invisible. After a while, impatient and unable to sit still any longer, Joanna got up and roamed the lobby, pacing over to the long lighted display case that decorated the spacious room’s back wall.
There, among a collection of photos dating back to Arizona’s territorial days, Joanna found the official portrait of her late father, Sheriff D. H. “Big Hank” Lathrop. She had seen the display before, but seeing her father’s picture there among the others caught her by surprise and made Joanna wonder what her father’s reaction would be if he could see her now. Would he be proud of her for running and ultimately winning the election? Would he understand why she did it, or would he be puzzled or upset or even disappointed?
Without having the opportunity to know him as an adult, there was no way for his daughter to guess at his possible reactions.
Afraid to return to her seat for fear her tumbling emotions might betray her, Joanna examined the entire display, carefully reading through an encapsulated and officially photographed history of the Cochise County Sheriff’s Department. The last photo in the group, the one on the far right, was also the newest, a portrait of Walter V. McFadden. Next to his was a blank spot.
With a lump in her throat, Joanna realized that, had things been different, Andy’s picture most likely would have hung there eventually. Now that spot would be hers instead, filled no doubt by the picture she’d used for her campaign brochure.
Realizing that eventually her picture would be with her father’s did something to her spine and strengthened her resolve. Most of those previous sheriffs of Cochise County had been fine, upright citizens, doing the best job they could under whatever difficult circumstances had been handed them.
Her father, Big Hank Lathrop, had been a straight shooter in every sense of the word. In his book of sherifflike behavior, scheduled appointments always came first, taking precedence over everything including the always unscheduled demands of a ringing telephone.
And thinking about that reminded her of stories Andy had related to her from time to time, stories about how Dick Voland was prone to throwing his considerable weight around. He had some times bragged about leaving people with appointments cooling their heels in the lobby for as long as he wanted. For the fun of it. Because he felt like it. Because he could.
By the time Joanna turned away from the display case, twenty minutes had passed, and her temper was on the rise. More than 140 people were employed by the Cochise County Sheriff’s Department. Once she was sworn into office, whether in one week or after the standard two months, she would be those employees’ chief administrator. Their boss. And whether they liked it or not, some things about the Sheriff’s Department were about to change.
Joanna hit the wall at exactly twenty-three minutes and counting. She left off pacing in front of the display case and started for the outside door just as Dick Voland sauntered into the waiting room carrying an unsightly brown- stained mug filled with newly poured black coffee.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” he drawled casually. “Got tied up on the phone and just couldn’t get away.”
“That’s all right,” Joanna returned coolly. “I’m sure you’re very busy.”
Noisily sipping away, Dick Voland nodded sagely, making no move to invite Joanna away from the public part of the building.
“What with everything that went on overnight I’m afraid we’re a little behind on our paper,” he said. “I just checked with the transcription clerk She hasn’t had a chance to get cracking on any of last night’s work yet. She says it’ll probably be another fifteen or twenty minutes, if you don’t mind waiting that long.”
Joanna was taller than Dick Voland expected, and she caught sight of the supposedly well-concealed smirk that leaked out over the top rim of his coffee mug. Seeing the look, Joanna Brady knew intuitively that Marianne Macula was right, and she was wrong.
Dick Voland’s being a professional law-enforcement officer made not the slightest difference. His car being parked in the sheriff’s space outside and not in the chief deputy’s was in fact, an open declaration of war.
He knew it, she knew it, and so did all the people toiling away in the outer office.
The same thing went for being kept waiting.
“That’s unfortunate,” she said without raising her voice. “I didn’t really have a spare half hour when I arrived here twenty-four minutes ago. I have even less now. I came here as a courtesy to sign that statement. If I still happen to be here when it’s ready, I’ll be happy to sign it. Otherwise, you’ll have to have someone from here bring it to me.”
Her curt response wasn’t quite what Dick Voland expected. The self-satisfied smirk faded.
“I do have another minute or so, however,” Joanna continued without giving him an opportunity to respond. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to get an advance look at my office.”
Dick Voland might have read the election results in the newspaper. He might have seen them on television. But Joanna Brady saw the man’s face at the moment her words hit home, when the reality of the election outcome finally sank in.
His jaw stiffened. “You mean right now?”
A moment before, no one else in the public area had showed the slightest interest in Joanna Brady, but now an almost electric charge seemed to crackle through the room. Every eye and ear was aimed in their direction, hanging breathlessly on every gesture, every word. It was a test of wills, a critical first step that Joanna Brady could ill afford to fail.
She smiled. “Of course I mean now.”
Without moving, Dick Voland stared back at her. Joanna stood still and waited.
“Oh, all right,” he grumbled irritably, reaching for the hefty key ring that dangled from his belt.
“This way.” Frowning, Voland unlocked the door, opened it, and then stepped back, holding it open for Joanna to enter. “After you,” he said with a slightly exaggerated and too-polite bow.
Joanna recognized the implications at once. It was a none too-subtle issue of control, of who was in charge and who wasn’t. Someone who hadn’t grown up as the daughter of a sheriff might not have paid any attention, might not have caught it but Joanna did.
