Exit Wounds - J. A. Jance [100]
“Their religion?” Joanna asked.
“That, too,” Edith agreed. “And they need a lot of help as they start over. For one thing, they’ve led terribly sheltered and mostly isolated lives, so they don’t know much about the outside world. That’s where God’s Angels come in. They have programs for fleeing wives and for fleeing children, too. I believe that’s the one Andrea is most involved with—the one for children.”
“Your granddaughter is part of this group?”
“Andrea has always been the smart one in the family. She has a full-time job and goes to school part-time. But on the side, she volunteers as a God’s Angels sponsor. That means she counsels individual women and whatever children they may have brought with them when they ran away. She tries to help the women gain a toehold on life away from their former lifestyle. Otherwise they’re in danger of going back.”
“They’re like refugees,” Joanna observed.
“Pretty much,” Edith agreed.
There was a short pause in the conversation during which both women concentrated on their food. Joanna moved her sandwich around on the plate rather than eating much of it.
“If Andrea is part of that group,” Joanna began, “what about Stella?”
“Oh, no. Not Stella. She found herself a husband—a very nice husband, by the way. She’s always been the strong one. She’s not big on support groups, either. Once she made up her mind to, she put all that other business behind her. I think Andrea tried to get her to help out with some of the God’s Angels programs, but Stella wasn’t interested. She said she was over it, and she wanted to stay that way.”
Joanna decided to switch subjects. “What did your son do for Phelps Dodge when he worked there?” she asked.
“Drove a truck,” Edith answered at once. “Those big dump trucks they used to haul waste from the pit out to the tailings dump.”
“He never worked in the General Office?”
“Oh, no. Are you kidding? Eddie Mossman never had an office job in his life. He didn’t have the education for a desk job, to say nothing of the mind-set.”
“What about your daughter-in-law?”
“Cynthia? The poor girl was a mousy little thing who never worked outside the home. If she had—if she’d had a job and money of her own—maybe she could have left Eddie just like some of those other women are doing, but back then, there wouldn’t have been anyone like God’s Angels to help her. As far as Cynthia was concerned, Eddie was the head of the family, and his word was law. She did as she was told. If I’d had any idea about what was really going on, I would have tried to do something, but I didn’t know. Not at the time. Not until it was too late to do any good. But why are you asking about Eddie’s job? What does his job with PD have to do with any of this?”
Joanna wasn’t prepared to reveal details about the unusual weapon information that had telegraphed the connection between Carol Mossman’s death and the murders in New Mexico.
“Just wondering,” she said. A moment later she added, “When did you first hear that your son was in town?”
“Yesterday,” Edith said. “Yesterday afternoon. He phoned and ordered me to call the mortuary and tell them that Carol’s body should be released to him rather than to me. I told him to go fly a kite, that I’d already made the arrangements. He said I couldn’t do that, that she was his daughter and he’d have the final say. I told him to go ahead and try.”
“Did he happen to mention how he found out about Carol’s murder?”
“No.”
“Or when he came to town?”
“No. He didn’t tell me that, either. You have to understand, Sheriff Brady, it wasn’t a pleasant phone call. He was yelling at me the whole time, and I was yelling right back.”
It was time for Joanna to ask the critical question straight out. “Mrs. Mossman,” Joanna said, “do you think it’s possible that your son murdered his own daughter?”
“You mean, do I think Eddie killed Carol?” Edith shook her head. “No, I doubt that’s possible, but I almost