Dead Wrong

The photos Joa

“Sheriff Brady?” she asked, holding out her hand. “You wanted to see me?”

“Yes, I did,” Joa

Leslie turned back to the receptionist. “Is anyone in the conference room, Fran?”

“No, it’s free,” Fran said, casting a suspicious glance in Joa

Leslie led the way into a small conference room. “What’s this all about?” she asked. “Is there a problem?”

Joa

Leslie picked up the picture, studied it closely, and then handed it back. “No,” she said. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him before. Who is he?”

“Maybe he came through your office here looking to buy a house,” Joa

“Then he must have spoken to someone besides me,” Leslie replied. “I remember all my clients. I don’t recognize him.”

Listening as Leslie spoke and watching her reactions, Joa

“What about these?” Joa

Leslie studied several of them. When she looked back at Joa

“These aren’t police photos,” Joa

“Stalked,” Leslie echoed faintly.

“Do you have any idea when they were taken?” Joa

Leslie studied the photos more closely. “It must have been sometime last week,” she said. “I bought that outfit on my last trip to Tucson two weeks ago. Last week was the first time I wore it to work.”

“Do you know what day that was?” Joa

“Wednesday or Thursday. I guess it must have been Wednesday, but tell me, who took these pictures?” Leslie demanded. “And how were they taken without my knowledge? Whoever did it must have followed me for hours-from the post office to the mall to the grocery store. This is too creepy.” She paused and then shivered slightly as a look of understanding crossed her face. “Wait a minute. It’s him, isn’t it,” she said. “The guy whose picture you just showed me is the one who was following me around. Who is he? What does he want?”

“His name is Bradley Evans,” Joa

“How can I? I’ve never met the man or even heard his name.”

“Is it possible you might have met him somewhere? Maybe he went by another name.”

“No. I already told you. I’ve never seen him before.”

“And you have no idea why this complete stranger would have wanted to take your photograph?” Joa

“None whatsoever,” Leslie said defiantly. “Here’s an idea. Why don’t you ask him?”

“We can’t because he’s dead,” Joa

Leslie Markham’s eyes widened. Then she stood up. “If you’ll excuse me,” she said, “I think I need to go get my husband.”

Chapter 12

Leslie Markham returned to the conference room a few minutes later with her husband on her heels. Rory Markham was tall, ta

“So some maniac is going around taking pictures of my wife,” Rory Markham said. “Isn’t that against some law or another? Isn’t it an invasion of privacy?”

“It may be disconcerting,” Joa

“Well, it should be,” Rory returned. “And it’s a good thing the son of a bitch is already dead. If he weren’t, I’d track him down myself and tear him a new asshole.”

“Rory!” Leslie admonished. “You shouldn’t talk that way.” He leveled a look in Leslie’s direction, and she subsided into silence. This bullying exchange wasn’t lost on Joa

“You wouldn’t happen to have any idea about how that might have happened, would you?”

Rory drew himself up and glared down at Joa

“I’m simply asking questions,” Joa

“Show him the man’s picture,” Leslie urged. “Maybe he’ll recognize him.”

Joa

“His name was Bradley Evans.”

“What was he, one of those papa-whatevers?”

“Paparazzi?” Joa

“Right,” Rory said. “That’s what I meant. One of those… paparazzi. Maybe that’s why he was taking pictures of Leslie. Maybe he worked for one of those scumbag kinds of newspapers. You know what I mean-the ones they sell in grocery stores-the National Enquirer or something like that.”

“Why would they be interested in your wife?” Joa

“I suppose it’s possible,” Leslie mused. “With my father up for that federal appointment…”

“Your father?” Joa

“Justice Lawrence Tazewell. He’s on the Arizona Supreme Court, but now he’s up for a possible federal judgeship.”

For the first time it occurred to Joa

Local lore had it that, in the late sixties, while an impoverished law school student at the University of Arizona, Lawrence Tazewell had won the heart of Aileen Houlihan, a fellow student who sprang from some of southeastern Arizona‘s finest pioneer stock. Aileen’s paternal great-grandparents had settled in the northeastern corner of the San Pedro Valley while marauding Apaches, a

“My parents divorced a long time ago,” Leslie continued. “But now that my father’s being considered as a possible nominee for one of the open federal judgeships, everything about his life is back in the news, including my mother and me. This could be related to that.”