Dead Wrong by J. A. Jance Read Free Book Online Page A

said. “Jaime and I are on our way to do the next-of-kin notification.”
    “Didn’t Dr. Lee say you were supposed to take it easy these last couple of weeks?” Butch demanded.
    “I am taking it easy,” Joanna returned. “Jaime’s doing the driving.”
    “And you’re wearing your seat belt the right way?” he asked.
    “Yes,” she said, a little annoyed by his fussing. “How was the panel?”
    “Okay,” he said.
    “You don’t sound very enthusiastic.”
    “I’m wondering how much good this kind of thing does, when what I really want is to be home. I always thought writers were like hermits. This seems more like being a politician out on the stump, having to meet and greet. Carole Ann tells me I need to get used to it.”
    Having just survived a bruising election campaign, Joanna knew exactly how it felt to be on the stump. She, for one, was glad to be off it.
    “Jenny said this was one of your father’s old cases,” Butch said. “One of those cold-case-file deals?”
    “Not really,” Joanna answered. “The homicide victim whose body was found this morning turns out to be someone my father arrested and sent to prison for murder in 1978. When we requested the record, there was my father’s name on the report. It was strange seeing his name like that, like there was some kind of weird connection between us. I don’t know how to explain it.”
    “Jenny didn’t sound too thrilled to be left on her own,” Butch said. “I would have thought she’d be ecstatic. She’s always saying we baby her too much.”
    “I think it’s called attention deficit,” Joanna said.
    “Probably pretty typical,” Butch said. “You’ve got a lot on your plate, Joey. No wonder Jenny feels neglected at times. Occasionally, so do I. We both want your undivided attention, and there’s only so much of you to go around.”
    Joanna bit back the urge to apologize. She was, after all, simply doing her job, and a new baby was going to make it worse.
    “Anyway,” Butch added, “don’t stay out too late. You’ll wear yourself out. How was the shower?”
    “You knew about the shower, too?” Joanna asked. It seemed that everyone had known about it.
    “Who do you think sent the note to school so Eva Lou could spring Jenny?”
    “The shower was great,” Joanna said. “Lots of goodies. Come to think of it, they’re still in the car.”
    “Don’t worry about unpacking them,” Butch said. “Let Jenny do it. Or wait until I get home on Sunday.”
    “Butch,” Joanna cautioned, “I may be pregnant, but I’m not an invalid.”
    “And I don’t want you to be, either.”
    “Have fun,” Joanna said.
    “I will,” Butch returned. “Don’t work too hard.”
    Joanna closed her phone. “He’s worried about you?” Jaime asked.
    “I guess.”
    “I remember how it was when Delcia was pregnant with Pepe,” Jaime said. “I kept worrying and worrying. Delcia was fine the whole time. I was a wreck.”
    Joanna laughed. “Sounds familiar,” she said.
    They were quiet for a few minutes before Jaime asked, “Is this what you always wanted?”
    “Having a baby?” Joanna asked.
    “No. Being a cop,” Jaime said with a laugh. “Because of your dad, I mean.”
    “I was proud of him,” Joanna returned, after a moment’s thought. “I thought what he did was important, and I thought he treated people fairly. And I was proud of Andy, too, but I never really thought about being a cop myself, not until after Andy’s funeral when someone suggested that I run in his stead. So Iguess you could say I stumbled into it. Now, though, I can’t imagine doing anything else.”
    Jaime nodded. “Me, either,” he said.
    Anna Marie Crystal’s house was a modest bungalow on Short Street, a block-long fragment of street a single block off Fry Boulevard, Sierra Vista’s main drag. It was a small clapboard affair with a screened-in front porch. Tucked in behind a collection of strip malls, the house resembled some of the older