By then they had settled into the vehicle, and Joanna was headed back to the Justice Center. “Where?” she asked.
“Where’s he stationed?” Tazewell returned.
“No,” Joanna said. “Where does your stepdaughter live?”
“Denver,” Tazewell answered. “Ron is from there. His parents own a bunch of apartment buildings, and they’re letting Suzanne and the kids stay in one of them rent-free while Ron is overseas. Destry’s brother, Johnny, is three years old and a real pistol. The other grandparents looked after him while Sharon and I were at the hospital.”
As Tazewell spoke, Joanna was doing some calculating of her own. Bradley Evans had died sometime the previous Wednesday or Thursday. If, as Lawrence Tazewell claimed, he had been off in Colorado doing grandfather duty, it seemed likely that he had no connection to the Evans homicide.
“Did you fly your own plane up there?” she asked.
“Of course,” he said. “Commercial flying is such a pain these days that I avoid it whenever possible. We left right after I got off work on Wednesday and were there in time for dinner. It could have taken us the same amount of time just to clear security at Sky Harbor.”
As they came up over the hill south of the ballpark, Tazewell looked around and sighed. “Looks like nothing’s changed,” he said. “When I first got elected to the superior court, I thought Aileen and I would move over here. I’d even made an offer on a nice place over on the Vista, but she refused to leave her folks’ ranch. Her mother was starting to have some health issues about then. And she stayed on even after both her parents passed away. As far as I know, she’s still there. I’m the one who moved on.”
There was a clear hint of regret in his voice. “You don’t sound particularly happy about it,” Joanna said.
“Being here brings it all back, I guess,” he said. “My colossal failure in life. The funny thing is, I didn’t see it coming even though one of my fraternity brothers from the U of A tried to warn me. Dudley told me he thought I was getting in over my head, only I didn’t believe him. Old Dud was of the opinion that marrying a rich man’s daughter was a bad idea. Turns out he was right. Which brings us, I suppose, to Leslie. What’s going on with her? What’s this about stalking? I’m willing to bet it has a lot more to do with that slime bucket named Rory Markham than it does with me.”
“I take it you don’t approve of your son-in-law?” Joanna asked casually.
“Look,” Lawrence Tazewell said. “Aileen wrote me out of my daughter’s life a long time ago. I’ve had no contact with Leslie at all since she was little, but I still care, and I try to keep track of what’s going on with her. When I found out she had married Rory Markham, I assumed it was Rory’s son. I knew he had at least one. I didn’t find out until much later that wasn’t the case. When I learned she had married the father instead, the Rory I knew, I couldn’t believe it. Why would someone like Leslie, a girl in her twenties, want to hook up with an old goat almost as old as her father?”
Joanna had her own ideas about why Leslie had married Rory Markham. “So you and he knew each other?” she asked.
“I knew him slightly but Rory and my ex have been pals forever,” Tazewell answered finally. “Maybe even more than pals on occasion. I suspect Aileen is the one who engineered the whole thing.”
Joanna was thunderstruck. “You’re saying your wife allowed your daughter to marry one of her ex-boyfriends?”
“Encouraged probably more than allowed,” Tazewell replied. “In fact, she probably manipulated the whole transaction and poor Leslie probably still hasn’t figured it out. Aileen’s like that, you see-someone who always gets her way. That’s one of the reasons I divorced her.”
“But-” Joanna began. Lawrence Tazewell stopped her mid-objection.
“Look,” he said. “Just because someone gives birth doesn’t make her a decent mother-present company excepted, of course. Now tell me about this stalking business. You say the guy was taking pictures. Do you have any idea who it is?”
Joanna hadn’t expected the interview to progress this far without being back at the department and having someone else to witness and record exactly what was said, but she was into it now, and there was no turning back.
“His name is Evans,” Joanna answered. “Bradley Evans.”
She glanced in Tazewell’s direction to see if there was any visible reaction to this revelation, but there was nothing-no sign of recognition or even interest.
“And he is?”
“An ex-con,” Joanna said. “And he’s dead. Someone murdered him last week.”
“A friend of Rory’s?” Tazewell asked.
“No,” Joanna said. “Not as far as we’ve been able to determine. You may know him, though.”
“Me?” Tazewell asked. “How would I know the man?”
“You’re the one who sent him to prison.”
“What’s the man’s name again?”
“Bradley Evans. He went to prison in 1978 for the murder of his pregnant wife. You were the judge who accepted his plea agreement and imposed the prison sentence.”
“Wait a minute. I think I do remember now. The guy was an ex-soldier from Fort Huachuca, right? He copped a plea even though no one ever found his wife’s body.”
Joanna nodded.
“And you’re right. I’m the one who imposed his sentence. It wasn’t a good time for me, though. I barely remember the proceedings. But what would he have against Leslie?”
By then Joanna was pulling into the Justice Center complex. “Let’s talk about it when we get inside,” she said.
“All this is new?” Tazewell asked.
Joanna nodded. “Relatively,” she said.
“When I was here everything was still located in the courthouse up in Old Bisbee-the jail, the sheriff’s department, the courts.”
“Times change,” Joanna said. “Come on in.” She ushered him into her office through her private entrance and offered him a chair. “Would you mind excusing me?” she asked. “Nature calls-urgently.”
Tazewell smiled. “I understand,” he said. “Take your time.”
Leaving him alone in her office, Joanna hurried to the rest room and then back to Frank’s office. “Got him?” Frank asked.
“He’s in my office. Do you have anything for me?”
“Not yet,” Frank answered. “Nothing on the blood work, if that’s what you mean. Trying to get the crime lab moving on this is like pulling teeth.”
“Having a supreme court justice sitting in my office may be our secret weapon on that score,” Joanna said. “Care to join us?”
Nodding, Frank followed Joanna from his office to hers. After introductions, the three of them settled into chairs around the small conference table in the corner of the room. “What can you tell me about your former wife’s friends?” Joanna asked.
“What friends?” Lawrence Tazewell asked with a snort of derision. “Rory was the only one I knew of, and he was a chum of hers from grade school on. Rory earned money by working on the Triple H during the summers and on weekends. Aileen was totally preoccupied with her parents and her horses. In that order. Her father came first, her mother second, the horses third.”
“What about Leslie?”
“A distant fourth. They hired the wife of one of the Triple H ranch hands to look after her.”