Partner In Crime

He sat in brooding silence until they started up O.K. Street. “Dee’s still going through with it, isn’t she – the opening and raising the prices?”

“Yes,” Joa

Bobo slumped deeper into the seat. “Damn!” he said. “What about Shelley’s family? Have you found them yet?”

“Not so far. We’re working on it.”

“Once Dee sells the paintings, Shelley’s family will never be able to afford to buy them back.”

“Probably not,” Joa

He shook his head. “Not good enough.”

Joa

“I’m sorry about all this, Bobo,” she said at last. “I can see Shelley meant a lot to you.”

He chewed his lip, nodding but saying nothing.

“And I’m sorry to burden you further,” she added. “But we’re going to need your cooperation.”

“What kind?”

“We’ll want you to stop by the department and give us a set of prints. Detective Carbajal is tied up right now. As soon as he’s free, he’ll need to ask you a few questions.”

“You need my fingerprints? Why? I thought you said Shelley was sick.”

“She was sick,” Joa

“You’re saying someone killed her?” Bobo asked incredulously. “Who would have done such a thing? And why?”

“I can’t answer those questions, either,” Joa

“But you want my prints. Am I a suspect?”

“Not at all. Yours will be elimination prints. We print everyone who was known to have been at the crime scene prior to the event. That way we can sort prints that belong from those that don’t. From what you’ve told me, you may have been the last person to see Shelley alive.”

Bobo Jenkins nodded morosely. “I see,” he said. “Do I need to do that right away – the fingerprinting?”

“As soon as possible,” Joa

“Crime scene.” Bobo repeated the words and then took a deep breath. “Detectives. I can’t believe all this is happening. I can’t believe Shelley was murdered.”

“Bobo, we don’t know that for sure, either,” Joa

“No,” Bobo Jenkins declared. “Absolutely not! Whatever killed Shelley, it sure as hell wasn’t suicide!”

With that, he opened the car door, got out, and slammed it shut again. Joa

“It’s a very good likeness,” she said, once he was holding it upright so she could see it clearly. “Your Shelley must have been a very talented woman, and very special, too.”

As Bobo Jenkins looked down at the painting, his eyes filled with tears. He wiped them away with one end of the grubby towel that still dangled, unheeded, around his neck.

“Thank you for telling me about this, Joa

Joa

“And thanks for following me down to the gallery, too,” he continued. “I was so pissed off when I went down there that I might have done something stupid. I could have hurt somebody.”

Joa

“Thanks for that, too,” he said.

Carefully holding the painting in front of him, he angled his way through the gate and started up the stairs. Behind Joa

It was a tough way to start the day, considering she still hadn’t had her morning briefing or a second cup of coffee.

STANDING IN THE WARM LATE-MORNING SUN with the heavy pay phone receiver held to one ear, the man waited impatiently for his call to be put through. The receptionist had accepted the charges, so it wasn’t a matter of money. Still, he didn’t have all day.

Finally someone picked up at the other end. “Good,” he said when he heard the voice. “It’s you. You’ll be happy to know it’s done. She’s dead. All you have to do now is send money.”

Four

BY THE TIME JOANNA ARRIVED at the Justice Center and let herself in through her private back-door entrance, it was almost eleven o’clock. As usual, her office was a mess. The wooden surface of her desk was barely visible under stacks of neglected files and paper.

Organizing the Fallen Officer portion of Yolanda Cañedo’s funeral had taken far more of Joa

Wanting to have some quiet time to attack the daunting backlog of paper, Joa

“You scared me to death!” she exclaimed. “Why didn’t you tell me you were here?”

“Because my phone would have been ringing off the hook,” Joa

Kristin nodded and placed a neatly arranged stack of papers on the one part of the desk Joa

In the past two months, Kristin Gregovich had gone from being slightly pregnant to being profoundly pregnant. Her once showgirl-worthy ankles were now severely swollen by the end of each workday. The baby, a girl, wasn’t due for another three weeks, but Kristin, rubbing her aching back, was vocal about hoping to deliver sooner than that. On the other hand, money concerns made her want to stay on the job as long as possible.

Hearing Kristin’s sigh, Joa

Kristin nodded, but she didn’t look all right.

“Weren’t you supposed to see the doctor yesterday?” Joa

Kristin nodded again. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about, Sheriff Brady. We did go, Terry and I both.”

Terry Gregovich, Kristin’s husband, and Spike, his German shepherd, comprised the Cochise County Sheriff’s Department’s K-9 Unit.