her something else, something Eleanor had said. Joanna knew that even raising the issue would put an end to this amicable but highly unlikely truce between Dick Voland and her. She decided to go ahead and risk it.
“Speaking of selling,” she said. “Did you know Terry Buckwalter is making arrangements to sell out Bucky’s practice?”
Voland looked surprised. “So soon’“ lie asked. “With a business like that, especially one with a professional
