to the empty hum of the phone line.
CHAPTER 3
O n her way back to the Justice Center, Joanna called the Double Cs about interviewing Ted Chapman. Ernie wasn’t home and didn’t answer his cell. “You caught me in the middle of dinner,” Jaime said. “I’ll be there in a few.”
“Any idea where Ernie is?” Joanna asked.
“Tucson,” Jaime answered. “He told me before we left work that he and Rose were going there for a meeting of some kind.”
“For someone who claims to hate driving back and forth to Tucson, it seems like he’s been doing that a lot lately.”
“Yes, it does,” Jaime agreed, but he didn’t say anything more than that, and Joanna didn’t press it.
Joanna could see that Ted was shaken by what had happened to his friend, but he was eager to be of assistance in whatever way possible. While they waited for Jaime to show up for the interview, Ted called one of the jail ministry administrators.
“Hey, Rich,” he said. “Ted Chapman here. Sorry to call you at home like this, but I have some bad news about one of your guys—Brad Evans. He’s been killed—murdered.”
Joanna waited during a long pause while the unexpected news was assimilated.
“It happened along Border Road,” Ted continued. “Someone found the body early this morning. I just identified it, but the sheriff’s department is trying to locate next of kin, and I was wondering…Sure, sure. If you wouldn’t mind, that would be great. What’s the phone number here?”
Joanna reeled it off.
“All right,” Ted said into the phone. “Call this number when you have the information. If I’m not here, ask for Sheriff Brady.”
Having put that in process, Joanna and Ted went into the conference room to await Jaime Carbajal’s arrival. The young detective came bearing gifts—a grocery-bag care package that included paper plates and plastic silverware as well as several bean-and-green-chili burritos wrapped in tinfoil and still warm to the touch.
“You didn’t eat, did you, boss?” Jaime asked.
“Not since lunch,” Joanna answered.
“That’s what Delcia thought,” he said with a grin. “She claims pregnant women need to keep up their strength. How about you, Ted? Hungry?”
“Not really,” he said, but once Joanna’s first burrito was unwrapped he succumbed and had one anyway. Joanna plowed gratefully into hers. Until she took that first bite, she had been unaware of how close she had been to running on empty.
As Jaime sat down at the table, Joanna pushed him the piece of paper on which she had jotted down Bradley Evans’s name as well as the address of his apartment in Douglas.
“I’m so sorry to hear about the loss of your friend, Ted,” Jaime ventured. “What can you tell us about him?”
Ted Chapman took a deep breath. “I’ve known Brad for a long time,” he said. “Before I broke away to start the Cochise Jail Ministry, I spent years working for the Arizona State Prison Ministry. Ginny’s parents were from Douglas, and she wanted to live closer to them, so when there was an opening in Douglas, I transferred down here from Florence. Brad was already there when I arrived.
“Most convicts are con artists one way or the other. They’re like politicians. They’ll say anything to suck you into believing that their version of things is the gospel. Brad wasn’t like that. He was always a straight shooter, but tough enough that no one messed with him.”
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