“What piece is that?” Eleanor asked. “I brought the paper in from the porch, but I haven’t had a chance to read it yet. I usually save that for after George goes to work.”
“You know what piece I mean,” Joanna retorted. “It’s the part of Marliss Shackleford’s column that talks about my being pregnant. How could you do that to me, Mother? How could you?”
“Do what?”
Eleanor’s tone of affronted innocence made Joanna that much angrier. “Come on, Mother.
Don’t play games. How could you go behind my back and talk to Marliss that way? Other than Jenny, you and George were the first people Butch and I told. Did it ever occur to you that maybe we’d like the opportunity of sharing the news with a few other people in person before you hauled off and put it in the paper for everyone to read over their morning coffee?”
“Before I put it in the paper?” Eleanor repeated.
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“Yes. It’s this morning’s lead item in Marliss Shackleford’s column.”
“So you think that as soon as I got home from your house last night, I called Marliss and told her about this?” Eleanor demanded. “You think the idea of my daughter being pregnant and running for office at the same time is something I’d be in a hurry to brag about?”
“Are you saying you didn’t tell her?” Joanna asked.
“Of course I didn’t tell her,” Eleanor declared heatedly.
“Who did, then?”
“How should I know?” Eleanor returned. “All I can say is, Marliss didn’t get it from me. It hurts me to hear you’d even think such a thing.”
“You and Marliss have always been good friends,” Joanna pointed out.
“Yes, but that doesn’t mean I have to go to her to air our family’s dirty laundry.”
That brought Joanna up short. “It’s not dirty,” she said finally. “Remember, Mother?
I’m a married woman. My husband and I are expecting a baby together.”
“Then what are you so upset about?” Eleanor shot back. “Why are you calling me and giving me such a load of grief over it? Now, if you don’t mind, I believe I’ll get back to my breakfast. Goodbye.”
With that, Eleanor hung up, leaving Joanna sputtering into thin air. Moments later, Joanna slammed her own phone back into its cradle. That was the thing that made Eleanor Lathrop Winfield so damned exasperating. No matter what happened, Joanna was always in the wrong.
Still seething, Joanna picked up the paper and turned it back to the front page.
There she found a long article on the
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Carol Mossman murder, and a short piece about an unidentified inmate of the Cochise County Jail who had been found dead in the recreation yard. The paper had been printed late enough the previous night for the item about Joanna’s pregnancy to make it into Marliss Shackleford’s column. Wouldn’t it also have been late enough to mention the jail fatality by name as well?
Maybe Mother didn’t leak the story to Marliss after all, Joanna thought. But if not Eleanor, who?
Joanna was still staring unseeing at the newspaper when there was a discreet tap on her door. She looked up to see Kristin peeking warily into the room.
“It’s all right,” Joanna said. “It’s safe to come in. I’ve stopped throwing things now.”
Kristin came forward apologetically. “I’m so sorry, Sheriff Brady,” she began. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Joanna said. “I was surprised, is all. I didn’t expect the news to show up in the paper quite this soon. It’s like somebody having to read about the death of a family member before we have a chance to do a next-of-kin notification.
There are a few other people I would have preferred hearing the news from me in person rather than having them read about it in the paper.”
“Believe me,” Kristin said, “I understand about that, but you are happy about this, aren’t you, Sheriff Brady? Not about it being in the newspaper, but about the baby, I mean?”
“Of course I’m happy,” Joanna answered. “It’s a surprise, but Butch and I are both delighted. The lesson here is, no matter what the clever ads say on television, the Pill’s not one hundred percent foolproof, especially if you happen to skip one at just the wrong time.”
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Which is probably exactly what happened, Joanna thought, although she didn’t say it aloud.
“Oh,” Kristin said. “That’s okay then. It’s just that you were so upset …”
“I’m still upset,” Joanna corrected. “Marliss could have had the common decency to check out the story with me before she put the piece in the paper. And if Madame Bisbee Bee should happen to show her face around here anytime today, you might advise her to steer clear of me. If she gets too close, I might be tempted to pull out a handful of her peroxided locks. As long as I can’t see her, I’ll be fine.”
Joanna paused and, for the first time, noticed that Kristin was carrying several handwritten messages. “So what’s up?” Joanna added.
Kristin nodded self-consciously. “Detective Carpenter says he’s going to Tucson for the Osmond autopsy. He’ll be gone most of the morning. Also, Edith Mossman is coming here for an interview with Detective Carbajal. Ernie says Jaime will probably need someone to sit in on that with him.”
‘All right,” Joanna said. “If Frank Montoya can’t do it, I will. Anything else?”
“There were two other calls that came in while you were on the phone. One was from Reverend Maculyea and the other from Eva Lou Brady. I told them you’d call them back.”
Damn Marliss Shackleford anyway! Joanna thought savagely. She said, “I will call them back, Kristin, so when you go back out, please shut the door.”
For the next half hour, Joanna made a series of calls. Conversations that should have been happy ones announcing her pregnancy ended up being chores instead. Joanna spent most of the time on the phone apologizing to one person after another, 116
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including her best friend, Marianne Maculyea, and her former mother-in-law, Eva Lou Brady, both of whom had already read Marliss’s column. By the time Joanna’s chief deputy returned for the morning briefing, Joanna welcomed the interruption.
“We’ll have to make this quick,” Frank told her. “I’ve got a news conference scheduled in a little while. It’s primarily to go over the Richard Osmond situation, but if they ask, what do you want me to say about you?”
‘About my delicate condition?” Joanna asked.
Frank nodded.
“Tell them I have no intention of dropping out of the race for sheriff. If daddies can be soldiers and sheriffs, so can mommies.”
“Do you think that’s the best way to couch it?” Frank asked. “With potential voters, I mean.”
“It may not be the best way,” Joanna told him. “But it’s my way, and you can quote me on that. If you’re going to be busy with a press conference, who’s going to back up Jaime Carbajal when he questions Edith Mossman?”
“I guess it’s up to you,” Frank said.
Joanna nodded. “Okay. Speaking of Edith Mossman, how’s she getting here from Sierra Vista? We’re not expecting her to catch a cab from there to Bisbee, are we?”
“No,” Frank said. “I believe one of Edith’s granddaughters-the one who lives here in town-is picking her up and bringing her to the department.”
“Good,” Joanna said. “I’m glad to hear it.”
When the briefing ended, Frank left her office and Kristin entered once more, bringing with her that day’s first load of correspondence. Joanna had managed to get a good start on dealing with the paper jungle when her intercom buzzed. “Sheriff Brady?”
Kristin said. “Mrs. Mossman is here.”
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“She and Detective Carbajal are in the conference room?” Joanna asked.
“Right.”
“Okay,” Joanna said. “I’ll be right there.”