Exit Wounds - J. A. Jance [89]
“In a while,” Joanna replied. “But first I want to help Grandma Brady with the dishes. What’s the hurry?”
Joanna made a face. “It’s boring here,” she said. “Besides, Cassie and I want to go riding.”
At thirteen, Jenny was taller than her mother, although her fast-growing string-bean limbs had yet to fill out. It seemed only days ago when nothing had made Jenny happier than spending a long summer afternoon in the company of her paternal grandparents. Those days were gone.
Joanna glanced at the sky, where the threatening clouds had grown even darker while she had been on the phone.
“You can’t go riding, Jenny. It’s going to rain.”
Jenny sighed, made another face, and flounced back into the house. When Joanna returned to the kitchen, she discovered that Butch had beaten her to the punch as far as doing dishes was concerned. The dishwasher was loaded and he was cleaning the last of the pots and pans by hand.
“Looks like I dodged KP,” she said.
“Again,” Butch said.
They went home shortly after that. Jenny, still in a huff, closeted herself in her room. Butch and Joanna spent the remainder of Sunday afternoon in relative quiet. They were halfway through 60 Minutes when the phone rang.
“Here we go again,” Butch said as he rose to answer it. “I knew this was too good to last. Oh, hi there, George,” he said into the phone. “No, hang on. She’s right here.”
“What’s going on?” Joanna said to Doc Winfield.
“We’ve got a problem with Ed Mossman.”
“Ed Mossman?” Joanna said. “Carol’s father? I thought he was in Mexico. As far as I know, he hasn’t even been notified.”
“He’s been notified, all right,” George Winfield observed. “And he’s on the warpath.”
“What about?”
“According to the grandmother, she was Carol’s next of kin. At her direction, I had made arrangements for the body to be released to Higgins Funeral Chapel in the morning. Edith wants Carol to be buried here in Bisbee. Ed Mossman claims he’s making arrangements to ship the body back down to Mexico. Not only that, when he called here to the house, he was rude to your mother and downright abusive to me. He even threatened his own mother.”
“He threatened Edith?”
“That’s right. He said she’s already caused enough trouble between him and his daughters and he’s not going to stand for her keeping him away from Carol now that she’s dead. He wants her buried next to her mother in the family plot in Obregón.”
“Wanting to bury his daughter next to her mother is fine,” Joanna said. “Threatening Edith Mossman isn’t. What did you tell him?”
“To come by the office tomorrow morning. He said he’d be there at nine.”
“I will be, too,” Joanna said.
“There is one other thing,” George Winfield added.
“What’s that?”
“Speaking of next of kin, has anyone done anything to locate Carol Mossman’s child?”
“What child?” Joanna asked.
“I take it you haven’t read my autopsy report?”
“I’ve been a little pressed for time,” Joanna returned. “What child?”
“Carol Mossman bore at least one child,” George said. “It was delivered by C-section. She also had a complete hysterectomy. From the scarring, I’d say both the C-section and hysterectomy were done at the same time by a surgeon who wasn’t exactly the head of his class.”
“It was bad?”
“Let’s just say it was unskilled,” George said. “And as bad as the hysterectomy was, it’s likely that the child didn’t survive, but we should clarify the situation just to be on the safe side. If you want me to, I can call Edith Mossman and ask her.”
“No,” Joanna said. “She’s been through enough. I’ll ask Eddie Mossman about it myself in the morning.”
She put down the phone. Butch had muted the television set. Andy Rooney’s mouth was moving, but no words could be heard.
“A looming funeral battle?” Butch asked.
Joanna nodded.
Butch shook his head. “I hate it when that happens. Funeral fights are the worst. My grandparents both wanted to be buried in Sun City. Gramps hated Chicago. He told me once that the last thing he wanted was to spend eternity buried under drifts of Chicago snow and ice.