Dead to Rights

“By her family, you mean,” Lydia said, sounding relieved more. “Not by a police officer. That would make her death unfortunate, of course, but it shouldn’t be a problem from the governor’s point of view.”

From the governor’s point of view!

“It should be,” Joa

Reaching out, Joa

“Way to go,” Dick Voland told her. “It’s not exactly how to go about wi

Tom Hadlock pushed his chair back and stood up. “Glad that little coming to God is over. Now, if you don’t mind, Sheriff Brady, I think I’ll go home and try to get some sleep.”

As Hadlock shuffled out of the room, Joa

Ernie leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes. He looked as though he was barely awake. “I’m here now,” he said. “I could just as well go to work on something. God knows there’s enough for me to do.” Joa

Turning to Voland, she realized that the sudden spurt of anger toward Governor Hickman’s deputy had helped clear her own head. “Anything from Patrol I should know about?” she asked.

“Dr. Lee dismissed Hal Morgan from the hospital a little while ago,” Voland answered. “According to Deputy Howell, he’s gone hack to his motel room, to the place he rented when he first came to town several days ago.”

After the intervening crisis with Ha

“What motel?” Joa

“The Rest I

“There’s still a deputy with him?”

“So far. Deputy Howell again.”

Joa

Ernie had been sitting there with his bloodshot eyes half-closed. Now they came open. “Why on earth would I want to talk to Helen Barco?”

Joa

Voland shook his head. “Sorry about that,” he said. “Things got so hectic around here that it must have slipped my mind.”

“What slipped your mind?” Ernie asked.

“Sheriff Brady is under the impression that Terry Buckwalter may have something going with Peter Wilkes, the golf pro out at the Rob Roy,” Voland said.

There was no sense in Joa

“I know they’re up to something,” Joa

Joa

Eager to make his escape, Voland stood up. “Not that can think of,” he said, heading for the door. “That shot’ dust about cover it.”

Once the chief deputy was gone, however, Ernie Carpenter made no move to get up. “I need to talk to you about this,” he said.

“About what?” Joa

Ernie sighed. “Look,” he said, “I’ll be happy to run out to the Rest I

“Why not?” Joa

There was a long pause. “Because she won’t speak to me,” Ernie Carpenter answered.

“She won’t speak to you? Of course she will. You’re detective. Talking to people is your job.”

Ernie considered for some time before he answerer “Years ago, I dated Helen’s daughter Molly. Did you ever hear anything about that?”

“No,” Joa

“Had, not has,” Ernie corrected. “And not many people do. Molly Barco and I went to high school together. We dated for a while. I was older than she was by a good three years. After graduation, I went away to college. That’s where I met Rose. It was love at first sight. The real thing, not just some kind of puppy love. When I came back to Bisbee at homecoming to break the news to Molly that Rose and I were going to get married, she more or less went haywire. She had always been a little on the wild side. She took off. Went to San Diego to live with her cousin. She died two months later, three months shy of her seventeenth birthday. A sailor on leave stabbed her to death just outside Balboa Park. He claimed she was a prostitute and that when she pulled a knife on him, he stabbed her in self-defense. He was tried, but he got off.”

“That’s why Helen Barco doesn’t speak to you?” Joa

“Helen has every right to blame me. I blame myself,” Ernie said. “Molly was an only child. She was young and sweet and vulnerable, and far more in love with me than I was with her.”

Joa

“That’s one of the reasons I became a cop,” Ernie continued. “And a detective, too. I always felt as though I owed Molly that much-to do what I could to help others, even though I couldn’t help her. I’ve run into Slim around town on occasion. He’s always civil, if not pleasant. Helen cuts me dead whenever she sees me. It would be useless for me to try to talk to her about Terry Buckwalter.”

The room grew still. “Should I go see her?” Joa

Ernie nodded. “That’s probably a good idea,” he said. “If you don’t mind, that is. Otherwise, I could ask Jaime Carbajal to do it, but I just sent the poor guy home to get some shut eye himself.”

“I don’t mind,” Joa

Ernie Carpenter stood up and gave Joa

Once back in her office, Joa

Curious, Joa