Joanna went over to him and shook him gently by the shoulder. “Wake up, Dick,” she said.

His eyes blinked open. Glazed with weariness, he stared at Joanna for a moment without seeming to recognize her. “Everything here is under control “ she continued. “Go home and get a good night’s rest. There’s no reason for you to sleep here.”

Slowly he swung his feet to the floor and then sat with his hands clasping his forehead. “I can’t go home,” he muttered.

“Of course you can,” Joanna returned. “If you’re too tired, I’ll get one of the deputies to drive you.”

“I said, I can’t go home!” He drew the blanket around him and sat staring down at the floor. There was something in the way he looked, some quality of abject misery in his voice, that warned Joanna there was more going on here, something over and above his being too tired to drive.

Without waiting for an invitation, she sank down on the couch beside him.

“What is it, Dick?” she asked.

“Ruth kicked me out,” he said at last. “She says she wants a divorce, and I haven’t had time to go looking for an apartment.”

“Ruth kicked you out?” Joanna repeated. “How come? What’s going on?”

“She’s jealous,” he answered.

“Jealous of your job? She’s been married to a cop for long enough that she should know how it goes.”

There was a long silence. “No,” he said finally. “It’s not the job. She’s jealous of you.”

“Of me!” Joanna exclaimed. “You’ve got to be kidding. That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. You told her there was nothing to it, didn’t you?”

“I tried,” Dick Voland said miserably. “I don’t think she believed me.”

Shocked beyond speech, Joanna got tip, walked bark over to the doorway and switched on the light. “How long have you been sleeping here?” she asked.

“A week,” he said. “I’ve been keeping my clothes in the car and showering in the deputies’ locker room, all the while hoping she’d come to her senses.”

“Do you want me to talk to her?” Joanna asked.

“Not on your life!” Dick Voland replied. “That’s the last thing I want you to do.”

Late as it was when Joanna arrived home, she started the washer the moment she walked in the door. She had used the last of her clean underwear that morning. If she didn’t stay up late enough to put a load of wash in the dryer, she’d have to wear a damp bra and pair of panties to work the next morning.

Ruth Voland is jealous of me? she thought. How can that be?

Once she staggered into bed, sleep came quickly, but so did morning. Feeling guilty about spending so much time away from Jenny, Joanna had set the alarm for six so she could drive into town early and have breakfast with Jenny before she left for school.

She was dressed and close to leaving the house when the phone rang. Hurrying back to answer it, she found her mother on the phone. “You never called me back yesterday,” Eleanor complained.

“I didn’t get home until almost midnight,” Joanna answered. “I didn’t think you’d want me to call that late.”

“Well, I suppose not,^,” Eleanor agreed. “Were you out dealing with that awful mess up by Tombstone?”

Joanna sighed. “As a matter of fact, I was.”

“What I can’t understand is why those people keep on coming here in the first place. Why don’t they just stay in Mexico where they belong?”

“Why didn’t your great-grandparents stay in England?” Joanna asked.

“That was different,” Eleanor told her.

This was a long-standing argument-one that no amount of logic could win. Joanna closed her eyes and prayed for patience. “What is it you want, Mother?”

There was a slight pause before Eleanor answered. “Are you planning on attending the Buckwalter funeral this morning?” she asked finally.

^“Yes.^”

“Well, good,” Eleanor said. “You should. Your father always did. Keeping up appearances, you know. In the face of this awful crime wave, it’s important that people see you out in public and know you’re on the job.”

Eleanor hadn’t been wildly in favor of her daughter’s running for office in the first place. Now that Joanna had won the election, however, Eleanor Lathrop seemed determined to do everything necessary to keep the job of sheriff in the family.

“Right, Mother,” Joanna said.

“You know,” Eleanor added, “I never remember anything like this number of homicides happening all at once when your father was in office.”

No doubt there was a hidden subtext behind that comment. Eleanor was probably building tip to letting Joanna know that everything that had happened was all Joanna’s fault. It was fine for Joanna to blame herself. It was definitely not okay for her mother to do the same.

“Neither do I,” Joanna said. “But times have changed, haven’t they?”

“Yes,” Eleanor admitted. “I suppose they have. By the way, did you ever talk to Reverend Maculyea? She called here looking for you.”

“Marianne called there? That’s odd. What’s going on?” “I don’t know. You’d better talk to her first thing.”

“I will,” Joanna agreed. “As soon as I get off the phone with you.”

It was only after she clicked the receiver that Joanna remembered that she still hadn’t tackled her mother on the subject of her relationship with Cochise County Coroner George Winfield. That conversation was going to come, though, eventually.

Joanna dialed Marianne Maculyea’s number without ever dropping the telephone receiver back on the hook. She was worried about calling too early, but when Marianne answered she sounded wide awake, if harried.

“I can’t talk long,” the pastor said. “I’m on my way out the door to catch a plane.”

“A plane. Where to?”

“San Francisco. Jeff sent me a telegram yesterday afternoon. First nothing happens for weeks on end. Then all of a sudden he sends word yesterday that I have to be in San Francisco by noon today. The expectation had always been for him to fly into Tucson and for me to meet him there. He didn’t send along any explanation about the change in plan, either. Nothing. Just ‘meet us in San Francisco,’ and a flight number from Hong Kong. But that’s something anyway. At least he said ‘us’. It means…”

Marianne’s voice faltered.

“It means he did get the baby, right?” Joanna finished triumphantly.

“That’s right.”

“How great! Mari, congratulations. Aren’t you excited?”

“Yes, but… It’s just that…”

“It’s just what?”

“I’ve been so worried that there was some kind of hitch and he wouldn’t be able to get her out, that I had sort of given up hope. Now I guess I’m a little overwhelmed.”

“Do you need a ride to Tucson? Can I come pick you up? God knows, I’ve put in enough hours at work this week.”

“No,” Marianne said. “I’ve asked Billy Matthews from First Baptist to substitute for me at Bucky Buckwalter’s funeral. Meantime, I’m driving myself up in the Bug.”

Joanna knew her friend well enough to discern the undercurrent of concern beneath her business-as-usual words. “Mari,” Joanna said, “what’s wrong?”

Marianne laughed. “I’m that transparent?”

“To me you are. Now tell me. What’s wrong?”

“I’m scared,” Marianne Maculyea said.

“Scared of what?”

“Of becoming a mother. All of a sudden I realized I don’t know the first thing about it. What if she gets sick? What if she won’t eat or hurts herself? How will I know what to do?”

Joanna laughed at that. “Everybody feels that way in the beginning, but you’ll be fine. You and Jeff will be wonderful parents. Just remember, it’s all on-the-job training. How soon are you leaving for the airport?”

“Half an hour.”

“Promise me you won’t go until I get there. Jenny and have something that we want you to take along.”

“All right,” Marianne agreed. “I’ll wait.”