Dead Wrong

Chapter 5

Dealing with Margaret and Donald Dixon made for a very long evening. Don Dixon wasn’t all that bad. Margaret, though, was something else. Prior to meeting Butch’s mother, Joa

In other words, Margaret Leona Dixon was a ring-tailed bitch. Her sole purpose in life seemed to be cutting everyone else down to size, starting with but not limited to the shortcomings of her own son. Butch’s geographical cure to his mother’s perpetually negative attitude had been to migrate from Chicago to Arizona, and he had done so without looking back. He hadn’t seen his parents in years when they had unexpectedly shown up in the days prior to Joa

Now they were back. Without Butch there to run interference, they were back in spades. The RV park down by the country club was already filled to the brim with migrating snowbirds, so the Dixons’ immense motor home was now parked next to Butch’s garage, with a long orange extension cord providing power. Joa

For that Saturday evening, the Dixons’ sole saving grace was that they both liked Mexican food. Chico‘s Taco Stand, south of Bisbee’s Don Luis neighborhood, wasn’t long on atmosphere. Its recycled fifties vintage red vinyl booths and serve-yourself counter-based food service didn’t measure up to Margaret’s high-end expectations, but the food was unarguably good. Even good food, however, wasn’t enough to lessen the venom in Margaret’s ru

“With the baby due in the next few days,” she said, toying with her paper plate loaded with peppery carne asada, “I simply can’t imagine why Butch would run off to El Paso like this. It makes no sense. It’s inexcusable.”

“His publisher wanted him to go,” Joa

“Honor or not, it’s irresponsible for him to leave you alone like this, especially in your condition. Besides, I don’t see why it’s such a big deal,” Margaret replied. “His book is only a mystery, isn’t it? After all, it’s not as though it’s a real book.”

“It is too a real book,” Je

“Well, of course it would have a cover,” Margaret conceded.

“All books have covers. But I belong to two book clubs-one in Chicago in the summer and one in Hot Springs, Arkansas, in the winter, and we don’t read mysteries. Ever. They’re just too…too…

Fun? Joa

“Too light,” Margaret finished at last. “Not enough literary merit. I’m sure you know what I mean.”

“Yes,” Joa

“But of course,” Margaret added, “if you’re going to make money, I suppose you have to write the kind of thing that appeals to the unwashed masses.” Then, without the slightest pause, she turned her full attention on Je

“Eighth,” Je

“And are you still as horse-crazy as you used to be, or have you outgrown that nonsense? Being a tomboy is usually just a stage, you know. Most girls, unless they’re odd or lesbians or something, do outgrow it sooner or later.”

Not waiting for Je

It was Margaret’s turn to look pained. “A rodeo scholarship for girls?” she asked. “I’ve never heard of such a thing. Only schools out here in the Wild West would do that. None of the schools in Chicago gives out rodeo scholarships.”

At that juncture, Joa

“What have you got?” she asked.

“A big fat nothing,” Jaime returned. “You’re probably right about her, Sheriff Brady. A

It was gratifying for Joa

“You’ve issued an APB on the vehicle?” she asked.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And you’ve been through Evans’s place?”

“Yes,” Jaime replied. “That’s where we spent most of the day. Evans’s landlady was real coy about not letting anyone into his place without our having a valid search warrant in hand.”

“And?”

“Believe me,” Jaime returned, “it’s not a crime scene. Nothing out of place. No sign of a struggle. The place was locked when we arrived and it was clean as a whistle. Dishes were all washed and put away. Dirty clothes were in a hamper. Everything else was either hung up or folded. A well-thumbed Bible was in the middle of the kitchen table. It reminded me of a room in a monastery.”

“Did he have a computer?” Joa

“Nope. Evans was evidently a low-tech kind of guy. Just to cover the bases, I’ve made arrangements for Casey Ledford to come down here tomorrow and dust for prints, but I’m guessing the only prints we’re going to find will belong to Bradley Evans himself.”

“Did he have a girlfriend?” Joa

“We checked with the neighbors and the landlady on that. If he did have a girl pal, he was mighty cagey about it because nobody mentioned seeing a woman coming or going. And there’s nothing in the apartment that indicates that a woman has ever even visited the place-the bed in the bedroom is definitely a single.”

“Anything else?” Joa

“That’s about it.”

“It sounds like both you and Ernie have put in a long day,” Joa

“Okay,” Jaime said.

Joa

“What?”

“Carole A