hours straight now, beratin’ herself somethin’ fierce on account of no one ever listened to Hannah or done nothin’ about her. But it turns out now that somebody did listen, and we’re mighty grateful. Can’t none of us vote for you, on account of we’re up in Graham County instead of in Cochise. But we’ll all be prayin’ for you. Aunt Franny’s especially good at that.”

“Thank you, Joanna said. “And tell your Aunt Franny thank you as well. Any and all prayers are greatly appreciated. After all, they’re part of the glue that holds us all together.”

Isn’t that right, Jim Bob? Joanna thought as she watched Philip Dotson amble out of her office. Lunches and prayers, both.

Through the remainder of the afternoon she continued to wade through the paperwork jungle. She tried several times to reach Larry Matkin, but to no avail. He evidently hadn’t returned to his office after leaving the parish hall. The next time Joanna’s phone rang, the caller was Butch Dixon. “Are we all set for dinner?” he asked. “What time and where?”

“There’s a place called the Pizza Palace out in Don Luis. How about if we meet there around six?”

“Don Luis?” Butch repeated. “Where’s that? I thought we were having dinner here in town.”

Joanna laughed. “We are. Don Luis is part of town. It was incorporated into Bisbee in the fifties, along with Warren, Bakerville, and Lowell. The thing is, all those individual neighborhoods have retained their original names, even though they’re all a part of Bisbee proper.”

“The Pizza Palace,” Butch repeated.

“Do you need directions?”

“No, thanks. I’m sure someone here at the Grand Hotel will be able to tell me how to find it.”

Once Joanna was off the phone, she tried Larry Matkin’s number once again for good measure. Still there was no answer. About four, Kristin came in with a stack of typed letters for Joanna to sign. “By the way, Deputy Voland told me to tell you he was taking off early this afternoon.”

“Did he say when he’d be back?”

“I’m sure he’s gone for the day,” Kristin said, a trifle too quickly.

Joanna regarded Kristin Marsten with a penetrating look. “I’m sure he won’t be coming back to work,” Joanna said. “But did he say whether or not he was coming back to sleep?”

Kristin flushed to the roots of her light blond hair. “So you did know about that?” Joanna pressed. Kristin nodded.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

The young secretary shrugged. “I guess I was afraid he’d get in some kind of trouble.”

“Kristin,” Joanna said. “Police officers are a lot more likely to get into trouble if we don’t know what’s going on in their personal lives. As my secretary, you’re my eyes and ears around here. Your job is to let me know things that are going on that may have some bearing on the performance of any member of my department. Is that clear?”

“Yes,” Kristin replied. “I see.,

“Good.”

Kristin went out then. As Joanna sat putting her signature at the bottom of the typed letters, she thought about what she had just told Kristin. What she had said was true. But didn’t it go further than that, further than just needing to know what was going on? Now that she was aware of the situation in the Voland household, didn’t she have some responsibility to do something about it?

Closing up her desk, she took the signed letters out to Kristin to put in the mail. “I’m heading out early, too,” she said.

Except, instead of driving directly to Eva Lou and Jim Bob Brady’s to pick up Jenny, Joanna drove out to San Jose Estates. Ruth and Dick Voland lived in a four-bedroom stuccoed rambler with a magnificent view of the stately mountain peak several miles south of the border in Old Mexico from which the development took its name.

It was a long time after Joanna rang the bell before the mahogany door opened. Ruth was a heavyset, jowly woman in her early forties. Wearing sweats, she was panting, as though she’d been interrupted in the middle of a workout. Ruth paled as soon as she saw Joanna standing there. “It’s not Dick, is it?” she demanded. “Has something happened to him?”

“No,” Joanna said. “I came to talk to you.”

“Why?”

“You’re making a terrible mistake,” Joanna said. “Dick and I work together. That’s it. There is absolutely nothing going on between us.”

Ruth stood back and opened the door, gesturing Joanna into the house. She shrugged. “It doesn’t really matter if there is or it there isn’t,” she said.

“Of course it mailers,” Joanna returned. “He’s out right now, looking for an apartment. Catch him before he rents one. Have him come back home. You guys have two kids, don’t you?”

Ruth Voland nodded. “One in high school and the other in junior high.”

“Those kids need their father. Dick is my chief deputy, but when it comes to romance, you don’t have a thing to worry about.”

“I already told you,” Ruth asserted, “it is too late. I got sick and tired of listening to him talk about Joanna Brady this and Joanna Brady that twenty-four hours a day. I’ve found someone else. Kenneth is the coach of my son’s bowling team out in Sierra Vista. Ken’s already divorced, and I will be soon.”

Joanna was stunned. She had somehow thought all she’d have to do was walk up to the door, talk to Ruth Voland a few minutes, and the whole thing would be set to rights.

“You’re filing for a divorce?”

“Sure I am,” Ruth Voland replied. “Ken and I want to get married as soon as we can.”

“But Ruth,” Joanna argued. “You’ve already got a perfectly good husband.”

“If he’s so damned perfect, you have him then,” Ruth Voland said. “It was bad enough when he was married to the job. I could take that. I knew what to expect. But then, when you turned up, it was too much. I’m just a housewife, Sheriff Brady. I don’t know what you are, but to hear Dick tell it, you must be right up there with Wonder Woman. I can’t compete with that. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get hack to my Exercycle.”

Still in a daze, Joanna walked back to the Blazer, got in, and drove back k her in-law’s place in Warren. Jenny was at a friend’s house when Joanna got there, and that was just as well.

“What’s going on?” Eva Lou asked. “You look upset.”

“Ruth Voland has thrown Dick out of the house. She’s filing for a divorce. She thinks there’s something going on between us.”

“Between you and Dick Voland?”

“That’s right.”

“There isn’t anything, is there?” Eva Lou asked.

“Of course not!” Joanna replied indignantly. “We work together, and that’s it. I tried to explain that to Ruth. I’m certainly not interested in the man, but I don’t think she believed me.”

“Probably not,” Eva Lou answered. “You’ve got to look at it through her point of view.”

“Which is?”

“Other than being an Avon Lady for a little while a few years back, I don’t think Ruth Voland has ever worked out-side the home. All of a sudden you arrive on the scene, not just as a fellow officer, but as her husband’s boss. He’s bound to talk about you. The more he does, the more threatened she must feel.”

“But Eva Lou,” Joanna argued, “we never did anything. There was never anything out of line. We’ve just worked together, but here she has me cast as the other woman.”

“Whether you meant to be or not, you are the other woman,” Eva Lou said quietly.

“But what should I do about it?” Joanna asked desperately. “What can I do to fix it?”

“Not a blessed thing, Eva Lou answered. “It’s strictly between the two of them. It has nothing to do with you.”

The front door banged open and a breathless Jenny came racing into the kitchen. “Hi, Mom,” she said. “When’s dinner? I’m starving.”

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