“Thanks,” Joanna said. “I don’t need anything to drink, but I need to understand what you mean. Are you saying before HD happens to you?”
“So my father told you about that?” Leslie asked.
“Yes,” Joanna said. “Some. He mentioned that Huntington‘s had affected your grandmother. After what you told me last night about your mother’s being ill, it was easy enough for both your father and me to assume your mother was suffering from the same ailment.”
“It’s hereditary,” Leslie said. “Since my mother has it, there’s a fifty-fifty chance I’ll have it, too.”
Except that isn’t true, Joanna thought, not if Aileen isn’t your biological mother. How can she leave you living in this kind of unnecessary hell?
Sitting there, Joanna was well aware that the photographs of Lisa Evans and Leslie Markham were right there in her briefcase. It would have been easy enough for her to bring them out and set Leslie’s mind at rest about the future, but doing so without having definitive scientific proof from the crime lab seemed irresponsible.
“Can’t they check for that these days?” Joanna asked. “Isn’t there some kind of genetic testing they can do now that will tell you whether or not you’ll fall victim to HD?”
“My mother wanted me to be tested years ago when those tests first became available,” Leslie answered, “but I refused. For me, knowing would be far worse than not knowing. I actually prefer being in the dark, and since I have no intention of ever having children, it doesn’t matter. Besides, if I knew for sure that Huntington‘s was bearing down on me someday, I’d be holding my breath over every tweak in my body, over every mood swing, and wondering if that was the beginning of it. Maybe I’m crazy, but I’d rather walk up to the edge of the cliff and fall off it when I get there rather than anticipating the cliff every moment of my existence. I couldn’t live that way.”
Falling off a cliff, Joanna thought. Ernie said the same thing about finding out he had prostate cancer.
“If I were in your shoes, maybe I couldn’t either,” Joanna conceded. “So tell me about your mother. What was she like?”
“Before she got sick?”
Joanna nodded.
“She was fun,” Leslie answered. “And wild. She taught me to ride almost as soon as I could walk. We’d go riding for hours. Sometimes we’d take a packhorse and ride up into the mountains to camp out under the stars, just the two of us. We’d build a campfire and cook our food over an open flame. It made me feel like I was a pioneer. That was my first clue that Mom’s HD was starting-when she stopped being fun.”
“How long ago was that?” Joanna asked.
“When I was eleven.”
“That’s a long time,” Joanna said.
“It’s typical,” Leslie replied. “Fifteen to twenty years or so of steady decline with no way to stop it.”
“And you’ve been taking care of her ever since?”
“Most of the time. Not by myself, mind you. Dolores has been here from the start.”
“Dolores?” Joanna asked.
“Dolores Mattias,” Leslie answered. “She and her husband, Joaquin, have worked here on the ranch for as long as I can remember. Since before I can remember. I wouldn’t have been able to manage without them. Joaquin looks after the ranch. Dolores comes in every day to look after my mother when I’m at work and on weekends as needed. And Dolores’s niece, Juanita, helps out, too. She goes to Cochise College by day and sleeps here overnight on a daybed in Mother’s room so she can call me immediately in case something happens.”
“Where do Dolores and Joaquin live?” Joanna asked.
“In a mobile home parked just down the road. You came past it on your way here, right after you turned onto Triple H Ranch Road.”
“So you have help,” Joanna said, “but it sounds as though most of the burden for looking after your mother falls to you.”
Leslie nodded. “Mom wanted me to go to college. That was her dream, but by the time I graduated from high school, she was already too sick for me to leave her. Besides, since she never finished college, why should I?”
“So you got your real estate license instead?” Joanna asked.
“That was Rory’s idea. He and Mom have been friends since they were kids. I think at first she was glad when I went to work for him. It made her feel like she had hung around long enough to see me launched. I think that’s the only reason she didn’t do the same thing her mother did.”
“As in commit suicide?” Joanna asked.
Leslie nodded. “Later, when Rory and I ended up falling in love and wanted to get married, Mother approved. She was relieved to know that if something happened to me-that if I did come down with HD-there’d be someone around to take care of me. And the truth is, even though Rory is older than I am, maybe he’ll outlive me. In the meantime, while Mother’s gotten worse and worse, Rory’s been a huge help. For the last couple of years he’s handled all the Triple H’s financial dealings. I don’t know how I would have managed without him. The thing is, I really don’t like real estate all that much. It’s not in my blood the way it is with Rory. Once Mom is gone, I’ll probably forget about real estate, see about getting back into the horse and cattle business and focus on running the ranch.”
Listening to Leslie, Joanna tried to reconcile her description of Aileen Houlihan with what Lawrence Tazewell had said about his ex-wife. Other than the “wild” part, the two descriptions had nothing in common. They might have been discussing two entirely different people.
Leslie had been chatting amiably enough, but now she suddenly seemed to realize what she was doing and pulled back. “Why all the questions about my mother? If you’re hoping she’ll be able to shed some light on the stealth photographer situation, it’s not going to work. As you’ve no doubt gathered, she’s far too sick to answer any questions.”
Irresponsible or not, Joanna was reaching for her briefcase to retrieve the photos when she heard a car pull up outside. A moment later Rory Markham, wearing a suit and tie, burst into the living room.
He stopped short just inside the door with his face registering a mask of disapproval. “For God’s sake, Leslie, why aren’t you ready? It’s late. The wedding’s due to start in less than an hour. You should be dressed already. We’re going to be late.”
At that point he must have caught sight of Joanna, because his tone changed from private bullying to one somewhat more suitable for public consumption. The look on his face moderated as well. “Sorry, Sheriff Brady I didn’t know we had visitors.”
“Rory,” Leslie said. “It’s only a wedding. Do we really have to go? Dolores isn’t here yet, and with Mother the way she is…”
“The bride’s parents are important clients of ours,” Rory returned. “We told them we’d be there. Now, come on. I’m sure Dolores will be here soon. She’s more than capable of looking after your mother.”
“I didn’t mean to delay you,” Joanna said, rising to her feet. “I was just leaving.”
“How can you?” Rory asked. “On foot?”
“My initial ride was summoned to another incident,” Joanna explained. “I’ve called for a deputy to come from Sierra Vista to pick me up. He should be here any minute.”
“But why are you here to begin with?” Rory asked.
“She came to talk to Mother about the photographs,” Leslie put in quickly. “Obviously, considering Mom’s condition, that isn’t going to work. Now, if you’ll excuse me, Sheriff Brady, I guess I need to go change.”
As she hurried out the front door, Joanna caught sight of a departmental SUV pulling up in front of the gate, followed by a Dodge Ram pickup truck. A gray-haired Hispanic woman emerged from the pickup and hurried into the house. “Sorry I’m late, Mr. Markham,” she said.