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go to a good deal of trouble to find him and get rid of him. And there was
always a chance that they had already succeeded in doing so. But if they
hadn t, and if he had really loved Alice Rogers, would he simply turn his back
and walk away, or would he be there for her even in death?
Once at the hospital, Joanna turned Dena Hogan over to the emergency room
people and directed the deputies to take turns guarding her. Meanwhile, Joanna
went to work on the admissions process. Even though she had come armed with
all the necessary information and documents, it still took the better part of
an hour before Dena Hogan s admission was complete. And all the while the
watch on Joanna s arm and the clock over the admission clerk s head continued
to tick.
Free at last, Joanna raced out to the Bronco. It was eight-thirty. No doubt
Alice Roger s visitation at the funeral home would end at nine. With no time
to lose, Joanna started the Bronco and switched on the pulsing blue emergency
lights for the next several miles. Once she hit Douglas proper, she turned off
the flashing lights and slowed to a more reasonable pace. By the time she
drove under the railroad underpass, she was actually driving at the speed
limit.
Garrity s Funeral Home had once been a massive old house on G Street. It was
situated only a few blocks from Jessie Monroe s Golden Agers Nursing Home, and
only a few more blocks from where Alice Monroe Rogers and her brothers and
sisters had played hide-and-seek as children.
Joanna shivered as she stepped out of the Bronco and walked toward the
mortuary. It was a cold, brisk night, but the chill she felt was more than
that. Joanna knew from read-ing Alice s own words that she had lived her whole
life trying to escape Douglas. Now, at the end of her life, here she was
again, mere blocks from where she had started. To Joanna, it all seemed
pointless somehow, and, at the same time, inevitable.
With her copy of the wedding picture folded into a small square in her hand,
Joanna walked into the plushly carpeted lobby of the mortuary. A man in a suit
and tie met her at the door.  Are you here for Mrs. Rogers? he asked.
 Yes.
 Second door on the right, he directed.  But the visitation is almost over,
he added.  I m not sure if you re aware of it or not, but there s been another
tragedy in the family today. As a result, most family members had to leave
earlier than expected. There are only a few stragglers left.
The man s politely unspoken message was clear: It s over, lady. All the
important people are gone already, so don t hang around and waste my time.
 That s fine, Joanna said.  I won t be long.
She walked into the room. Like the lobby, the small, chapel-like room was
plushly carpeted. An open casket, eerily lit, sat at the front. Glancing
around the room, Joanna realized that the man in the lobby was wrong. Besides
Alice, there was only one person left in the dimly lit chapel a man, seated
near the front. His head was bowed. He appeared to be deep in prayer.
Walking silently, Joanna moved forward. She took a seat three rows back from
the man and waited. For a long time, he continued to sit there without moving.
Finally he stood up. As he turned to walk toward the aisle, Joanna recognized
him. She also saw that he was carrying something a flower, a sin-gle rose.
Once in the aisle, he walked to the casket and placed the rose inside.
It was such a simple, moving gesture, that Joanna felt her heart squeeze. He
does care, she thought. The look on his face in the wedding picture isn t a
lie.
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Knowing the man known as Farley Adams still thought himself alone, Joanna
waited for him to turn. She had no idea what he would do when he saw her. Was
he armed? Would he think she was someone sent to kill him?
As soon as he saw her, Joanna saw the look of dread that passed briefly over
his tear-stained face. His eyes shifted des-perately from side to side, as if
searching frantically for some other way out of the room. Realizing there was
none, he turned back. For a long moment, the two people stared silently at one
another. Finally Farley Adams shook his head. The look of fear on his face was
replaced by one of profound resignation. His shoulders sagged, then, slowly,
he raised his hands.
 All right, he said.  It s no use. I can t run anymore. You ve got me. Go
ahead and get it over with.
 It s all right, Mr. Becker, Joanna said softly.  I m not one of them. My
name s Joanna Brady, Sheriff Joanna Brady. We need to talk.
 But you called me Becker, he objected.  You must know all about me then?
 And about your son, Joanna replied.  And about the dirty cops from North Las
Vegas who killed your son and who want you dead as well.
Becker dropped into one of the rows of seats and covered his face with his
hands.  If you could find me this easily, they will, too. I knew better than
to go to the funeral, but I thought I could take a chance on coming here.
There were so few people. Nobody recognized me except you. I know it s all my
fault. That s why Alice is dead. The people who are looking for me must have
thought she would lead them to me, although I don t know how they found out.
 They didn t, Joanna said.
 They didn t? Joanna saw the smallest flicker of hope reg-ister on the man s
haunted features.  You mean somebody else killed her?
 Yes, Joanna said.  Her son-in-law.
 Ross Jenkins? But why?
 For money, Joanna replied.  We found evidence at the scene that made us
think Clete Rogers was responsible. But since Ross Jenkins accomplice has
already confessed to her part in Alice s murder, I suspect that was a frame
job.
 Clete would never do such a thing; Becker declared.  I le thought the world
of his mother. In fact, I m surprised he wasn t here tonight. I was hoping to
get a chance to tell him sorry I am.
For the first time Joanna realized Jonathan Becker hadn t yet heard the rest
of the news.  Clete Rogers didn t come to the visitation because he couldn t,
Joanna said softly.  He s dead, too.
 Clete? No. What happened to him? The stress was probably -too much.
 It wasn t stress, Joanna said.  Somebody threw him in deep end of an empty
swimming pool and broke his neck. It happened last night.
 Did Ross do that, too? I knew Ross and Susan didn t get along with Clete, but
I never thought they d do something so 
 How did you first meet Alice Rogers? Joanna interrupted.
 I suppose you ve figured out about the Witness Protection thing, Becker
ventured.
 Yes. Nobody told us for sure, but we ve pretty well pieced it together.
 Well, I couldn t stand it. It was too confining a jail with no bars on the
walls, but a prison nonetheless. When I couldn t take it any longer, I split. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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