Devil’s Claw

“No wonder Eleanor doesn’t bother you,” Joa

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you all along,” Butch said with a rueful grin. “I told you that you just didn’t know when you were well off.”

Je

“In a minute,” Butch called back, then he turned to Joa

“I’m fine, really,” Joa

“That was before she caught sight of my mother’s hefty backside,” Butch said. “I think the thought of Mother sitting on one of Eleanor’s fine dining room chairs was enough to spark an instant change of menu and venue both. That’s also about the time Eleanor decided to invite Jim Bob and Eva Lou along for the ride. I think she hoped they’d serve as leavening agents, but when I met Eva Lou on her way inside a few minutes ago, even she looked like she’d had enough.”

“How do you tolerate her?” Joa

Butch shrugged. “I live in Arizona, and my parents live in Chicago,” he said. Behind them, Joa

By the time Joa

“How are the love birds doing?” he asked, as Joa

“Fine,” Butch and Joa

“Sure you are,” George agreed. “For somebody getting the third degree, you’re both in great shape. Hey, would you two like to sit inside? My guess is the picnic table is already full to overflowing.”

It was true. Six was the maximum number of diners that could be accommodated at the wooden outdoor table. “But won’t Eleanor be pissed?” Joa

“Let her,” George said with a shrug. “After all, doing di

In the end, the three of them settled at the kitchen table. The food was good. The tamales were thick and spicy. The tortillas were soft and see-through thin. And the strips of ancho-flavored steak had been grilled to spicy perfection. Until Joa

“Your old friend Fran Daly was in town today,” George said at last when he paused from eating long enough to unwrap the corn husks from his tamale.

Dr. Daly was the assistant medical examiner in neighboring Pima County. In the course of the past few years she and Joa

“What for?” Joa

“She showed up to be Reba Singleton’s hired gun,” George Winfield replied.

“To do Clayton Rhodes’ autopsy?” Joa

“Pretty much the way I said it would,” George replied. “Fran Daly says the same thing I did-Clayton Rhodes died as a result of a cerebral hemorrhage. That should get Reba off your back for good and all. And now that I’ve released the body and Little Norm Higgins from the funeral home has collected it, Reba should be off my back, too.”

“When’s the funeral?” Joa

“According to Little Norm, they’ve scheduled it for tomorrow at two. Reba says she wants to have it ASAP so she can get back home to California, which is good riddance as far as I’m concerned.” He added, “And while we’re on the subject of autopsies, I know what killed Sandra Ridder-loss of blood combined with peritonitis. If the Volksmarchers had found her in the morning and she’d been treated with massive doses of antibiotics, she might have made it. But as it was…” George shrugged.

Joa

“Will you be going to Clayton’s funeral?” he asked Joa

She nodded. “Yes, of course I am.”

“And Je

“I don’t know. I’ll leave that up to her. When we first talked about it, I know she was pla

“I want to take the folks out sight-seeing tomorrow,” Butch said. “It’s better than having my mother prowling around my house all day, looking through drawers and opening my cupboards. Besides, they’ve never been in southern Arizona. I wanted to show them the sights-the Wonderland of Rocks, Boot Hill, maybe even Kartchner Caverns.”

“Sounds like a big day.”

Butch nodded. “I’m hoping to wear them out. Maybe that way they’ll be ready to go back out to the park at a decent hour in order to get some sleep. But if I have to be back in time to take care of Je

“Don’t worry about Je

“Good,” Butch said. “That’s one less thing for me to worry about.”

Just then Eleanor stormed into the kitchen. “Just what do you three think you’re doing hiding out in here?”

“Eating,” George replied mildly.

“But the company is outside,” Eleanor huffed. “We’re all supposed to be out there together, so we can get better acquainted.”

“I’m sure Butch knows his parents well enough,” George returned. “But Joa

Eleanor’s face fell. “You weren’t really, were you, George?” She turned to Butch. “Is he telling me the truth? Were they really talking about autopsies at the di

Butch sighed and shook his head. “I’m sorry to say they were, Eleanor. I swear to God!”

“Well!” she exclaimed. “I never!”

With that, Eleanor Winfield turned and flounced back outside, missing Butch’s grin and George Winfield’s answering wink. “I’ll pay for that later,” he said. “But it was worth it.”

By then, though, Joa

“Naw,” George said. “Don’t worry. Those two have been around. They’re perfectly capable of taking care of themselves.”