water glasses, and four wineglasses. That’s more breakage than we usually have in a month. Make that a year. Those wineglasses especially are damned expensive. And what did your pal Montoya do about it? I’ll tell you what he did-nothing! Not a damned thing!”
“Is your sister still there?”
“No. Montoya did do that much, I guess,” Rogers admitted grudgingly. “He talked her into going outside, but he should have arrested her, by God! For disturbing the peace, if nothing else, for trespassing, or even for assault. With all that glass flying around, it’s a wonder somebody didn’t get hurt. If not one of my customers, then one of my workers. It was right in the middle of the Sunday after church rush, too. The place was packed.”
“And this incident was all about your mother?” Joanna asked.
“About her boyfriend, really. Farley Adams. I’m sure Mother’s mentioned him to Susan the same as she has to me, but now that it looks like things might turn serious, Susan’s all pissed off that I haven’t done something to stop it.”
“I take it your sister disapproves of the boyfriend?” Joanna observed.
“Our mother is something of a free spirit,” Rogers said. “But my sister is an uptight middle-class prude with delusions of grandeur. She can’t stand the idea that our mother still has some feminine juices flowing. I’m sure she’d like to think of Mother as a shriveled old prune. The fact that the old girl’s still capable of sowing wild oats drives Susan wild.”
“So what exactly caused the fuss?” Joanna asked.
“I suggested Susan mind her own business. I also hinted that maybe she should try reading
Joanna felt as though important parts of the story were missing. “Why did that upset your sister so?”
“Have
“You’re saying the boyfriend, this Mr. Adams, started out
as your mother’s employee then, as a gardener or something?”
“Right, as her handyman, but he’s graduated to something else, evidently. According to Susan, the two of them drove up to Laughlin, Nevada, a couple of weeks ago and stayed for three whole days. I doubt they had separate rooms. And I doubt they spent the whole time playing slot machines or blackjack, either.”
“All right,” Joanna said. “So your sister disapproved of your mother’s choice of friends, but how did that cause trouble between the two of you?”
“Susan evidently found out about the Laughlin trip just last night. Mother went out to Sierra Vista to have dinner with Susan and her husband and told them all about it. Rubbed their noses in it, was the way Susan put it. She asked me if I had known our mother was drifting in that direction, and why hadn’t I done something to stop it. I told her it was none of my business, any more than it was hers.”
“Where’s your sister now?”
“Not in jail, where she should be. Montoya told her to go home and cool off.”
“And your mother?”
“At home, as far as I know. I haven’t talked to her today so far, but she usually comes by for dinner later on in the afternoon. That’s one of the disadvantages of being in the restaurant business. Some of your relatives give up cooking completely. As far as Mother is concerned, though, it’s the least I can do.”
In the course of the conversation, Clete Rogers sounded as though he had cooled off some. He had needed to vent.
“So things are pretty well under control at the moment, is that correct?” Joanna asked.
“Well, yes. I suppose so.”
“Are you interested in filing any charges?”
“Oh, all right. Probably not. If Mother found out, it would only upset her, wouldn’t it?”
“Most likely.”
“I’ll just let it go, then. But you tell Montoya to give Susan the word. Have him tell her that she’s not to come around here again. That from now on the Grubsteak is totally off limits.”
“It might be best if you told her yourself instead of dragging Deputy Montoya into it,” Joanna inserted smoothly. “Better yet, you might consider having your attorney go to court and obtain a restraining order. That way, if Susan comes anywhere near your home or your place of business, either one, then there’ll be grounds for officers to arrest her. That will go for your town marshals and for my deputies, both. It’ll give everyone a legal basis for removing her.”
“Okay,” Clete Rogers said, sounding mollified. “I’ll think about it. Sounds like good advice, but right now, I’ve got to go. My cashier is waving that she needs something. I’ll let you know about the restraining order later on.”
When he put down the receiver, Joanna sat for some time listening to the dial tone. Nobody had told her how much the job of sheriff had to do with public relations. After half a minute or so, she punched the speed-dial code for the department. When Lisa Howard, the weekend desk clerk answered, Joanna asked to be put through to Dispatch. Tica Romero took the call.
“Afternoon, Sheriff Brady. What can I do for you?”
“What do you hear from Deputy Montoya?”
“Not much. Things must be pretty quiet over in Tombstone this weekend.”
“Not totally quiet,” Joanna countered. “Try to raise Frank on the radio and ask him to give me a call at home. Tell him I’ve had a call from Hizzoner Mayor Rogers.”
“Will do,” Tica said.
“Is there anything else going on?” Joanna asked.
“Nothing out of the ordinary,” Tica told her.
“Good,” Joanna said. “Let’s hope it stays that way.”
When Tica dropped off, Joanna returned the phone to its cradle. Then, thinking better of it, she picked up the receiver, stuffed it into the pocket of her jeans, and took it with her when she returned to the porch.
“Who was it?” Marianne asked. “Butch and Jeff?”
Butch was Butch Dixon. Over Joanna Brady’s initial objections, he had meandered into her life and, invited or not, assumed the role of “boyfriend.” While attending police academy courses in the Phoenix area, Joanna had happened into Butch’s Roundhouse Bar and Grill up in Peoria. The two of them had hit it off. Joanna had enjoyed Butch’s company when he was around, but she hadn’t exactly encouraged the relationship.
Concerned about public reaction as well as Jenny’s feelings and her own, Joanna had thought it far too soon after Andy’s death for her to become involved with anyone. Had it been left up to her, she would have relegated Butch to a back burner and let him stay there. He, however, had taken matters into his own hands. When the opportunity presented itself, he had sold out his business holdings in Peoria and moved to Bisbee. Once settled into his new digs in Bisbee’s Saginaw neighbor-hood, he had gone to work on his lifelong ambition of writing a novel. He had also set himself the task of being useful to Joanna, and to her friends as well.
A bad case of writer’s block and a mutual interest in old cars had drawn him into an easy friendship with Jeff Daniels and his business, Auto Rehab, The two men had joined forces to recondition a ‘5(1 Chevrolet Bel Air. Working together, they had bought the car for a song and than refurbished it on speculation. The previous afternoon the two men had gone off to Scottsdale together, towing their pride and joy behind Jeff’s International and hoping to unload the Bel Air for a modest profit at one of Scottsdale ’s collector car auctions.
The fact that Jeff and Butch were both out of town was one of the reasons Joanna had invited Marianne and Ruth out to High Lonesome Ranch that Sunday after church. She had thought waiting for the menfolk together would be more fun than waiting separately.
“It was work,” Joanna said, in answer to Marianne’s query.
“Is something wrong?” Marianne asked. “Are you going to have to go in to the department?”
“I doubt it. It sounds as though everything is under control, although Frank Montoya will probably be giving me a call in a little while.”
By then Ruth had tired of the leaf game and clambered up onto the porch, displacing Sadie’s long-eared head from Marianne’s lap. The child lay there, struggling to keep her eyes open while a worn-out and panting Tigger flopped down in the grass nearby. Jenny, both elbows planted on the ground, lay beside him. She looked up at her mother.
