Partner In Crime

Joa

“Nice place,” she said. “But how on earth did you get this furniture up here?”

“I didn’t beam it up, if that’s what you mean.” He gri

Joa

“What’s going on?” he asked, perching on the arm of the couch.

“I’m sorry to have to do this,” she began. “I understand you’re good friends with a woman named Rochelle Baxter. Is that true?”

“With Shelley? Of course it’s true. And I hope we’re a little more than friends,” he added. A concerned frown crossed his face. “Why are you asking me about her? Has something happened?”

Joa

The big man’s mahogany-colored skin faded to gray. “No!” he exclaimed. “That’s impossible!”

Joa

Bobo buried his face in the towel. “Shelley, dead?” he murmured. “I can’t believe it. She was fine when I left her – perfectly fine. What happened?”

“We don’t know,” Joa

Joa

His face contorted by anguish, Bobo shook his head wordlessly.

“You said she was fine when you left her,” Joa

Bobo nodded.

“What time?”

“I don’t know exactly,” he answered. “Fairly early. It couldn’t have been much later than seven or so. I was back here by seven-thirty.”

“What was the purpose of your visit?”

Bobo sighed. “Shelley and I were supposed to have di

“You say she canceled. What time was that?” Joa

“What time did she call?”

Joa

“Sometime in the afternoon. I don’t remember exactly when. I erased the message after I listened to it.”

“And why did she?” Joa

“You mean was she sick?” Bobo asked.

Joa

“Sick, but not physically,” he said ruefully. “Sick of me is more like it. Still, when I showed up at her place in Naco, she invited me in and offered me a drink. We talked for a little while. She tried to give me the brush-off. Told me she needed time for herself – time by herself. I was afraid she was going to break up with me right then and there, but I talked her out of it. The last thing before I left, she agreed to have di

“You parted on good terms?”

“Of course.” Bobo Jenkins frowned. “Wait a minute. What about that opening? Somebody needs to call Dee Canfield right away and tell her what’s happened.”

“She already knows,” Joa

“She’s going to cancel, right?”

“I don’t think so. She said she intended to go through with the opening after all. The only difference is she plans to raise the prices.”

“Raise the prices? What do you mean?”

Joa

Bobo Jenkins stood up abruptly. “What is she, some kind of vulture? What the hell is Dee Canfield thinking? You’ll have to excuse me, Joa

He went to the door and held it open, motioning Joa

“What’s the hurry?” Joa

“To Castle Rock Gallery,” he told her determinedly. “I’m going to go have a heart-to-heart chat with Deidre Canfield.”

“Wait, Bobo,” Joa

He ignored her. Without bothering to lock the door, he pulled it shut behind them and loped off down the steep flight of stairs that led to the street. Standing alone on the small porch, Joa

Stu

Sheriff Joa

Not good, Joa

Bobo Jenkins was completely out of sight by the time Joa

“Sheriff Brady here,” she gasped when she heard the voice of Larry Kendrick, her lead dispatcher. “I’m on my way to Castle Rock Gallery. Please advise Bisbee PD that I may need backup.”

“What’s the problem, Sheriff?” Larry asked. “You sound like you’ve been ru

“Not miles, just up and down Youngblood Hill,” she told him. “I just finished telling Bobo Jenkins that Rochelle Baxter is dead. He’s upset with a woman named Deidre Canfield and is on his way to her place of business, Castle Rock Gallery on Main Street in Old Bisbee. Bobo said he was going to talk to her, but he was really off the charts when he left here. I’d say he’s more likely to punch somebody’s lights out. I’m headed there, too.”

By then the Civvie was on the move. Joa

Deidre Canfield’s place of business consisted of a series of small, formerly ramshackle buildings that looked invitingly renovated when Joa

As she pushed open the door to the gallery, a tiny bell tinkled overhead, but neither Dee Canfield nor Bobo Jenkins noticed. Across the room they stood locked in a fierce, nose-to-nose confrontation.

“You’ve got no right barging in here and telling me what I can and can’t do,” Dee shouted shrilly. “This is my gallery. The contract is between Rochelle Baxter and me. It has nothing to do with you, Bobo Jenkins. The terms of that contract allow me to set, raise, or lower prices as I see fit.”