Michael McGarrity - The Judas judge

"I want confirmation on who he is, who the granddaughter is, and whether or not anyone else has access to his telephone."

"We have an agent from the Albuquerque district office rolling on it now."

In the morning, Kerney checked his unit for damage, found none, did a short run, and called Sara at Fort Leavenworth, half-hoping she'd already left her quarters for class. She answered on the first ring.

"How are you?" he asked.

"Pumped," Sara answered. "We start the advanced military studies sequence today. The Civil War. Grant's Vicksburg campaign. I've been reading all about it. Very exciting stuff. You never call me in the morning. What's up, sweetie pie?"

Kerney told her about Isabel Istee, Clayton, and the two grand children.

"My, my," Sara said.

Kerney waited for more, but Sara remained silent. "That's it?" he finally asked.

"I'm thinking."

"I swear, I knew nothing about this."

"You lead a shockingly interesting life, Kerney." Kerney caught a hint of amusement in Sara's voice.

"The Irish are cursed that way," he said.

"I'm not sure I like the idea of being married to a man who's a grandfather."

"Don't say that."

"This has thrown you, hasn't it?"

"It's a little unsettling."

"I'm a bit stunned by the news myself," Sara said. "You're absolutely sure about this?"

"I have no reason to doubt it."

"Then we'll just have to accept it."

"It's not a problem for you?"

"Well, the upside is that now I know you can father children."

"Is that supposed to be funny?"

"But I don't like the idea of an old love suddenly reappearing in your life."

"You're still kidding, right?"

"Of course I am. Don't go getting insecure on me, Kerney. This wasn't a situation of your making. When do I get to meet your new family?"

"I'm not sure that will happen. I'm not perceived as a welcome addition to the clan."

"It sounds complex. I'll try not to add to the confusion."

"Meaning?"

"Having a husband who's a grandfather isn't something I've had to consider before. But it doesn't make me love you any less."

"That's what I wanted to hear. I need to get going."

"Be careful out there, grandpa."

"Give me a break," Kerney groaned.

"You're tough, you can take it."

Agent Robert Duran checked out of the motel, threw his luggage filled with dirty laundry into the unit's trunk, and slammed the lid. Getting pulled off the vandalism case by Lieutenant Sedillo to be sent on a three-day road trip to backtrack on Eric Langsford was irritating.

Because Duran was part of the Internal Affairs Unit, Sedillo had asked-not ordered-Robert to take the assignment, knowing full well that turning down the request could sully Robert's reputation as a gung-ho officer. With his eye on an upcoming sergeant's vacancy in criminal investigations, Robert couldn't afford any bad raps about his dedication to the job.

He sat in his unit and studied a map, mentally tracing the route Eric Langsford said he'd taken after quitting the band in Maria, Texas. The pivotal issue hinged on where Langsford had been last Thursday night.

Robert decided to work Langsford's drunken travels home in reverse order, starting with his last stop in Juarez, an easy eighty-mile drive from the Oliver Lee State Park.

If he could confirm that Langsford had been within striking distance on the night of the murders and didn't have an alibi, it would make him a prime suspect.

Robert tossed the map on the seat and thought about the vandalism case he'd been forced to put on the back burner. Chasing down the person who'd disabled and damaged Chief Kerney's unit was no small matter, especially given the strong likelihood that a cop could have done it in retaliation for the Shockley shooting.

Duran couldn't see a civilian sneaking around a motel where a bunch of cops were staying, or even knowing which car Kerney drove. And some of the smug reactions from Shockley's buddies at the city PD about the vandalism made it clear that there were those who believed Kerney deserved a payback. It wasn't a stretch to believe that the situation could easily escalate into a physical attack against the chief.

With no hard target outside the department on the horizon, Duran had asked all district personnel and the agents working the spree killings to account for their time during the two incidents. It hadn't gained him any new friends or valuable information, so he'd been about to start working the bars where Shockley had hung out when Sedillo dropped the Langsford assignment on him.

So be it, he thought glumly, switching his attention to the field notes on Eric Langsford. If nothing panned out in Jufirez, he would be spending his time in shit kicking bars and backwater border towns for the next three days.

Across the parking lot, he watched Chief Kerney limp to his unit, inspect it carefully, and drive away.

Last spring, Robert had worked a murder case in northern New Mexico on ranch land the chief had inherited. According to the scuttlebutt, Kerney was about to cash out the land, pay the taxes, and still have a hefty seven-figure bankroll. With that kind of money Kerney could've walked away from it all and never looked back.

That wasn't the chief's style, Robert decided, as he pulled into traffic, heading south.

After discovering that Eric had been bailed out of jail on the misdemeanor drug possession charge by Drew Randolph, who'd left with Langsford in tow, Kerney drove to Roswell.

Randolph greeted Kerney at Linda Langsford's door with a haughty expression. "Don't you think it was bad form not to tell Linda you had her brother locked up in jail?" he asked.

"I saw no reason to add to her worries," Kerney answered. "Where is Eric now?"

"In the guest bedroom, sleeping off the bottle of whiskey he drank after I brought him here last night."

"And Ms. Langsford?"

"I'll get her for you."

Linda Langsford entered the screened porch with Randolph close behind.

She pressed her hand into his and kissed him on the cheek. "I'll be fine, Drew. You go along."

"You're sure?" Randolph asked, shooting Kerney a hard look. Linda nodded, and her long hair swept across her face, hiding it.

Randolph breezed by Kerney and out the front door without a word.

"Do I need to hire an attorney for Eric?" Linda asked, pushing her hair away with a shaky hand. Dark circles under her eyes clashed with the gold frames of her glasses.

"He's only facing a misdemeanor possession charge right now," Kerney said.

"Aren't you here to arrest him for murder?"

"Do you think he killed your father?"

She shook her head to ward off the question. "And five other innocent people? I can't comprehend how anybody can do that, Mr. Kerney. Eric, especially."

"You don't think he's capable of murder?"

"Don't ask me to incriminate my brother."

"I was asking for your opinion."

"Eric told me that you suspect him."

"He has a weak alibi and admits to wanting your father dead. Why is that?"

"He told you how my father tormented him. Can't you understand his anger over that kind of treatment?"

"Anger can turn into rage and murder."

"Save the pop psychology for somebody else, Mr. Kerney. You've seen him, you've talked to him. He can barely cope. He's almost always stoned, high, or drunk. He's been this way since high school."

"I understand both you and Eric held your father accountable for the death of your mother."

"Given the circumstances, surely you can understand why."

"And now your father is dead."

"Murdered by a nameless spree killer, unless you have evidence to the contrary. Do you?"

"Was your father abusive to you?"

"My God, you don't quit, do you? My father was a stern man who expected his children to be perfect. Eric failed him because he chose to live in a drug-induced-dream-world."