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Once in her car, Joa
Inside, she sat down at her desk, kicked off her shoes, and closed her eyes for a moment before punching the intercom button. “I’m here, Kristin,” she said. “You might as well bring in today’s mail.”
When Kristin brought in the stack of mail, Joa
Dear Morn,
It rained today, but we had fun anyway. Wish you were here. Hello to the G’s.
Love, Je
Joa
“Hello, Mother,” Joa
“I just had the strangest call from that little friend of yours. You know who I mean. That blonde girl-Angie Kellogg.”
“What kind of call?”
“She wanted to know where in Bisbee she could buy Wedgwood. I told her I didn’t know of anyplace at all anymore, but why did she want to know? She says her boyfriend broke a piece of his Kutani Crane china. The set was a gift from the young man’s grandmother. Angie is trying to find a way to replace it. Do you believe that?”
“That Angie would want to replace something that’s broken? That doesn’t surprise me at all. She’s a very kindhearted-”
“I know Angie’s kindhearted,” Eleanor Lathrop agreed irritably. “What I want to know is where in the world would she find somebody who has a set of Wedgwood china. Not only that, she says he uses it for everyday!”
“She found him up in the mountains,” Joa
“Wedgwood for everyday,” Eleanor repeated morosely. “Now, why couldn’t you find someone like that?”
Smiling, Joa
“I guess,” Joa
“I suppose some bald-headed, twice-divorced motorcycle rider is?”
Over the past several months, Frederick “Butch” Dixon had made several trips to Bisbee on his Goldwing. Each time, Eleanor had been quick to voice her disapproval, which, Joa
“He isn’t bald,” she said now. “He shaves his head.”
“If you ask me”-Eleanor sniffed-”it’s the same thing.” Fortunately, the intercom buzzed again just then, saving the conversation from deteriorating any further. “Adam York is on line one,” Kristin a
“Sorry, Mother,” Joa
“What kind of trading mood are you in?” he asked.
“Trading? What do you mean?”
“I just got off the phone with Arlee Jones…” Adam began.
“The Cochise County Attorney?” Joa
“Settle down, Joa
“Are you talking plea bargain here? If you are-”
“All the man wants is a guarantee that Jones won’t seek an aggravated first-degree murder conviction, that we most likely wouldn’t be able to win anyway. If you’ll agree to that, I’m pretty sure I can get Meadows to give us a signed confession. In addition, he’ll turn state’s evidence. From what he’s said so far, I’m betting that, with his help, I’ll be able to put Marco Marcovich away for a long time. We’ll both come up wi
Sitting there, staring out the window at the su
“That’s the only thing we’ll be conceding here-we won’t ask for the death penalty?”
“The only thing.”
“And what does Arlee Jones say?”
“That whatever you say goes.”
“Get the confession,” Joa
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
About four o’clock in the afternoon, still watching the clock and waiting for the fax to come in, Joa
“I believe Ernie Carpenter or Jaime brought in another journal either last night or this morning,” she told Buddy Richards. “It’ll be one similar to the one I looked at yesterday. It’s part of the Aaron Meadows investigation.”
“What about it?” Buddy asked.
“I’d like to take a look at it.”
Shaking his head in disapproval and mumbling objections under his breath, Buddy found the journal. He handed it over only after making doubly sure the paperwork was properly signed and documented.
Back in her office, Joa
I’m sorry Nacio isn’t here tonight with me, but that’s one of the things I love about him-he’s dependable. With his aunt in the hospital, his family needs…
The journal ended in mid-sentence, leaving Joa
Fighting back tears and swallowing the lump in her throat, Joa
As she worked her way backward through the journal, though, Joa
Closing the book, Joa