Even early on, the center’s main-floor meeting room was brightly lit and smoky. A local country western band twanged away plaintively in the background. Busy circulating, Linda was near the door when Joanna Brady and Frank Montoya came in together. When Frank wasn’t looking, Linda gave Joanna a discreet high sign.
Linda had grown up with a father addicted to Angie Dickinson’s Police Woman. Linda Kimball who baked her own bread, canned her own vegetables, and sewed her own clothes would have been the last person to think of herself as one of those “women’s libbers.” Still, it had done her heart good to vote for a woman for Sheriff for a change, especially over that loudmouthed bigot named Al Freeman.
Linda started over to say hello, but Joanna was intercepted by one of the Tucson television reporters who was stationed just inside the main entrance. The reporter squeezed herself in between the two candidates, cutting Frank out of the picture and shoving a microphone in Joanna’s direction.
“Mrs. Brady, are you excited about the possibility of becoming Arizona’s first female sheriff?” she asked.
Linda thought she detected a hint of annoyance in Joanna’s voice as she answered. “Being a female has nothing to do with it. Law enforcement is the only real issue here.”
“I see,” the reporter returned. “What about the campaign? Has it been difficult for you?”
Linda cringed inwardly at the crassness of the question. Everyone in town knew how devastated Joanna Brady had been over the death of her husband. Was this reporter some kind of idiot? Had she asked Linda Kimball that same question under similar circumstances, she could have expected to have her teeth rattled by someone shaking her by the fully padded shoulders of her fashionable wool blazer.
Joanna paused, as if gathering her resources.
“Election campaigns are always difficult,” she returned evenly. “Regardless of who wins, I’ll be happy to have the election out of the way.”
Linda wanted to cheer, “Good for you!” but she didn’t.
“If you win tonight,” the reporter continued, “when will you start work?”
“what do you mean, when will I start? Newly elected officials are all sworn into office early in January.”
The reporter looked puzzled. “But I thought…”
“You thought what?”
“I was speaking to Mr. Freeman just a few minutes ago. He said that someone on the board of supervisors had told him they want to fill the Sheriffs vacancy immediately-right after the election, without waiting until January.”
A deep red flush stole up Joanna Brady’s face.
“I wouldn’t know anything about that,” she returned coldly.
Behind Joanna the door opened, and Jim Bob and Eva Lou Brady came in with their grand daughter walking stoically between them.
“Isn’t that your daughter?” the reporter asked, catching sight of them. “She’s such a cute little thing. I wanted the camera to get a shot of the two of you together.”
“You’ll have to ask Jenny whether or not she wants to be on TV. It’s up to her.”
The reporter turned questioningly to Jenny, who shook her head emphatically. “That’s that then,” Joanna said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me…
As Joanna hurried past, Linda Kimball reached out and shook her hand. “Congratulations, Joanna. Good job,” she said.
Linda could have been talking about just the election, but she actually meant far more than that.
In that brief exchange with the reporter, she had caught a glimpse of Joanna Brady’s basic honesty and toughness.
Those were qualities Linda Kimball should have recognized. She had them in abundance herself. Still steamed by her encounter with the reporter, Joanna took Jenny with her and set off across the room to where she had caught sight of Milo Davis standing visiting with Jeff Daniels and his wife, Reverend Marianne Macula.
“So,” Jeff was saying to Milo, “we actually took back the study today. Cleaned out all the mass mailing stuff, unburied Marianne’s desk…”
“I even vacuumed,” Marianne chirped proudly.
“You vacuumed?” Joanna teased, coming in on the tail end of the conversation. “I don’t believe it. That only happens once in a blue moon, doesn’t it, Jeff?” she asked.
“Mark your calendars then,” he said, “because she did it, and we’re not just talking her study either. She vacuumed the whole house.”
Marianne smiled good-naturedly at the ribbing, “Just don’t expect it all the time. It’s decompression. With all the campaign work over, I needed something to do with my hands.”
Jenny naturally gravitated toward Jeff, who took her by the hand and led her toward the refreshment table.
Meanwhile, Marianne examined Joanna’s face. “What’s the matter? You look upset.”
Joanna glanced back over her shoulder toward the reporter, who was still stationed by the door, “That reporter just told me that, according to Al Freeman, the board of supervisors wants to swear in the new sheriff right away. Is that possible?”
Milo, juggling a glass of wine and a plate of hors d’oeuvres, munched thoughtfully on a carrot stick. “Are you just now hearing about that?”
Marianne frowned. “That creep,” she said. As far as Al Freeman was concerned, Marianne’s venture into
