Joanna gave him a frail smile. “It’s possible you’re prejudiced,” she said.

“Nope,” he declared, “not me. I admit it’s been a bad week around here for lots of folks, but I’m sure that before too long you’ll sort it all out.”

“Sort it all out?” Joanna snorted. “What good will the do? Several people are dead, all of them in my jurisdiction. Five in all, with a couple more lives hanging by a thread. In at least two of those cases my own actions, or inactions on the part of some of my people, are partially responsible for what happened.”

“So?” Jim Bob returned. “Most likely those people would be dead regardless of who was sheriff. The only thing you can do is try and see to it that whoever’s responsible get what’s comin’ to him.”

Unable to say anything in return, Joanna turned an, looked back toward the mound of flowers next to Buck Buckwalter’s grave. “When people are dead,” she said finally, “punishing the killer always seems like too little too late.”

“Maybe so, but it’s the best you can do. Come along now,” Jim Bob added. “It’s too chilly for you to be out here very long.”

Reaching out, he took Joanna by the hand and pulled her close, then he headed off across the cemetery, leading her back in the direction of the parked cars. “Eva Lou saw you walk off, and she sent me to fetch you. She was concerned.”

“I’m sorry to worry you,” Joanna said. “That was thoughtless of me.”

“That’s all right. Problem is, we’re in a little bit of a hurry because Eva Lou’s due to help serve at the Ladies’ Aid’s luncheon. I need to drop her by the church before too long. You see, that’s Eva Lou’s thing, Joanna. Servin’ lunch may not seem like much of anything. On the scale of things, it’s sort of like you said-too little, too late. But when people are hurtin’, fixin’ and servin’ food is the best Eva Lou can do. You’re so busy looking at the murder part of all this that you’ve plumb forgot it’s the lunches and the little things that glue us all together.”

Looking up at her father-in-law gratefully, Joanna realized what he was saying was absolutely true. “Thanks, Jim Bob,” she said. “I needed that.”

Back at the cars, Eva Lou was already waiting in her husband’s Honda. “I guess we’ll see you later,” she said. “Your mother mentioned that you wouldn’t be coming to the church.”

Joanna smiled in at her through the partially opened window. “What is it Jim Bob always says about a wise man changing his mind?” She took her father-in-law’s hand and squeezed it. “He gave me a little pep talk over there. Sort of like the one you gave me earlier. Now that you’ve both go my attention, I believe I’ll come along to the luncheon after all.

Just inside the parish hall of Canyon Methodist Church Joanna ran into Bebe Noonan. Still dressed in black, she was carrying a plateful of food and looking somewhat restored. She smiled tentatively when she saw Joanna.

“‘Thank you for your help, Sheriff Brady,” she said. “I did lust what you said. I asked Dan Storey to represent me--ml and the baby.”

Joanna nodded. “I heard about the court order, so I knew you must have found someone.”

“That’s not all, either,” Bebe added. “I talked to Reggie Wade a little while ago. Did you know he’s taking over Bucky’s practice?”

“Yes,” Joanna said. “So I heard.”

“Well,” Bebe went on, “he told me that when the deal goes through, I’ll be able to stay on with him. He says it’ll be a big help to him if he has someone here in town who already knows Bucky’s clients. Since Terry won’t be working there anymore, I’ll have a full-time job instead of a part-time one. He may even let me stay in the house for a while. That way, he’ll have someone to look after things. So we’ll be all right, the baby and I, right?”

Joanna had terrible misgivings about what it would be like for Bebe Noonan as a single parent in a small town-particularly an unwed single parent. Joanna had the financial security of some insurance, a reasonably well-paying job, and loving grandparents and friends to backstop her when it came to emergency child care. Bebe Noonan and her baby would have none of those. Bebe seemed to have only the barest grasp of the difficulties ahead. Still, her question pleaded for a simple affirmative answer. Joanna gave her what she wanted.

“Yes, Bebe,” Joanna said. “I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

“Why, Joanna,” Marliss Shackleford said, horning her way into the conversation in her customarily pushy fashion. Faced with the columnist’s arrival, Bebe Noonan paled and melted into the crowd.

Usually, Joanna would have dreaded running into the re-porter in a social selling. Today was different. “We missed you at the luncheon the other day,” Joanna said sweetly. “I hope you’re feeling better.”

Marliss must have had something in mind as she approached Joanna and Bebe Noonan. Now, whatever it was_, seemed to disappear in unaccustomed confusion.

“Oh, yes,” she stammered uncomfortably. “I was sorry to miss it. I had a little touch of the flu, but I’m fine now.”

“Good,” Joanna said. “And have you heard Jeff and Marianne^’s good news?”

“What good news?” Marliss asked.

“Marianne left for San Francisco bright and early this morning. She’s going there to meet Jeff and the baby and bring them home.”

“Is that right?” Marliss Shackleford’s disinterest was unmistakable. She may have been in the news business, but good news wasn’t necessarily her bag.

“I’m planning a shower for them as soon as they get home,” Joanna continued cheerfully. “Probably sometime it the next week or so. I’ll let you know as soon as I decide when it’ll be. Maybe you can put a little announcement about it in your column.”

“Oh, no,” Marliss objected at once. “I couldn’t possibly do that.”

“You couldn’t?” Joanna asked. “Why not?”

“Marianne Maculyea is a personal friend of mine. I could never use my column in that way. Making a personal plea like that would be a violation of journalistic ethics-a conflict of interest. It just wouldn’t do at all. Now, if you’ll excuse me…^”

Joanne felt a certain amount of satisfaction as Marliss Shackleford slipped away from her. Going on the attack was a good way of dealing with some people.

“What was that all about?” Eleanor asked, appearing at Joanna’s elbow.

Eleanor Lathrop and Marliss Shackleford were part of the same bridge group and had been known to be thick as thieves on occasion. Here was a golden opportunity to drive a wedge between them. In the end, whether the devil made her do it or not, the temptation was too much for Joanna to resist.

“Actually, Mother,” she said confidentially, “Marliss was asking me about you.”

Eleanor Lathrop’s eyes widened. “About me? Really? Whatever for?”

Keeping her face straight, Joanna leaned closer to Eleanor. “She told me she’s heard some rumors about you. I told her she must be mistaken.”

“What kind of rumors?” Eleanor asked.

“About you and George Winfield. She said she’d heard that you and the coroner were planning on taking a short jaunt up to Vegas. I told her that was the most ridiculous thing I’d ever heard.”

For the first time in Joanna’s memory, an aghast Eleanor Lathrop was shocked into absolute silence.

“It is ridiculous, isn’t it?” Joanna pressed.

Nodding numbly, Eleanor finally regained the power of speech. “Of course it is,” she agreed. “Where do rumors like this start?”

“I can’t imagine,” Joanna said.

Across the room, she caught sight of Larry Matkin standing near the door. Their eyes met briefly, but then he looked away. His message had said he wanted to talk to her. Thinking now would be a good time. Joanna started moving in that direction. Several people stopped her along the way. By the time she reached the door, he was gone. She even walked out into the parking lot to try to catch him, but he was nowhere in sight.