Expecting to be raked over the coals because of her late arrival, Joanna was surprised to find that her mother was in an expansive mood. While Joanna pushed the Blazer well beyond the posted speed limits, Eleanor regaled Eva Lou Brady with stories about her trip to Washington. It seemed that everything Bob and Marcie Brundage had done to entertain her had been perfectly wonderful, with the minor exception of finding a suitable beautician.

“I was so happy to get back to Helen Barco this morning and have a real shampoo for a change,” she announced. “All t hose places I tried in D.C. believe in using blow-dryers and curling irons. That’s just not the same thing as rollers and a real hair dryer.”

Only half listening as she drove, Joanna marveled at how easy it seemed for Bob and Marcie to get along with Eleanor. I laving grown up in an adoptive family, he and Eleanor were evidently able to relate to one another as adults, without all the complications and conflicts of childhood and adolescence getting between them. In a way, Joanna felt almost jealous. Maybe, if she and Eleanor had met on an adult basis as well, in some kind of social setting, perhaps they, too, would have been able to like each other. As it was…

Joanna came back into the conversation in time to hear her mother declare, “People like that are an absolute menace.” Eleanor was half-turned in the passenger seat and speaking over her shoulder to Eva Lou, who was seated in back. “They take the law into their own hands, without giving a thought to anyone else.”

For a moment, Joanna thought the discussion had something to do with her driving. Carefully, she eased her foot off the accelerator and watched the speedometer fall from eighty back down to a more responsible sixty-five. Eva Lou’s reply, though, was proof enough that the Bucky Buckwalter murder was actually the subject under discussion.

“I suppose Terry will have to close the place up,” she said.

Eleanor nodded. “That’s what she said when I saw her this morning. That she’s already making arrangements to sell out. It has something to do with the fact that she can’t keep the clinic open without a licensed vet on the premises.”

“What will people in Bisbee do about their pets in the meantime?” Eva Lou asked.

“Drive sixty miles roundtrip, I suppose,” Eleanor answered. “They’ll either have to go all the way out to Sierra Vista, or down to Douglas.”

Eva Lou clicked her tongue. “That could be a real hardship. Think about poor old Mr. Holloway. He just loves that cute little dog of his. He calls her Princess, and treats her like one, too. They go everywhere together, but Jed Holloway’s eyes are getting so bad now that he only drives in town anymore. He’d never dare go as far as Douglas. What’s he going to do the next time Princess needs a shot?”

“I can’t imagine,” Eleanor sighed. “‘That’s exactly what was saying a moment ago,” she added. “I feel sorry for the man, losing his wife and all. But still, he might have give some thought about how his actions would affect the rest of us.”

Joanna felt like saying that Hal Morgan’s grief-fueled fixation on Bucky Buckwalter had most likely left no room ft thinking about the consequences of depriving the citizens of Bisbee of their only vet. She thought about it, but let it go. Instead, she focused in on one part of her mother’s conversation-that Terry Buckwalter would be closing the Buckwalter Animal Clinic.

“You saw Terry Buckwalter in town this morning? Joanna asked.

Eleanor nodded. “That’s right. At Helene’s,” she replied. “She was having her hair and makeup done. I have to say she looked great-better than I’ve ever seen her.” Eleanor turned to Joanna and gave her daughter’s hairdo a critically appraising once-over.

“Speaking of hair, isn’t it about time you had yours cut again? It’s getting a little long. You probably should have had it done before today’s luncheon. Aren’t there going to be newspaper photographers?”

This was part of what Joanna had dreaded about accompanying Eleanor to the luncheon. It was inevitable that she would end up on a tightrope, caught between the two wider divergent roles of dutiful daughter and sheriff honoree. In the past, she might have been pulled into one of Eleanor’ endless debates on the subject of beauty and grooming, but for once, she wasn’t. She was too preoccupied with something else, something Eleanor had said. The words had hit far too close home.

Soon after Andy’s death, almost within days, any number of unscrupulous real estate vultures had shown up on her doorstep. All of them had been eager to buy her out-to take High Lonesome Ranch off her hands-at bargain-basement prices. She had felt as though they all thought the words “widow” and “sucker” were one and the same. Now she found herself wondering if some of those same kinds of low-life scum were busily targeting Terry Buckwalter for the same reason-to cheat her-without even having the good grace to wait for Bucky to be properly buried.

“You’re sure Terry Buckwalter said she’s selling the practice?” Joanna asked.

Eleanor hesitated. “She didn’t tell me exactly,” Eleanor said. “Not in so many words. She was leaving Helene’s at the same time I was going in. I only saw her on her way out the door, but that is what she told Helen Barco. And she’s not just unloading the clinic, either. She’s going to sell out completely-the house, the practice, everything.

“Now then,” Eleanor added, blithely changing the subject. “Would you like me to make an appointment for you? At Helene’s, I mean. You should have seen what Helen did for that frumpy Terry Buckwalter. You’d be amazed. The haircut and makeup made all the difference in the world. In fact, I almost didn’t recognize her.”

All the old conditioning was there and all the old patterns. Eleanor’s offer of help, which was actually nothing but art-fully disguised criticism, was an old, old ploy. Joanna was within a heartbeat of rising to the bait when she caught sight of Eva Lou’s face in the rearview mirror. Eva Lou’s quick wink, accompanied by a sympathetic smile, were enough to bring Joanna up short. Let it go, the wink seemed to say. Don’t^’ let her do this.

It was enough of an assist so Joanna was able to stop the rising retort before it ever made it out of her mouth. Instead to her surprise, she discovered it was possible to shrug of her mother’s none-too-subtle attack while at the same time saluting Eleanor’s unwavering single-mindedness.

“‘Thanks all the same, Mother,” Joanna said with a smile. “I’ll have to see when I can work a haircut into my schedule and set the appointment on my own.”

To Joanna’s amazement, that was all it took. Once she let it go, so did Eleanor. By the time they reached the Rob Rob parking lot a few minutes later, Eleanor was happily telling Eva Lou all about Bob and Marcie’s bone-china egg cups.

It was ten after twelve. Between golfers and luncheon attendees, the parking lot was fairly crowded. Joanna dropped Eleanor and Eva Lou at the door and then drove to the nearest available parking place at the far end of the lot. As she stepped out of the Blazer, she realized that the car next to hers was a familiar-looking aging white T-Bird that looker very much like Terry Buckwalter’s.

Sure enough, when she went around to the back and looked at the vehicle license, the license surround was printed with the words, “Have you hugged your vet today?”

Joanna was stunned. She had been surprised by Terri Buckwalter’s matter-of-fact acceptance of what had happened to her husband, but was the woman out playing golf the very next day? That was astonishing. Unheard of. And if Joann was shocked by the idea, Terry Buckwalter was making a social faux pas that would set tongues wagging all over Cochise County for years to come.