Maricopa County’s Election Office, Now Starring in Its Own Chaos

Justin Heap

Justin Heap campaigned for Maricopa County Recorder on a simple promise: he would restore trust in elections that he and his allies claimed had been mishandled. It was a message built on suspicion of process, chain of custody, and procedural integrity. Eighteen months into the job, those very concerns are now being raised about his own office.

A Scanner, a Pickup Truck, and Fifty Minutes

In March, during ballot tabulation for a Tempe local election, security cameras at the county’s election center recorded two Recorder’s Office employees removing a ballot scanner and loading it into a personal pickup truck. The equipment was gone for roughly an hour before being returned. County officials say the scanner was compromised by the unexplained removal and had to be replaced, at a cost of $70,000 to taxpayers.

Helen Purcell, who ran the Recorder’s Office for 28 years, said she had never heard of anything like it. Board Chair Kate Brophy McGee called it “hideous” and described the chain-of-custody problem as deeply disturbing.

The Irony Writes Itself

Heap rose to office warning voters that election officials couldn’t be trusted with the basic mechanics of vote counting. Now his own staff is under criminal investigation for taking equipment out of a secured facility during an active count, and Heap has responded not with an explanation but with a lawsuit against the county supervisors, accusing them of retaliating against his employees.

It is hard not to think back to Stephen Richer and Adrian Fontes, the recorders who spent years patiently explaining, often to hostile audiences, that Maricopa County’s elections were secure and well run. Both told the truth about an office that, whatever its imperfections, was not engaged in the kind of chaos now unfolding. Both lost politically for their trouble.

Maybe the Job Is Just Hard

There’s a version of this story where Heap is the victim of a politically hostile Board of Supervisors. There’s another version, increasingly well-documented, where Heap’s office has struggled with the basic operational discipline the job requires, and where the response to every problem has been litigation and blame rather than accountability.

Running a county election office turns out to be a serious administrative undertaking, not a campaign talking point. The people who told voters that, plainly and without spin, are no longer in office. The people who promised something different are now explaining unmarked trucks and missing scanners weeks before a primary. Whatever else is true, the irony is not subtle.