Desert Heat

TWELVE

Still outraged at Detective Carpenter^’s blunt insinuation of infidelity, Joanna churned gravel in the yard as she headed for town. Navigating as if on rails, the Eagle followed its usual route straight to her office with Joanna so engrossed in inner turmoil that she barely glanced at the now-empty wash as she sped along High Lonesome Road.

The Davis Insurance Agency, originally a father-and-son operation, had been a fixture on Arizona Street for thirty years, and the latest in Milo Davis’ long succession of Buicks al-ways occupied the front corner parking place. As office manager, Joanna usually parked in the spot next to his, but today that place was taken by a silver Taurus with government plates.

Adam York from the DEA. What the hell is he doing here? Joanna wondered. She pulled into the nearest parking place, several spaces away, and stormed into the office.

Lisa Connors, the receptionist, looked up in surprise when Joanna appeared at her desk. “Joanna, I’m so sorry about Andy, but I didn’t expect to see you today. What are you doing here?”

Joanna ignored the question. “Where is he?” she demanded.

“The guy from the DEA?” Joanna nodded. Lisa rolled her eyes and gestured toward Milo ’s private office. “He’s been in with Mr. Davis for half an hour or so. You still haven’t told me what you’re doing here,” she continued. “Mr. Davis said you’d be out for at least a week.”

“I just stopped by for a few minutes,” Joanna answered. “There are at least three applications that should have gone out yesterday, and they all need special underwriting memos. I’ll be leaving again as soon as those are taken care of.”

The phone rang. While Lisa answered it, Joanna hurried to her own desk, picked up the files, and quickly began keying the necessary memos into her computer, all the while conscious of the unintelligible rumble of voices emanating from behind Milo ’s closed door. She completed writing the memos and was printing the last of the three when the front door opened and Eleanor Lathrop burst into the room. She rushed past Lisa’s desk and came straight to Joanna, reproach written on her face.

“I was driving past and saw your car out-side. What in the world are you doing at work today?” Eleanor demanded. “What will people think?”

“I have a job,” Joanna returned evenly. “People will think I’m doing it.”

Through the years Joanna had learned to shrug off most of Eleanor’s constant criticism. She had trained herself to disregard her mother’s steady barrage of pointed remarks which covered everything from Joanna’s poor choice of husbands to the fact that her daughter insisted on working outside the home. Oblivious to current economic reality, Eleanor Lathrop made no bones about disapproving of working mothers-all working mothers. She maintained that God intended for families to live within their means, and “means” meant whatever the husband brought home, regardless of how much or how little that might be.

This time Joanna wasn’t quite strong enough to simply ignore the jibe, and her cool reply left Eleanor flustered. “Well, if you’re here, where’s Jenny? With the Bradys, I suppose?”

“She’s at school,” Joanna answered.

The look of aghast dismay that flashed across Eleanor’s face was almost worth the price of admission. Joanna bit back a smile while Eleanor clutched dramatically at her throat.

“No. That can’t be.”

“It is. I gave her a choice,” Joanna returned. “I told her she could either go to school or stay home, it was up to her. She chose to go.”

“Children Jenny’s age aren’t old enough to have good sense. They have no business making choices like that. How could you…”

Just then the door to Milo ’s office opened and Adam York emerged, walked briskly through the reception area and out into the street.

“Excuse me, Mother,” Joanna said. Abandoning Eleanor to her uncharacteristic shocked silence, Joanna trailed York out the door, catching up with him in the parking lot when 1w stopped to unlock the Taurus.

“What seems to be the problem, Mr. York?” she asked.

He turned toward her with a startled expression on his face. “I didn’t expect to see you here today,” he said.

“Neither did anyone else,” she returned crisply. “What I want to know is, why are you here? Are you here checking on me or my husband?”

“We’re conducting an investigation,” he said in an answer that was less than no answer at all.

“What exactly is it about us you’d like to know, Mr. York? Maybe, if you asked me directly, I could tell you what you want to know. You’d get your information right from the horse’s mouth instead of sneaking around behind my back.”

“It’s no big thing really,” York acknowledged with a shrug. “Routine inquiries about your insurance situation, although I must say your friend Mr. Davis wasn’t particularly helpful.”

