Michael McGarrity - The Judas judge

"Let me guess," Kerney said, slowing down, forcing Duran to do the same. "The last time that happened was the night the Chevy was stolen."

"After Jake took a call from Shockley."

"Make the collar, and thanks," Kerney said, dropping his pace to a walk.

"For what, Chief?"

"Giving me an idea. A couple of nights ago, I drove the route the killer used. There's hardly any late-night traffic once you get out of Alamogordo. I checked all the patrol logs-city, county, and our district office. There were no traffic stops or accidents on the night of the murders. But I didn't think to survey the tow truck operators."

I'll let you know if Jake had a service call that night," Duran said. "Are you heading back?"

"Yeah," Kerney said, trying hard to keep his breathing slow and even.

"You run pretty good on that bad knee," Duran said.

"I do a great ten-minute mile," Kerney said.

"At least you're still running. Look, Chief, if you want me to, I can ask around about the vandalism to your unit. I know some of the officers with the city, and Shockley had a couple of drinking buddies in our department."

"If the problem persists, I might do that."

"Just let me know."

Kerney nodded and watched Duran take off in smooth, even strides before turning around and forcing his bum leg to move along in his customary choppy, sloppy gait.

In the motel parking lot Kerney saw Lee Sedillo with a flashlight in hand moving from unit to unit.

"Your vehicle got trashed," Lee said, when Kerney joined up with him.

"None of the others were touched."

"What did they do this time?"

"The headlights, taillights, and side view mirrors are smashed. I heard the noise about five minutes ago."

Kerney circled his unit, inspecting the damage. "Have Agent Duran look into it, Lee."

"About time," Lee grumbled. "This could turn into some spooky shit, Chief."

"Can you get me a replacement vehicle for the day?"

"Take mine. I'll put an agent on duty at the command trailer for a few hours until we can get your unit repaired."

After showering and dressing, Kerney went to the command center. The agent Lee had pulled off the street because of the vehicle shuffle was busy at a computer. He nodded at the woman, went to the tiny office, called Andy Baca in Santa Fe, and updated him on the status of the investigation.

Then he started calling every towing service in the area-except Jake's. Halfway through the list, Kerney scored. A trucker had broken down on the highway in front of the Three Rivers turnoff.

"You know where the old bar is?" the towing operator asked. "It's a curio shop now."

"I do," Kerney said.

"The trucker was stalled there with a busted water pump. We had to unhitch the trailer and tow the semi into Alamogordo."

"What time?"

"I got the call about two, but it took me a while to get there. I had to go to the yard and get my big rig. I arrived at about three, three-fifteen."

"Do you have information on the driver?"

"Yeah. He's an owner-operator out of Little Rock. Hold on, I'll get it for you."

Kerney waited, listening to the man's breathing and the shuffling of papers.

"His name is Clark Beck." The towing operator read off Beck's address and telephone number.

"Did you see anything unusual while you were on the call?"

"Like what?"

"Speeders, a vehicle turning into or coming out of Three Rivers Road."

The man laughed. "Everybody speeds at that time of night. There was no traffic on the Three Rivers Road while I was there, leastways not that I can remember."

"Thanks," Kerney said.

Kerney dialed Clark Beck's number in Little Rock, spoke to his wife, and explained the reason for his call. The woman told him Beck was on a run to New Orleans, then to Atlanta, and wouldn't be back for four days.

"Does he call home from the road?"

"Sometimes," Mrs. Beck said. "Not always on his shorter trips. Is this on the up-and-up?"

"Your husband isn't in any trouble, Mrs. Beck. I just need to ask him a few questions."

"You're sure?"

"Positive."

"He follows all the regulations and weight restrictions."

"I'm certain that he does. Could you have him call me?"

I'll give him the message."

On the off chance there had been more than one disabled vehicle along the highway, Kerney continued working the list, but nothing more developed. He hung up to find Clayton Istee standing stiffly in the doorway.

"Officer," Kerney said.

"I brought you something," Clayton said, sliding a manila folder quickly across the desk. He stepped back to the door as if to avoid any closer contact.

"What is this?"

"A list of the employees who worked at the tribal casino and resort at the time Langsford's wife was killed. My cousin is the personnel director. He got it for me."

"This won't get you in trouble, will it?" Kerney asked, as he opened the envelope. "Thanks for doing this."

"I'm not doing it for you," Clayton said. He rubbed his palms together and stopped when Kerney looked at him. "My wife thinks I should at least let you meet your grandchildren."

"How do you feel about it?" Kerney asked, eyeing Clayton's closed expression.

"I don't know." Clayton shifted his weight. "Would you like to meet them?"

"Only if you want me to."

I'll have to think about it some more."

"This isn't easy on either of us, is it?" Kerney said, trying to melt Clayton's icy tone.

"Have you told your wife about me?" Clayton asked.

"Not yet," Kerney said.

"Maybe it's something you'd rather not tell her."

"That's not true."

"So you say," Clayton replied, as he swung around to leave.

"Thanks again," Kerney said.

"I already told you, I'm not doing it for you," Clayton answered over his shoulder.

"Still, I appreciate it."

"Just don't read anything personal into it, okay?"

"Whatever you say," Kerney replied. He watched Clayton leave, wondering exactly what it was Clayton had tried to tell him. If it wasn't personal, where was the help coming from?

The employee list came with social security numbers and birth dates. Eric Langsford's name was on the books as a groundskeeper. Kerney made a copy and waited for Agent Mary Margaret Lovato to get off the phone.

Mary Margaret had inherited her given names from an Irish grandmother. She was an exceptionally attractive young woman with long jet-black hair, a creamy complexion, and soft brown eyes that hid her toughness. She hung up and started talking before Kerney had a chance to speak.

"That was Drew Randolph, Chief. He just got off the phone with Linda Langsford. He told her about her father's murder. She's cutting short her vacation and coming home right away. He said she was totally stunned by the news."

"Where is she now?"

"Randolph doesn't know. She said she'd get back to Roswell as fast as she can. She should be there this evening."

"Good deal," Kerney said, handing Mary Margaret the employee list. "Get me wants and warrants, plus state arrest and conviction records for all the people on this list. Highlight everybody from Langsford's judicial district."

"This is going to take some time, Chief."

"I know."

Mary Margaret stood up, paused, and bit her lower lip.

"Do you have a question?"

"I just wanted to say that Randy Shockley was an asshole, sir. I attended a training course with him in Albuquerque last year. The man didn't understand the meaning of the word no."

"He came on to you?"

"Big time."

"Did you report it?"

"No, but it was pretty intense."

"The next time you get hit on or harassed by a fellow officer, report it, Agent Lovato."

Mary Margaret laughed. "Would you like a daily or weekly report, Chief?"

"It's that bad?"

Mary Margaret shook her head. "It's mostly harmless stuff. I can handle it."