CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
JUNE 21, 9 AM
MERCANTILE, SOUTH PHOENIX
Tuesday morning, I am anxious to meet with Marguerita. I pass on breakfast at home, stop at the Legal Eagle and grab a muffin and coffee. Jo Ann, Mary O’s assistant waitress, senses I’m in a hurry and rushes my coffee and heated muffin. I thank her and race back to my car, driving south to the mercantile.
I arrive at the little coffee bar located inside the market and wait. Finally, I see an elderly lady, maybe not so old, only tired, walking through the front door. Marguerita wanders toward the coffee bar, and I jump up to meet her.
“Hi. I am Gene McLain. We talked on the phone yesterday. Can I get you a cup of coffee?”
She sits, says “no,” and just looks at me for a long time. No conversation. Finally, I remind her she ca
