long-ago disappearance of Lisa Marie Evans. Now that had changed.
“Did Rory know that Lisa had told you what he was doing behind your back?”
“I may have told him, but it didn’t really matter. I didn’t break up with him because of some harmless flirting. It turned out that was just the tip of the iceberg. He actually had a thing for older women-older married women. One of those Mrs. Robinson deals. I probably shouldn’t be telling you this since he’s still around here and running a real estate office in town, but the woman involved has been dead for a long time.”
“What married woman?” Joanna asked.
“I really shouldn’t say,” Barbara hedged. “Really. People could still get hurt. I mean, he’s married now. Knowing about this would probably hurt her feelings.”
“If it happened long before he married his current wife, why would it hurt her?” Joanna asked.
Barbara sighed. “Because the woman’s name was Ruth,” she said at last.
“Ruth Houlihan?” Joanna demanded. “Leslie Markham’s grandmother?”
“You already know about them, then?” Barbara asked. “In that case I don’t suppose my two cents’ worth will make any difference. Ruth’s husband was a lot older than she was, and Rory was a real hunk back in those days. Old Mr. Houlihan hired Rory to do odd jobs around the ranch, and he ended up balling the missus behind the old man’s back. The two of them would ride up into the hills to an old line shack and screw their brains out. The Houlihans had a daughter named Aileen who was about the same age as Lisa and me. Ruth and Rory both pretended he was interested in the daughter, but that was just a convenient cover.”
Barbara stopped talking for a moment, then added, “I do feel guilty to be gossiping like this, but even after all these years, I’m still more than a little pissed at the man for what he did to me. Thank God I didn’t marry him, though. I can’t imagine what that would have been like. Rory Markham is a real piece of work.”
J
Her cell phone rang just then. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Petrocelli. I need to take that. Can I call you back later?”
“Sure. Feel free. I’ll do whatever I can to help.”
When Joanna picked up her cell phone, Frank was on the line. “When are you going to be here?” he said. “The cameras are ready to roll, and so is the first batch of puppies.”
“I’m afraid you and I are going to miss the puppy party,” Joanna said.
“Why? What’s going on?” Frank demanded.
“We need to pay a call on Rory Markham,” Joanna said. “Because one of Lisa Marie Evans’s friends has just connected some of our missing dots.”
Chapter 20
Knowing there was no way she’d be able to dodge in and out of the Justice Center without being photographed, Joanna took time enough to do what she could with her hair and makeup before she left the house. And she was right. As soon as she drove into the complex, a group of reporters began following her. Rather than leading them to the relative privacy of her backdoor entrance, she stopped directly in front of the building and marched through the throng to the spot near the front entrance where Frank, holding a wiggly pit bull puppy, was doing his best to carry on a press briefing.
He looked at her gratefully. “And here’s Sheriff Brady right now,” he said.
As Joanna stepped to the collection of microphones, Frank took the opportunity to duck inside and divest himself of the puppy. Prepared for a grilling about the fate of the unfortunate animals Millicent Ross had found it necessary to euthanize, Joanna was astonished to find no one was the least bit interested in those. Everyone wanted to know about the puppies. How long would they be in her jail? Who had come up with the idea? Did the inmates mind? Did the guards? Was it true that a benefactor was providing the money to pay for this so it wasn’t coming out of public funds?
When Frank reemerged minus the wiggling puppy, Joanna was happy to turn the briefing back over to him. “With this mob to handle, I can see you’re not going anywhere,” she said. “What about Debbie or Jaime?”
“They’re back up at San Simon,” he said. “But Ernie’s here.”
“Ernie!” Joanna exclaimed. “I thought he was off on medical leave.”
“So did I,” Frank said. “But he turned up first thing this morning itching to go back to work.”
“Where is he?”
“At his desk reading up on everything he’s missed.”
Joanna went inside and found Ernie in his cubicle. “Are you sure you should be working?” she asked.
“I wouldn’t talk if I were you,” he returned. “But yes, I need to be here. Rose said either I came to work or she was getting a divorce. Besides, Frank said you might need some help.”
“It’s the Bradley Evans case. As I recall, you weren’t too thrilled about working it last week.”
“That was before I was stuck at home for what felt like forever. I’ll work whatever needs working. Where are we going and what car do we take?”
Joanna handed him her keys. “We’ll take mine,” she said. “It’s parked out front, but there’s no way I’m going back through that crowd of reporters to get it.”
Minutes later, Ernie drove the Crown Victoria up to Joanna’s private entrance. They left the Cochise Justice Center complex without fanfare.
“Where to?”
“It’s Sunday afternoon,” Joanna said, glancing at her watch. “Prime real estate time. Let’s see if Mr. Markham happens to be in his office.”
“I’m sorry,” the receptionist told Joanna when she called. “He’s not in. Some kind of family emergency. Can I take a message?”
“Never mind,” Joanna said without leaving her name. “Maybe I can catch him at home.”
“To the Triple H, then?” Ernie asked.
Joanna nodded. On the way she told Ernie as much as she could remember about what they had uncovered concerning Lisa Marie and Bradley Evans and about Rory and Leslie Markham as well. Ernie was appalled.
“You’re telling me Rory Markham once had an affair with the grandmother of the woman who’s now his wife? What is he, some kind of pervert?”
“The presumed grandmother,” Joanna corrected. “And no, I don’t think Rory’s necessarily a pervert. He’s a cagey operator who’s also very dangerous. I’m almost certain that he must have had some involvement with whatever happened to Lisa Marie back in 1978. Having Bradley show up unexpectedly on his doorstep after all these years and start asking about Lisa must have thrown Markham for a loop. He couldn’t afford to have his possible involvement come to light. He opted for damage control and got rid of Bradley. I’m sure he was convinced there’d be no way to link the crime back to him and that would be the end of it.”
“This is all gut instinct, though,” Ernie grumbled. “Gut instinct and theory. We’ve got no solid evidence to back any of this up.”
“You’re right,” Joanna said. “But by the time we finish talking to him, maybe we will have.”
“You take the lead, then,” Ernie said. “I can’t see how this is going to pull together.”
Joanna wasn’t sure she did either, but she spent the next part of the drive thinking about the entry in her father’s diary-about how he felt that sending Bradley Evans to prison for his young wife’s murder was “dead wrong.” Other than Bradley, no other possible suspects had ever been named or even mentioned.
But here was Rory Markham caught up in the middle of it. And not, as Lawrence Tazewell had so readily assumed, as Aileen’s sometime boyfriend, but as Ruth’s. And who was Ruth? Someone cold-blooded enough to want her daughter to abort a child rather than give birth to one at risk of developing Huntington’s disease.
“What if Aileen never knew about any of it?” Joanna said aloud.
“Never knew what?”
“That Ruth and Rory had somehow arranged to substitute Lisa Marie’s baby for Aileen’s? According to Leslie, Aileen was eager for Leslie to be married so that if and when she did develop HD, she’d have someone to take care of her. But if Aileen had known about the switch, then she’d also have known that there was no reason for her to worry about the possibility of Leslie developing Huntington‘s.”
Ernie wasn’t buying it. “Women usually know when they have babies. Rose sure as hell did. How’s that