Joanna squared her shoulders. “There is such a thing as client confidentiality,” she declared. “It’s no wonder Milo wouldn’t tell you anything. He can’t, but I can. What would you like to know, Mr. York? That I’m the owner and beneficiary of a $150,000 policy on my husband’s life? I am. The policy is seven years old, five years beyond the two-year contestability period. In other words, the death benefit is payable regardless of cause of death.”

York looked at her under raised eyebrows. “Including suicide?”

She nodded. York removed a small note-book from his coat pocket and made a quick notation. “What about accidental death?” he asked.

“That too,” Joanna replied. “The accidental death benefit doesn’t apply in the case of suicide but it does for homicide.”

“Oh, I see,” York said. “How interesting.” He acted as though that bit of information was new to him, although Joanna was certain he knew better. For a long moment they stood together in the parking lot while York seemed engrossed in studying what he’d written in the notebook. Finally he glanced up at her.

“Three hundred thousand dollars,” he mused shrewdly. “That seems like a considerable amount of insurance for someone in your financial situation, isn’t it, Joanna?”

Her green eyes narrowed dangerously. “Mr. York,” she said tersely. “I work for a company that sells life insurance. If I sold Tupperware, I might own more Tupperware. If I sold Mary Kay Cosmetics, I might wear more makeup. There’s also a policy on me that would have gone to Andy had our situations been reversed.”

York shook his head and pocketed the notebook. “If you’ll pardon my saying it, Joanna, m somewhat surprised you can talk about all is in such a cold-blooded manner.”

He had started opening the door. In a burst of fury she slammed it shut under his hand.

“What exactly is that supposed to mean?”

“Sorry, if I offended you,” he apologized.

“The hell you’re sorry! You’re implying that I had something to do with Andy’s death, aren’t you.’

York looked at her in mock bemusement. “Did I say that? I don’t remember mentioning anything of the kind.”

Some women become shrill when they’re angry or upset. Joanna Brady’s voice dropped to an icy whisper. “I’d check with the Tucson police, if I were you, Mr. York. Check out the preliminary autopsy results. When you do, I believe you’ll find you owe me an apology.”

He frowned. “How is it that someone like you has immediate access to those kinds of reports?” he asked.

“It doesn’t matter how,” she countered. “What matters is that I do!”

With that, she spun on her heels and marched back into the office where she found her mother standing by the window, peering through the blinds at the Taurus backing out of its parking place.

“Who’s that man?” Eleanor asked. “Is he really with the DEA?”

“That’s what he says,” Joanna answered grimly, “although I’m not so sure he’s telling the truth.”

“Why was he here? What did he want with you?”

“That I couldn’t say, but don’t be surprised if he comes back asking to talk with you.”

“Me?” Eleanor echoed. “What would some-one from the DEA want from me?”

Suddenly aware of a pounding headache, Joanna pressed her fingers to her throbbing temples. “Listen to me, Mother. Do you remember telling me about a doctor, one who went into Andy’s room just before he died?”

“There were so many,” Eleanor responded dubiously.

Joanna shook her head. “No, you mentioned one in particular, one who came through the waiting room and told you everything was fine just minutes before the alarms went off.”

“Oh, him,” Eleanor breathed.

“Yes, him. What did he look like?”

“Margaret and I were watching television. I’m not sure I remember.”

“Try,” Joanna urged. “Did he introduce himself? Was he wearing a name tag?”

“How do you expect me to come up with those kinds of details? After all, I only saw him for a minute or so.”

“It’s very important,” Joanna said with dogged patience. “Can you tell me anything at all about him-what he looked like, what he was wearing? How did you know he was a doctor?^”

Eleanor closed her eyes as if trying to picture the man. “He had on one of those long white coats, the kind all those doctors wear.”

“And a stethoscope? Did he have one of those?”

“Maybe, maybe not.” Eleanor shrugged. “I don’t remember.”

“What did he look like?”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Joanna! I already told you. I only saw the man for a minute. What does it matter?^”

“It matters a great deal, Mother,” Joanna insisted firmly. “Try to tell me what he looked like. I’ve got to know.”

“All right. He wasn’t very tall, and a little on the heavyset side. He looked like a Mexican to me. Dark hair, wavy dark hair.”

“Glasses?”

“No, but brown eyes. Definitely brown eyes.”

“Anything else?”

