Michael McGarrity - The Judas judge

Kerney nodded. "Why should she lie to me?"

"Maybe you think she's just some Indian slut who's telling you a story."

"I don't think either of those things about your mother."

"Maybe you want a DNA comparison, to make sure I'm really your biological son."

"Is that what you want?"

"I asked you."

"I have no reason not to trust Isabel."

"She says you were in the army before you became a cop."

"That's right. Two years active duty," Kerney said. "When?"

"Vietnam."

"Did you see any action?"

"Enough."

"Is that where you got that scar on your belly?"

"No, that came later. It goes with my limp."

"What happened?"

"A gunfight with a drug dealer."

"Did you put him down?"

"Yeah. How long have you been with the tribal police?"

"Five years. I joined right after I got my degree from Western New Mexico State."

"You like the work?" Kerney asked.

"I like it fine. It's funny, both of us being cops."

"It is an interesting coincidence."

"You're married, my mom says. Who's your wife?"

"Her name is Sara Brannon. She's a career army officer."

"But no kids, right?"

"No kids, at least until recently."

"You ever been married before?"

"Once, when I was about your age. It didn't work out."

"I don't want you trying to act like my father or anything like that."

"I wouldn't know where to begin," Kerney said.

"I just want to learn something about you."

"That's fair enough."

"Mom says you were raised on a ranch."

"In the San Andres, fifty miles from here, as the crow flies."

"Do your parents still live there?"

"No, the ranch was swallowed up by the missile range. My parents were killed in an automobile accident when I was coming home from Vietnam."

"Where did your family come from, originally?"

"My grandfather came here from west Texas over a hundred years ago."

"Do I have any uncles, aunts, or cousins?"

"Not on my side of the family."

"Do my questions bother you?"

"You have a right to ask them. How do you feel about having me as a father?"

"It doesn't make me any less Apache."

"I wasn' thinking along those lines," Kerney said.

"I just want to make sure you know where I'm coming from. Do you like being a cop?"

"Most of the time I do, but not right now."

"Shooting a fellow officer for stealing evidence is pretty harsh," Clayton said.

The comment caught Kerney unprepared. "Is that what you think I did?"

"Based on what your department released to the media, Shockley was unfit to wear the badge. But the state police officers I know are saying that you overreacted and blew the arrest."

"Shockley gave me no choice. Let's leave it at that."

"Okay, I understand. It's an open internal affairs investigation, and you can't talk about it." Clayton smiled. "So, the first time I ever meet my old man I bust him for trespassing. That's pretty weird, don't you think?"

"It has a certain irony. You could have let us off with a warning."

"I spend most of my time working as a tribal ranger and I've learned the hard way if you just slap wrists, people think it's an invitation to come back and trespass again. What were you doing out there?"

"Looking at some land for sale. I'm retiring soon and thinking about starting up a ranch."

"You gonna buy it?"

"No, it's pretty much worn-out, unproductive land."

Clayton nodded in agreement. "You're working that spree murder case. Langsford and all those other people."

"That's right."

"And you think an Apache did it."

"I don't know who did it."

Clayton blew right through Kerney's words. "Some sneaky Apache who's going around ambushing people."

"Are you trying to push my buttons?"

"I've known a lot of Anglos who talk liberal and think racist."

"Do you want to talk about racism or the killings?"

"Tell me about the murders."

"I think they were premeditated, designed to look like a killing spree, with Langsford the real target. Somebody who doesn't want to get caught put a lot of thought into it."

"Have you got physical evidence or witnesses to back that up?"

"Some evidence points in that direction."

"Like what?"

Kerney laid out the facts of how Langsford's killing differed from the others.

Clayton relaxed a bit and listened. Hearing about cop stuff eased some of his tension.

"Maybe you're right," he said, when Kerney finished. "Are you working a suspect list?"

"That, and we're trying to nail down the motive."

"Silas Kozine blew you off, didn't he?"

"Without blinking an eye."

"That's his job. What were you hoping he'd let you do?"

"Review your department's files. Cross-check people who were employed at the tribal casino and resort at the time of Marsha Langsford's murder, to see if anyone can be associated with the judge."

"Are you asking me for help?

"No."

"That's good," Clayton said. "You seem to be pretty calm about finding out that you're my father."

"I'm still digesting the information."

"What my mother did wasn't wrong."

"Judging from what I've seen of you and her, I'd say she's done just about everything right."

Clayton stood up and walked to the door. "Okay, now we've talked. What happens next?"

"That's up to you."

"You haven't asked me much about myself."

"Your mother gave me the impression that it would be best not to pry."

"I'm married. My wife's name is Grace. We've got two kids, a boy and a girl, ages three and eighteen months. That makes you a grand father. I'll see you around."

Clayton left, and Kerney stared at the closed door in stunned silence.

He'd discovered he was a father and now a grandfather in the space of one day. It was much too surreal. He went to the mirror and studied his face. Was he really that old? He didn't feel it inside. He could only wonder what Sara would say when he told her about the instantaneous family ties that had materialized in his life.

Dressed in sweats, Agent Robert Duran left his motel room for an early morning run, thinking that if everything fell into place, the Shockley investigation would be wrapped up and he could go home to Santa Fe in a day or two.

He settled into a five-minute-per-mile pace, turned off the main drag, and started a long gradual climb that would take him into the foothills of the Sacramento Mountains. The predawn streets were empty of all but an occasional car.

A mile into his run he spotted a slow-moving jogger with an awkward gait ahead of him. It was Chief Kerney. He drew even and slowed down.

"Morning, Chief."

"Morning, Robert," Kerney said. "Don't let me hold you up."

"I'm in no hurry. How's the case shaping up?"

"We're still digging into the minutiae. Lieutenant Sedillo is sending the team out to canvas gas stations, motels, restaurants, and convenience stores from here to Carrizozo."

"Have any credit card charges surfaced on the victims' accounts?" Duran asked.

"Not a one, and none of the stolen items has been pawned or sold on the streets, as far as we know. How are you doing?"

"Getting close, Chief. Instead of using the rotating list of towing services like he was supposed to, Shockley favored a local company called Jake's. El Paso PD has been running undercover surveillance on an auto chop shop. Jake made a delivery last week-a top-of-the-line Chevy four-by-four, late model, extended cab pickup truck. The theft occurred at an Alamogordo motel parking lot during Shockley's shift."

"Did our department take the call?" Kerney asked, trying to stay even with Duran, who had picked up his pace a bit. "The city police handled it."

"Can you tie Shockley to Jake?"

"Jake has an employee, a guy by the name of Martinez, who covers the late-night runs. About five or six times during the last year Jake unexpectedly gave Martinez the night off."