Exit Wounds - J. A. Jance [42]
Frank nodded. “Yes, unfortunately. It wasn’t pretty.”
“She was upset?”
“I’ll say, and who could blame her? The thing is, she wanted to know what we’d done to Richard. I told her we hadn’t done a thing, but she didn’t believe it. Her father was there, and he wasn’t much help, either. You do know who the father is, don’t you?” Frank asked. “Gabriel Gomez?”
“I heard the name last night,” Joanna said. “It sounded familiar, but at the time I couldn’t place it. Who is he?”
“Gabriel Gomez is an attorney in Douglas. Specializes in immigration law. By the time I left their house last night, he was threatening to sue the department for wrongful death on his daughter’s behalf.”
“How can they do that?” Joanna asked. “We still don’t have any idea of who or what killed Richard Osmond.”
“You know that, and I know that, boss, but Papa Gomez is an attorney. You don’t really expect him to wait around for the dust to settle, do you? His strategy is to sue first and ask questions later.”
“Great,” Joanna said. “That’s just what I need to hear first thing in the morning.”
The door to Joanna’s office shot open and Joanna’s secretary bounded into the room, brandishing a copy of The Bisbee Bee over her head.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she demanded. “Were you planning on keeping it a secret?”
“Keeping what a secret?” Joanna asked.
“That you’re expecting. It says so right here. In Marliss Shackleford’s column.”
Kristin held out the paper, and Joanna snatched it out of her hand. The Bee was already opened to Marliss’s column, “Bisbee Buzzings.” For Frank Montoya’s benefit, Joanna read the item aloud.
An unnamed source close to Cochise County Sheriff Joanna Brady tells us that the sheriff and her husband, Butch Dixon, could be in a family way. There’s no telling how the potential patter of little feet will affect Sheriff Brady’s current bid for reelection against former Cochise county deputy sheriff, Kenneth W. Galloway.
Motherhood, apple pie, and baby showers could get in the way of politics as usual, but at this point Sheriff Brady evidently has no intention of dropping out of the race.
That was all there was to the item, but by the time Joanna finished reading the two paragraphs, her voice was choked with fury. So much for her plan of giving Marliss Shackleford the kind of well-aimed, exclusive piece that might have allowed Joanna to control both timing and content. Here it was, set loose into the world in a way that was bound to do as much damage as possible. The general public would probably assume, just as Kristin Gregovich had, that Joanna had intended to keep her condition secret up to election day or even longer.
Livid, Joanna turned her ire on Frank. “You didn’t give her this, did you?” she demanded.
“No, ma’am,” Frank said. “Absolutely not. I didn’t breathe a word of it.”
“I didn’t think so. Unnamed source, my ass. It has to be my mother, then. Eleanor’s the only other person Butch and I have told. Too bad for me, she and Marliss have always been the best of pals.”
With words of congratulation dying on her lips, Kristin retreated from Joanna’s office. Frank Montoya followed, closing the door behind him as he went. The door was barely shut by the time Joanna had the telephone receiver in hand and was dialing George and Eleanor Winfield’s number.
“Mother?” Joanna said stiffly as soon as Eleanor answered the phone.
“My goodness, you’re certainly up and about early this morning,” Eleanor responded brightly.
“I’m calling about the piece in the paper,” Joanna said, struggling to keep her voice level.
“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.