That means she counsels individual women and whatever children they may have brought with them when they ran away. She tries to help the women gain a toehold on life away from their former lifestyle. Otherwise they’re in danger of going back.”
“They’re like refugees,” Joanna observed.
“Pretty much,” Edith agreed.
There was a short pause in the conversation during which both women concentrated on their food. Joanna moved her sandwich around on the plate rather than eating much of it.
“If Andrea is part of that group,” Joanna began, “what about Stella?”
“Oh, no. Not Stella. She found herself a husband-a very nice husband, by the way.
She’s always been the strong one. She’s not big on support groups, either. Once she made up her mind to, she put all that other business behind her. I think Andrea tried 267
to get her to help out with some of the God’s Angels programs, but Stella wasn’t interested. She said she was over it, and she wanted to stay that way.”
Joanna decided to switch subjects. “What did your son do for Phelps Dodge when he worked there?” she asked.
“Drove a truck,” Edith answered at once. “Those big dump trucks they used to haul waste from the pit out to the tailings dump.”
“He never worked in the General Office?”
“Oh, no. Are you kidding? Eddie Mossman never had an office job in his life. He didn’t have the education for a desk job, to say nothing of the mindset.”
“What about your daughter-in-law?”
“Cynthia? The poor girl was a mousy little thing who never worked outside the home.
If she had-if she’d had a job and money of her own-maybe she could have left Eddie just like some of those other women are doing, but back then, there wouldn’t have been anyone like God’s Angels to help her. As far as Cynthia was concerned, Eddie was the head of the family, and his word was law. She did as she was told. If I’d had any idea about what was really going on, I would have tried to do something, but I didn’t know. Not at the time. Not until it was too late to do any good. But why are you asking about Eddie’s job? What does his job with PD have to do with any of this?”
Joanna wasn’t prepared to reveal details about the unusual weapon information that had telegraphed the connection between Carol Mossman’s death and the murders in New Mexico.
“Just wondering,” she said. A moment later she added, “When did you first hear that your son was in town?”
“Yesterday,” Edith said. “Yesterday afternoon. He phoned 268
and ordered me to call the mortuary and tell them that Carol’s body should be released to him rather than to me. I told him to go fly a kite, that I’d already made the arrangements. He said I couldn’t do that, that she was his daughter and he’d have the final say. I told him to go ahead and try.”
“Did he happen to mention how he found out about Carol’s murder?”
“No.”
“Or when he came to town?”
“No. He didn’t tell me that, either. You have to understand, Sheriff Brady, it wasn’t a pleasant phone call. He was yelling at me the whole time, and I was yelling right back.”
It was time for Joanna to ask the critical question straight out. “Mrs. Mossman,”
Joanna said, “do you think it’s possible that your son murdered his own daughter?”
“You mean, do I think Eddie killed Carol?” Edith shook her head. “No, I doubt that’s possible, but I almost wish he had. At least that way, I’d have the satisfaction of seeing him shipped off to prison for the rest of his life, the way he deserves.
You see, Sheriff Brady, I wrestled with that same question myself all last night.
If Eddie was the one who murdered Carol, why on earth would he come back here to try and claim her body? Why not just go straight back to Mexico and stay there? Nobody’s going to bother going all the way down to Obregon to bring him back. Eddie’s stupid, but surely he’s not that stupid. Besides, what would be his motive to kill her?”
“Maybe he didn’t want Carol to go public with her story,” Joanna suggested.
“Why would he object to that?” Edith asked. “Eddie’s proud of the way he lives. He doesn’t think he has anything to be ashamed of. As far as he’s concerned, he’s right and everybody
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else is wrong. And since the people he hangs around with all hold the same beliefs, why would he care?”
“Maybe some of them care,” Joanna said. “There are other Brethren, aren’t there?
Maybe some of the ones who live in this country aren’t interested in being quite so blatant about it. Maybe one of them wanted to keep the interview from taking place.”
“I suppose that’s possible,” Edith said, pushing her plate away.
“Wasn’t the enchilada any good?” Daisy asked when she came to pick up their dirty dishes. “I’d be glad to get you something else.”
