Jaime looked up from taking notes. “What was he in for?”
“Second-degree murder,” Ted answered. “He got twenty-five-to-life for killing his wife back in the late seventies. It happened out in Sierra Vista, or maybe it was just near there, I don’t remember which.”
“I’ve asked Maggie from Records to get us the file,” Joanna said.
“I don’t remember his wife’s name, but she was pregnant at the time of her death,” Ted continued. “He was drunk and evidently functioning in a blackout when it happened. I don’t believe her body was ever found.”
“They got a conviction with no body?” Jamie asked. “That’s pretty unusual.”
Ted nodded. “There was enough blood found in Brad’s vehicle and on his body to make a pretty good case that she was dead. And with her pregnant, I guess feelings were running pretty high. Even without a body, the county attorney was prepared to go for murder one. Instead, Brad copped a plea to second degree. Like I told Sheriff Brady here, he accepted full responsibility for his actions. Based on good behavior, he probably should have been turned loose a long time before they finally let him go, but every time he came up for parole, his former mother-in-law was there at the hearing to speak in opposition.”
“How long ago did Evans get out?”
“Three or so years ago. When I first met him, I would have to say he was what they call a dry drunk-an alcoholic who wasn’t actively drinking but who hadn’t done anything about working on the underlying issues. I helped him get into the program. You know anything about the twelve steps?”
Joanna and Jaime both shook their heads.
“There are twelve steps to recovery. One of them involves making amends to all the people you may have harmed. Once Brad got into the program, he wrote a letter to his former mother-in-law, asking her forgiveness, but nothing changed her mind about him. She was at the last meeting before the parole board set him loose, and she was still adamantly opposed to their letting him out. Still, once he was on the outside, Brad stayed with AA, and he’s one of the ones who really worked his program. He was serious about it. That’s why I thought he’d be so good working with the guys in the Papago Unit as a kind of peer counselor. And he was.”
“You have no idea where Brad’s former mother-in-law lives now?”
“No,” Ted answered.
“Do you have any idea about Brad’s friends or associates?”
“Not really. I’m guessing the people he was closest to will be the ones he was working with at the prison, maybe some of the guards, but they wouldn’t know him nearly as well as the inmates he was counseling.”
Jaime nodded. “We’ll get down there tomorrow and talk to them. It’s a start. Can you think of anything else?”
Ted shook his head. “Pride’s a terrible thing,” he said bleakly.
“Why do you say that?” Joanna asked.
“Because when Brad went missing, I was convinced he had fallen off the wagon. I was terribly disappointed in him, mainly because I thought it would reflect badly on me. The first thing that went through my head when I saw him uptown in the morgue was that at least he wasn’t drunk. It makes me ashamed to think that idea even crossed my mind. What kind of person would think that way?”
“Lots of them, Ted,” Joanna said. “Give yourself a break.” She turned to Jaime. “Can you think of anything else we need to ask?”
“When was he last seen at work?” Jaime asked.
“Tuesday. He had Wednesdays off.”
“All right, then,” Jaime said. “That’s about it.”
“I can go, then?” Ted asked.
“Sure,” Joanna said with a smile. “Go home to Ginny I’m sure she’s worried about you. If we need anything else, we know how to get hold of you.”
Jaime waited until Ted Chapman had left the room. “So you win the prize, boss,” he said. “John Doe turns out to be an ex-con with alcohol problems. I believe you called that one right on the money.”
“But we still don’t know who killed him,” Joanna returned.
There was a light knock on the conference-room door. Maggie Mendoza came in carrying a computer printout. “This is what the Department of Corrections has on Mr. Evans,” she said.
Joanna took the file. She hadn’t planned to look at it in any detail. Her intention was to glance at it briefly and then pass it over to Jaime so he could study it, but then a familiar name leaped off one of the pages: D. H. Lathrop! When Brad Evans was first picked up in October of 1978, Joanna’s own father had been the arresting officer.
Joanna felt a sudden shiver of recognition. It was as though her father had reached out from beyond the grave and tapped her on the shoulder. She hurried to the conference-room door and called after Maggie, who was on her way back to her desk.
“Wait a minute.” She turned back to Jaime. “What’s the wife’s name?”
Jaime picked up the papers and scanned through them. “Lisa Marie Evans.”
“Where are the homicide records from 1978?”
“In storage up in the old courthouse,” Maggie said. “Why?”
“I need one,” Joanna said. “Lisa Marie Evans. Murdered in October of 1978.”
“Do you need it tonight?” Maggie asked. “If you do…”
Joanna glanced at her watch. The hour hand was edging toward eight. She didn’t blame Maggie for not wanting to make a nighttime visit to the creaky old courthouse uptown, but it had to be done.
“We really do need it tonight,” Joanna said.
“All right,” Maggie agreed. “I’ll go get it, but it may take time. Those files aren’t in the best of order.”
When Maggie left the conference room, so did Joanna. The pressure the baby was putting on her bladder was more than she could withstand. When she returned from the rest room, Jaime was finishing a call.
“Thanks,” he said. “Thanks so much.”
“Who was that?” Joanna asked.
“Rich Higgins,” Jaime answered. “The guy Ted Chapman called. Rich is human resources director for Arizona State Prison System Jail Ministries.”
“So we have a next of kin?”
“Her name’s Anna Marie Crystal with a Sierra Vista address. She’s listed in Brad’s employment records as ‘mother-in-law.” She’s also the beneficiary of his group life insurance. It’s not very much-a ten-thousand-dollar death benefit, but still…“
“Did Brad Evans remarry?” Joanna asked.
“If he did, Ted never mentioned it,” Jaime replied.
“We should probably check this out,” Joanna said. “Twenty-plus years ago Brad Evans went to prison for murdering his wife, but he still lists his dead wife’s mother as his beneficiary? That strikes me as very strange.”
“Do you want me to go talk to her tonight?” Jaime asked. “Since Ted already identified the body, we don’t need her for that, but…”
Joanna looked at the computer printout. Even across the table she could make out her father’s name, Deputy D. H. Lathrop. It was eight o’clock, and Sierra Vista was thirty miles away, but even if it meant getting home at midnight, Joanna wanted to be there when Jaime spoke to Anna Marie Crystal.
She picked up the phone and dialed home. “Hullo,” Jenny said.
“How are you?” Joanna asked.
“Okay, I guess,” Jenny mumbled unconvincingly.
“Is everything all right?”
“I suppose.”
“What did you have for dinner?”
“Noodle soup.”
“As you know, there’s been a homicide, Jenny,” Joanna told her. “We’ve just found an important lead, but it means I need to go to Sierra Vista. Will you be all right?”
“I guess. I’m watching TV, but there’s nothing good on.”
“The doors are locked?”
Jenny sighed. “Yes, Mother.”
Joanna knew that being called “Mother” was never a good sign, but still…