“Lots of gold in his teeth. You know, gold crowns. You don’t often see that kind of dental work in a man that young.”

“How young?”

“Forty, maybe even forty-five. It’s hard to judge men’s ages. I don’t understand what’s going on. Why are you asking me all these questions?”

“Mother,” Joanna said, “there’s a good chance that man wasn’t a doctor at all, that he was just pretending to be one to gain access to Andy’s room. He may have gone in there and given Andy something.”

Eleanor’s eyes widened. “Like poison or something? You’re not saying that he killed Andy, are you? You mean I was actually carrying on a conversation with a murderer?”

“All I’m saying is if someone from the Tucson Police Department calls and asks you about this, tell them exactly what you told me.”

“Oh, I will. I certainly will.” Suddenly Eleanor stood up and started toward the door, moving with a whole new vigor and sense of purpose.

“And, Mother,” Joanna added, before Eleanor made it all the way out of the room. “It might be better if you didn’t talk to anyone eIse about this, unless it’s someone in an official capacity.”

“Of course not,” Eleanor agreed emphatically. “I wouldn’t think of it.”

Joanna shook her head as she watched her other walk away. Cautioning Eleanor Lathrop not to gossip was almost as good as tell-g her not to breathe.

With her mother gone, Joanna quickly finished clearing off the top surface of her desk, then she stood up and went to Milo ’s door. Apparently lost in thought, he sat with his back to his desk, staring out the window. At sixty-three, Milo Davis was completely bald. Only the very top of his perpetually sun-burned head was visible over the top of his executive chair.

Joanna announced herself by tapping lightly on the door frame, then she stepped over the threshold into his office, pulling the door shut behind her. When he swiveled around to face her, Milo Davis’s usually engaging grin was missing.

“Hello, Joanna,” he said somberly. “Sit down.”

She eased herself into one of the two client chairs in front of his desk. “Please don’t say you didn’t expect to see me today,” Joanna began. “Three people have already given me that same line. I just stopped by long enough to complete those three underwriting memos.”

Milo nodded. “Thanks for taking care of them. You’re absolutely right. They shouldn’t have been left hanging for a whole week. Chances are I wouldn’t have remembered them, either. I’m so used to you taking care of those kinds of details that I just don’t think about them anymore.”

For a moment he examined her face. “How are you doing, really?” he asked.

“Really?” Joanna shrugged uncomfortably and bit her lower lip. “Okay, I guess. It’s all so sudden.”

Milo nodded. “It’s going to be hard as hell, Joanna,” he said kindly. “And it’s going to take time. This is a terrible tragedy, not just for you and Jenny, but for the whole town. Feelings are running high. Don’t be surprised if folks choose up sides and throw stones.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s times like this when you find out who your friends really are, Joanna, and I want you to know you can count on me. Is there anything I personally can do?”

She looked him squarely in the eye. “There Is, Milo. Tell me what’s going on. I was here when Adam York came out of your office. What was he doing here? What did he want? Was he asking you about Andy’s and my insurance?”

Milo Davis frowned. “Not really, although I guess that was part of it. I didn’t tell him much, but I’ll have to eventually. He threatened to come back with a court order to examine my records, and my guess is he’ll make good on it.”

“What kind of records?”

“Payroll. Sales records. He wanted me to tell him exactly how much you make, to the penny. He asked about both of you, but it seemed to me he was actually more interested in you than he was in Andy.”

“Why me? Did he say?”

“I tried to press him on that, but he got real cagey about then.” Milo ’s face was shadowed with concern. “My guess is that he’s looking for extra cash, unexplained expenditures that are over and above what you and Andy could afford on what you both make. My guess is that he thinks you’re involved in some kind of drug dealing.”

“That’s preposterous!” Joanna exclaimed.

“That’s exactly what I told him.”

Joanna took a deep breath. “I caught up with him in the parking lot, and he gave me some kind of song and dance about insurance fraud. But the DEA’s conducting a war on drugs not insurance fraud.”

“Damn!” Milo thundered. He slammed one meaty fist down on his desk top so hard that his crystal paperweight-a prize from the home office for some long-forgotten sales campaign-skittered dangerously close to the edge. Joanna caught it and returned it to its rightful place.

