relieved to find a voice-mail message from Eva Lou Brady waiting on the phone in their room. “We’re back,” Eva Lou’s cheerful voice announced. “Call us.”
While Jenny headed for the bathroom to change into her swimming suit, Joanna called the Brady’s room. “Where were you?” she asked.
“I saw an announcement in the paper this morning saying that the Salvation Army needed volunteers to come help serve their holiday meal. You and Jenny were gone, and I couldn’t see Jim Bob and me just sitting around all day with him doing nothing hut watching football. We decided to go to help out for a little while. Now I’m going to take a little nap and let Jimmy watch one football game before dinner. What are you and Jenny up to?”
Briefly, Joanna brought Eva Lou up to date on what had happened to them. “I’d better get off the phone. Jenny has her suit on, finally. She’s champing at the bit to get in the pool. I’m going to go down and watch her, but I’m taking along that packet of mail you brought me. I’ll use the time to work on my correspondence.”
Once Jenny was happily paddling back and forth in the pool, Joanna emptied the contents of a large manila envelope onto a nearby patio table. The item pled on top of the pile was a second envelope, much smaller than the first. That one, with a Sheriff’s Department return address, was hand-addressed to Joanna. Inside she found a handwritten memo from Frank Montoya detailing the problem with the cook. Nothing to do about that one, she thought as she tossed it aside. As Frank had said, that one was handled.
An hour later, she had plowed through the whole collection. There wasn’t anything particularly exciting. A whole lot about being sheriff wasn’t more interesting than tracking a life insurance application or reading the proposed agenda for the next Board of Supervisors meeting, which was dutifully enclosed. It dawned on Joanna that she had signed up to do the nuts-and-bolts part of the job—the administrative part—as well as the more exciting ones. When she finished reading through the mail and jotting off answers to whatever required a reply, she felt better.
She wasn’t neglecting her duty by leaving home to learn what she needed to know to do the job better. Things at the department were going along just fine without her. She had delegated responsibilities in a way that was getting things done without allowing her absence to undermine her new position.
At ten to three she dredged a protesting Jenny out of the pool. “We need to be back in the room to answer the phone in case Grandma Lathrop calls. Do you want to shower first or should I?”
“You go first,” Jenny said.
Joanna was showered, had her makeup on, and was half through drying her hair when Jenny pushed open the bathroom door to say Joanna had a phone call.
“Who is it?” Joanna asked.
Jenny shrugged. “I dunno,” she said. “Some guy.”
“Hello,” Joanna answered.
“Sheriff Brady?”
The voice sounded vaguely familiar. “Yes,” she said warily.
“My name’s Bob Brundage. I’m down here in the lobby. I was wondering if you’d care to join me for a drink.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. . . . What did you say your name is?”
“Brundage,” he replied.
“I’m not in the habit of meeting strangers for drinks. Besides, I’m expecting company…”
“We have a mutual acquaintance,” Bob Brundage insisted. “I’m sure she’d be very disappointed if
