Dead to Rights

was carrying a plateful of food and looking somewhat restored. She smiled tentatively when she saw Joanna.

“‘Thank you for your help, Sheriff Brady,” she said. “I did lust what you said. I asked Dan Storey to represent me--ml and the baby.”

Joanna nodded. “I heard about the court order, so I knew you must have found someone.”

“That’s not all, either,” Bebe added. “I talked to Reggie Wade a little while ago. Did you know he’s taking over Bucky’s practice?”

“Yes,” Joanna said. “So I heard.”

“Well,” Bebe went on, “he told me that when the deal goes through, I’ll be able to stay on with him. He says it’ll be a big help to him if he has someone here in town who already knows Bucky’s clients. Since Terry won’t be working there anymore, I’ll have a full-time job instead of a part-time one. He may even let me stay in the house for a while. That way, he’ll have someone to look after things. So we’ll be all right, the baby and I, right?”

Joanna had terrible misgivings about what it would be like for Bebe Noonan as a single parent in a small town- particularly an unwed single parent. Joanna had the financial security of some insurance, a reasonably well-paying job, and loving grandparents and friends to backstop her when it came to emergency child care. Bebe Noonan and her baby would have none of those. Bebe seemed to have only the barest grasp of the difficulties ahead. Still, her question pleaded for a simple affirmative answer. Joanna gave her what she wanted.

“Yes, Bebe,” Joanna said. “I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

“Why, Joanna,” Marliss Shackleford said, horning her way into the conversation in her customarily pushy fashion. Faced with the columnist’s arrival, Bebe Noonan paled and melted into the crowd.

Usually, Joanna would have dreaded running into the re-porter in a social selling. Today was different. “We missed you at the luncheon the other day,” Joanna said sweetly. “I hope you’re feeling better.”

Marliss must have had something in mind as she approached Joanna and Bebe Noonan. Now, whatever it was_, seemed to disappear in unaccustomed confusion.

“Oh, yes,” she stammered uncomfortably. “I was sorry to miss it. I had a little touch of the flu, but I’m fine now.”

“Good,” Joanna said. “And have you heard Jeff and Marianne^’s good news?”

“What good news?” Marliss asked.

“Marianne left for San Francisco bright and early this morning. She’s going there to meet Jeff and the baby and bring them home.”

“Is that right?” Marliss Shackleford’s disinterest was unmistakable. She may have been in the news business, but good news wasn’t necessarily her bag.

“I’m planning a shower for them as soon as they get home,” Joanna continued cheerfully. “Probably sometime it the next week or so. I’ll let you know as soon as I decide when it’ll be. Maybe you can put a little announcement about it in your column.”

“Oh, no,” Marliss objected at once. “I couldn’t possibly do that.”

“You couldn’t?” Joanna asked. “Why not?”

“Marianne Maculyea is a personal friend of mine. I could never use my column in that way. Making a personal plea like that would be a violation of journalistic ethics-a conflict of interest. It just wouldn’t do at all. Now, if you’ll excuse me…^”

Joanne felt a certain amount of satisfaction as Marliss Shackleford slipped away from her. Going on the attack was a good way of dealing with some people.

“What was that all about?” Eleanor asked, appearing at Joanna’s elbow.

Eleanor Lathrop and Marliss Shackleford were part of the same bridge group and had been known to be thick as thieves on occasion. Here was a golden opportunity to drive a wedge between them. In the end, whether the devil made her do it or not, the temptation was too much for Joanna to resist.

“Actually, Mother,” she said confidentially, “Marliss was asking me about you.”

Eleanor Lathrop’s eyes widened. “About me? Really? Whatever for?”

Keeping her face straight, Joanna leaned closer to Eleanor. “She told me she’s heard some rumors about you. I told her she must be mistaken.”

“What kind of rumors?” Eleanor asked.

“About you and George Winfield. She said she’d heard that you and the coroner were planning on taking a short jaunt up to Vegas. I told her that was the most ridiculous thing I’d ever heard.”

For the first time in Joanna’s memory, an aghast Eleanor Lathrop was shocked into absolute silence.

“It is ridiculous, isn’t it?” Joanna pressed.

Nodding numbly, Eleanor finally regained the power of speech. “Of course it is,” she agreed. “Where do rumors like this start?”

“I can’t imagine,” Joanna said.

Across the room, she caught sight of Larry Matkin standing near the door. Their eyes met briefly, but then he looked away. His message had said he wanted to talk to her. Thinking now would be a good time. Joanna started moving in that direction. Several people stopped her along the way. By the time she reached the door, he was gone. She even walked out into the parking lot to try to catch him, but he was nowhere in sight.

Oh, well, she told herself. I’ll call him as soon as I get back to the office. In the meantime, she turned back into the parish hall. By then, the serving line at the buffet had almost disappeared. Taking a plate from the stack, Joanna went to get some food.

Once the luncheon was over, Joanna returned to work with a renewed sense of purpose. She was relieved to find that things seemed to be going fairly well, considering. According to Dick Voland, both of the two critically injured U.D.A.s had been upgraded, one to critical but stable and the other to serious. In addition, none of the hospitalized aliens whose guards had been pulled had made any effort to run away. Jaime Carbajal had spent most of the morning interviewing the jailed crash victims. So far, three of them had expressed a willingness to testify against the driver, as well as against the Mexican national from Agua Prieta whom they all identified as the mastermind behind a very profitable drug and wetback-smuggling operation.

“The Border Patrol is ecstatic to get the goods on this guy,^” Voland told her. “They’ve been trying to put him out of business for years. What I can’t understand is what’s keeping Ernie. He should have been here to oversee the questioning. He was going to the Buckwalter funeral this morning but I expected him back long before this.”

“I sent him home,” Joanna said. “And I’d send you home too, if I could. We’ve all been working too hard. When I saw Ernie at the funeral, I could tell he was right at the end of his rope.”

Voland’s eyes bulged. “With all the cases we’ve got hanging fire? How could you send him home? He’s the only detective we have left.”

“Why is that?” Joanna countered.

“Why?” Voland shrugged. “The two other guys put in their twenty years and bailed out.”

“I know that,” Joanna replied. “What I don’t understand is why Deputy Carbajal hasn’t been promoted to detective. Has he passed the written test?”

“Yes, but I was waiting for Ernie to tell me he was ready.”

“What were you really waiting for, Dick? For hell to freeze over? It just did. We’ve had five violent deaths in as many days, and we’ve only got one detective to cover too many bases. What’s wrong with this picture?”

“But Jaime’s not ready yet. He’s still too young.”

“No, he’s not,” Joanna stated. “From what you said, it sounds as though he’s doing fine with those guys over at the jail.”

“Yes, but-”

“But nothing, Mr. Voland. Do it.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Chief Deputy Voland replied. “I’ll get right on it.”

“And one more thing. Have you talked to Ruth since last night?”

Dick Voland flushed. “No.”

“Are you going to talk to her?”

“She threw me out,” Voland said. “What’s the point of talking? I’ve made some calls. I think I’ve lined up an apartment. I’m supposed to go look at it after work.”

With that, he turned and stomped out of her office. Joanna waited for several minutes after he had left before she picked up the phone and dialed Dick Voland’s home number. She had called it often enough in the past few