For almost a minute the room was silent. “He’s a formidable adversary, Joanna,” Milo said at last. “Formidable and smooth. He’s one of those operators who, once he decides to send someone up the river, probably has enough horses behind him to pull it off. I’d be very careful around him if I were you.”

“I’ll be careful, but I’m going to stop him.”

“How?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know yet. First I have to find out why he’s after me. He must have something that makes him believe I’m involved. I just can’t for the life of me think of what it might be.”

“He did ask me about that ring of yours,” Milo said thoughtfully. “The one Andy gave you for your anniversary.”

“You knew about that?” Joanna asked in surprise.

“You’re the only one in the office who didn’t. Andy brought it by to show to me as soon as he picked it up from Hiram. He wanted us to put a jewelry rider on your homeowner’s policy. He asked me to handle it personally so you wouldn’t find out about it.

“I told York flat out that I thought he was harking up the wrong tree concentrating on that ring. If Andy’d had anything to hide, he would have been a hell of a lot more secretive about it than he was. As far as I can tell, he told everybody in town but you, and that’s as it should be.”

Hearing Milo talk about the ring brought it hack to Joanna’s attention. She twisted it on her finger. “What else did you tell him?” she asked.

“Mostly just general stuff. I told him Andy grew up in my Boy Scout troop, from the time he was a little shaver with a crew cut in Cubs right up through him getting his Eagle badge in high school. I told him Andy was one of the finest young men to ever grow up around these parts. I told him both of you were fine, upstanding, honest, hardworking young people.”

“Tell me again exactly what he wanted to know about me.”

“How long you’ve worked here, whether you’ve taken any long vacations, that kind of thing. I told him you’ve been here for over ten years now, since before Jennifer was born. In fact, I gave him a whole earful on that score, about how you worked for me and put both Andy and yourself through school at the same time. I told him how you used to commute back and forth to Tucson three days a week. I think he was impressed. He should have been.

“And just before he left, I told him that this smear campaign about you and Andy had by God better come to a stop. It’s absolutely unconscionable.”

Joanna’s eyes brimmed with tears. “Thanks, Milo,” she murmured.

“You don’t have to thank me. It’s the truth. I told York that, and I said the same thing to Jim Bob Brady when I ran into him at the post office at little while ago. These so-called experts from out of town come waltzing in here in their fancy cars and throw their weight around, when they don’t know up from down about what’s really going on. And it sounds to me…”

There was a sudden urgent tapping on the door. Lisa stuck her head inside. “There’s a phone call for you, Joanna. Nina Evans from school. I tried to handle it myself, but she insists on talking to you personally.”

Joanna’s heart went to her throat. “The principal? Is something the matter with Jenny?”

Lisa nodded reluctantly. “They’ve got her in the office. Something about fighting.”

“Jenny? Fighting? That doesn’t sound like her.” Joanna hurried to the phone. “This is Joanna Brady.”

Mrs. Evans sounded relieved. “I’m glad you’re there. We need you to come take Jenny home right away. She’s totally out of control, and I don’t think she ought to be in school today.”

“What’s wrong?”

“She got in a fight at recess.”

“Jenny never gets in fights.”

“Tell that to the two boys she lit into on the playground.” Mrs. Evans returned. “One of them had a bloody nose, and the other’s at the emergency room right now because of his thumb. She dislocated it. I’m surprised she didn’t pull it completely out of the socket.”

“I’ll be right there.”

Joanna put down the phone and turned to see Milo Davis, standing in his doorway. “What’s the matter?” he asked.

“It’s Jenny,” Joanna replied. “She seems to have dislocated a little boy’s thumb in a fight at recess.”

Suddenly Milo ’s broad face broke into its usual wide grin. “Sounds like a chip off the old block. That stunt with the thumb, it’s the same one D. H. taught you way back when he wanted you to be able to tell the boys no and mean it, isn’t it?”

Joanna nodded.

“And it’s the same trick you pulled on Walter McFadden yesterday in the hospital.”

“Who told you about that?”

“Walter did. This morning at breakfast over at Daisy’s. That’s one thing I appreciate about Walter. Good sense of humor. Likes a good joke even when it’s on him.”

“I’ve gotta go,” Joanna said, heading for the door.

She left the office shaking her head. That was the problem with living in a small town. For good or ill, everybody knew far too much about everybody else’s business.

Dislocated thumbs included.