Dead Wrong

“Which makes her a possible stalking victim and a possible homicide suspect,” Joa

“For right now, we’d better take the victim option,” Jaime said. “If we even acknowledge that she could be a suspect-”

“Exactly,” Joa

“Did you have any luck tracking down whoever bought primer over the weekend?” Ernie asked Debbie.

She shook her head. “I spent all day on this.”

“That’s all right,” Ernie said. “Tomorrow will be plenty of time to do that.”

For a change Joa

But somewhere along the line Brad Evans had met up with someone who hadn’t liked him nearly as well as other people did. This unknown person had disliked Evans enough not just to kill him but to mutilate his body as well.

How much do you have to hate someone, Joa

“Well,” Margaret Dixon asked impatiently, “what do you think?”

Joa

“Dessert,” he said quickly. “What do you think about dessert?”

Joa

Not wanting to disturb Butch, she and Lady abandoned the bedroom. For a while, Joa

Joa

Putting the computer aside, Joa

Some of them were old history texts. D. H. Lathrop had been a self-taught history buff. She remembered him regaling her with stories of the Old West, and it didn’t surprise Joa

He may have started out there as a deputy, but he had worked his way up through the ranks until eventually he had been elected sheriff. Just seeing the books he had used to accomplish that transformation gave Joa

Joa

She opened the first page. It was yellow and brittle to the touch, but her father’s distinctive handwriting leaped out at her.

“Work,” the entry dated March 1964 read. “I hate it. I hate working in the mine. I hate being dirty. I hate the dust and the dark. Fell in a stope today. It’s a wonder I didn’t break my neck. I don’t know how long I can keep this up, but I promised Ellie…”

Joa

“… that I would support her until death do us part. And I will. A promise is a promise.”

And there it was. Joa

For the very first time, it occurred to Joa

Eleanor isn’t perfect, Joa

Closing the book, Joa

Joa

She jumped. “You startled me,” she said. “I couldn’t sleep. I didn’t want to disturb you, so Lady and I came in here.”

“Your father’s books?” Butch asked.

Joa

“What are you going to do with them?”

“Keep them,” Joa

“I know that. I guess, I meant, where are you going to keep them? My mother isn’t the only one who might pay your office an unauthorized visit. Your mother wouldn’t be above doing some snooping, either.”

In the end, they stowed all of the books in the bottom drawer of Joa

“This is silly, you know,” she said. “After all, it’s our house.”

Butch straightened up and looked at her. “How much luck have you had changing your mother’s behavior?” he asked.

“None.”

“Same thing with my mother,” he said. “So let’s just deal with it-and keep the door locked. Now come to bed. It’s going to be another long day tomorrow.”