“Jeff Daniels takes care of Jeffy and Ruth,” Jenny said. “Don’t you think he does a good job?”
“That’s different,” Eleanor scoffed. “Marianne is a minister. She isn’t out being shot at and beaten up by all kinds of riffraff.”
95
“I’m not either,” Joanna said quietly.
That was one of the many differences between Joanna and her mother. When Eleanor was upset, her volume went up. Joanna’s went down.
“Oh?” returned Eleanor sharply. “I suppose that scar on your face is some kind of birth defect?”
Joanna felt her face flush, knowing when she did so that the long scar on her cheek, a souvenir from an encounter with an enraged suspect’s diamond ring, would stand out that much more clearly.
“With all these working mothers, it’s no wonder we’re having such problems with juvenile delinquents.”
Joanna knew that the statistics on the incidence of juvenile delinquency were down, not up, but now was no time to insert actual facts into Eleanor’s diatribe.
“What would have become of you if I’d been gallivanting off to a job every day from the moment you were born?” Eleanor demanded.
Before Joanna could reply, Jenny beat her to it. “What about me?” she asked. “Mom’s been working the whole time I’ve been around. I’ve turned out all right, haven’t I?”
The phone rang just then. Glad for any excuse to escape the escalating dining room battle, Joanna hurried to answer it.
“Sheriff Brady?” an agitated Tom Hadlock said.
“Yes,” Joanna replied. “What’s up?”
“We’ve lost one,” Hadlock replied.
“One what?”
‘A prisoner. Richard Osmond.”
Joanna was stunned. “What do you mean, you lost him? Did he go over the fence, or what?”
“No,” Hadlock said. “He’s dead. We did a roll call once we 97
had everyone back inside, and Osmond was missing. We found him outside, lying on one of the picnic table benches. He was hidden in a shadow. Nobody knew he was there.”
“Somebody knew,” Joanna said grimly. “They just aren’t telling. I’m on my way.”
“Tica Romero’s trying to get hold of Doc Winfield,” Hadlock continued.
“Tell her not to bother. He’s here with me. I’ll bring him along when I come. She’s calling out one of the Double C’s?”
“That’s right,” Hadlock answered. “I believe she said Ernie’s on call. I’m really sorry about this, Sheriff Brady. We had guards and deputies all over that yard the whole time the prisoners were out there. I can’t imagine how something like this could have happened.”
“Was he stabbed, beaten up, what?” Joanna demanded.
“There are no apparent wounds, no sign of foul play” Hadlock said. “He’s just lying there on his back, peaceful as can be, like he fell asleep. We didn’t move him, though, so there could be something on his back that isn’t showing.”
“We’ll find out when we get there,” Joanna said. “Is the jail under lockdown?”
“Yes, it is,” Hadlock replied. “It’s a shame to have to do that. I mean, other than this, no other unfortunate incidents at all.”
“If you’ll pardon my saying so, Mr. Hadlock,” Joanna said tersely, “finding a dead prisoner is unfortunate enough for me.”
Joanna put down the phone and returned to the dining room. The people gathered around the table were quiet. They all looked at her expectantly. “I guess you heard, then,”
she said. “There’s a problem at the jail. We have to go, George. You can ride with me.”
106
EXIT WOUNDS
Nodding, the ME wiped his face with his napkin, folded it, and then pushed his chair back. “Do you want me to drive you home first, Ellie?”
“I’m perfectly capable of driving myself,” Eleanor returned.
George paused long enough to give her a peck on the cheek. “All right, then,” he said. “See you at home.”
Butch, in the meantime, gave Joanna a raised-eyebrow look that said volumes about his being left alone to deal with Eleanor. All Joanna could do was give him a shrugged apology.
When she opened the door that led to her garage, the three dogs were all inside.
Tigger greeted George happily. Lucky went up and dribbled a stream of pee on George’s highly polished loafer while the Australian shepherd skittered away. When Joanna opened the outside door, she disappeared into the night.
“Where did all these dogs come from?” George asked. “Isn’t that little one the pup you were carrying around
