Joanna nodded. “Lisa was pregnant at the time she disappeared in late October of 1978,” she said. “Recently my investigators uncovered new evidence that suggests perhaps she wasn’t murdered after all.”
“And you think Lisa Evans and my mother may have been friends?”
“Possibly. I’d like to ask her about it.”
“I don’t think so,” Leslie said.
“Why not?”
“I already told you. Mother’s ill. She’s not up to having visitors.”
Rather than arguing about it, Joanna simply moved on. “What about your father?” she asked. “We’ll want to talk to him as well. I’m sure we can reach him through his office next week, but can you tell us how to get in touch with him over the weekend?”
Leslie shook her head and a shadow of sadness clouded her face. “Sorry. His home number is unlisted, and I don’t have it to give. He and my mother divorced years ago. He and I have never been close.”
Not having her father’s home phone number was about as “not close” as Joanna could imagine, but that small admission made Rory Markham’s presence in Leslie’s life far more understandable. Estranged from her father, Leslie had gone looking for a father figure-and had found one. It wasn’t all that surprising, then, that she had settled on a man who was probably only a few years younger than her biological father.
“That’s all right,” Joanna said reassuringly. “I’m sure we’ll be able to locate him even without your help.”
Leslie glanced at her watch and her eyes widened. “I didn’t know it was so late!” she exclaimed, dropping her paper cup in the trash. “Rory and I are supposed to meet someone for dinner ten minutes from now. I really must go.”
“Of course,” Joanna said. “Sorry to have kept you so long.”
“Is there anything else you need?”
“Not at the moment.”
Frank paused at the doorway, motioning for the women to leave first. Once they were out in the hall, Joanna caught sight of him ducking back to retrieve Leslie’s cup.
Neither of them said anything more until they were back in the car.
“She doesn’t even have her father’s unlisted phone number?” Frank commented. “What kind of family is that?”
“A broken one,” Joanna said. “As sad as she was, I just couldn’t bring myself to blow her out of the water,” she added once the car doors closed.
“I couldn’t have done it either,” Frank said. “So it’s on to plan B, which means we’re back to getting the DNA tested?”
“That’s about it,” Joanna said. “The testing itself can be done in a matter of hours. The big problem will be pushing this to the top of the list. Once we have the samples there, I’ll see what I can do to get things moving.”
“What about me?” Frank asked.
“See what you can do about locating Lawrence Tazewell’s address as well as his unlisted phone number. With a federal judgeship hanging in the balance, I’m wondering about him.”
“As in, Bradley shows up with a handful of pictures that pretty well proves Lawrence Tazewell knowingly sent an innocent man up the river. The next thing that happens is his federal bench nomination is in the toilet.”
“Exactly,” Joanna agreed. “Sounds like possible motive to me.”
“But if he’s a suspect, what makes you think the man will talk to us?” Frank asked.
“We’ll just have to try,” Joanna said. “And if he doesn’t, maybe Aileen will.”
“But Leslie said…”
“I know she said her mother wasn’t up to having visitors,” Joanna returned. “But this is a homicide investigation. One way or the other, we’re going to talk to the woman.”
“Tonight?” Frank asked.
Joanna looked at the clock on the dash. It was almost seven, and she had yet to call Butch to let him know she’d be late for dinner.
“No, not tonight,” she said. “If Aileen really is ill, it’s probably too late to drop by to see her. Tomorrow will be plenty of time.”
“But tomorrow’s Saturday,” Frank objected. “Are you sure you want to work on Saturday?”
“Working on a Saturday before the baby is born will be easier than working any day of the week afterward. Yes, I’m working tomorrow. What about you?”
Frank Montoya shook his head. “You’re hopeless,” he said.
“What do you mean?” Joanna asked.
“If you can’t figure out how to take even so much as a weekend off, I doubt you’re going to be any good at maternity leave.”
Joanna should have been able to object, but she couldn’t because it occurred to her as soon as Frank said it that he was probably right.
Chapter 15
By the time Joanna got back to High Lonesome Ranch, Butch and Jenny were watching a movie in the family room with all three dogs scattered around them. Lady came into the kitchen to keep Joanna company while she reheated her dinner in the microwave. She was finishing eating when the program ended and Butch joined her.
“That’s the great thing about green chili casserole,” he said. “The older it gets, the better it tastes.”
“You’re right,” Joanna agreed. “It was great.”
“So how’s it going?” he asked. “You look upset.”
“I am upset,” she said. “Sometimes being a cop sucks.” Sitting down at the table, Butch took her hand. “What’s wrong?”
Joanna shrugged. “In the process of investigating a homicide, I’m about to blow someone’s life wide open.”
“Presumably not the killer’s,” Butch said, “or you wouldn’t be concerned about it.”
It was gratifying that Butch knew her so well.
“That’s right,” she agreed. “Not the killer’s. We’re about to tell a totally innocent twenty-five-year-old real estate agent out in Sierra Vista that she isn’t who she thinks she is, that the people who claim to be her biological parents aren’t even related to her.”
“Lots of people don’t find out they’re adopted until they’re grown,” Butch suggested. “It’s not fatal.”
“In this case the biological mother evidently pulled a phony disappearing act. She handed her baby off to someone else to raise and then left the child’s father to go to prison for the alleged ‘murder’ of his wife and child. The biological father did his time and was finally released a couple of years ago. The trouble started when he accidentally ran into the daughter, who looks spookily like her mother. As soon as he tumbled to the fact that the baby probably didn’t die, he did. Someone murdered him. To make matters worse, the faux father, who may turn into a likely homicide suspect, happens to be a much respected member of the Arizona Supreme Court-Justice Lawrence Tazewell.”
“Not good,” Butch said. “What are you going to do about it?”
“I have no idea. In fact, that’s what I’m sitting here trying to noodle out. Someone needs to go up to Phoenix to interview him, but Ernie is off on medical leave, and Jaime and Debbie are busy tracking down the people who beat up Jeannine Phillips. With the department so shorthanded-”
“No,” Butch interrupted.
“What do you mean, no?” she asked.
“I mean the baby’s due within the week. I don’t want you traipsing all the way to Phoenix to talk to a homicide suspect. Get Frank to do it or one of the other deputies.”
“But the man is a state supreme court justice,” Joanna objected. “I can’t very well send one of my deputies to talk to him.”
“Yes, you can,” Butch declared. “You’re pregnant. Who would end up interviewing the guy if the baby were already here and you were off on maternity leave?”
“I don’t know,” Joanna said gloomily.
“Well,” Butch returned, “get used to it. You’re going to have to let go sometime.”
“That’s what Frank said.”
“That you’re going to have to let go?”
“That I’m going to flunk maternity leave.”
“He’s right,” Butch observed. “That’s a distinct possibility, but in the meantime, what are you going to do about this?”