Michael McGarity - Serpent Gate

"Thanks again. I think we would have lost the foal if you hadn't shown up."

"You're welcome," Kerney said as he tucked in his shirt and put on his jacket.

"So, you're a police officer."

"I'm an investigator with the state police."

"Why do you need to talk to me?" Stiffly, Nita walked to the sink and stood with her back to Kerney. A good five foot eight, she had a slender frame, much like Addie Randall's.

"I spoke with your sister earlier today."

She splashed water on her face, cleaned her arms, slipped on a plaid work shirt, and turned to face him.

"Really?"

"And Verdie Mae McNutt."

"I see."

"I also talked with Addie Randall. I understand you paid a visit to her in Socorro."

"Her mother and I have been friends since childhood Addie is someone I care about."

"Verdie Mae made that dear. You were seen talking to Robert Cordova in Mountainair on the day Paul Gillespie was murdered."

"I've known Robert for a long time."

"He was your foster brother."

"That's right."

"What secret do you want him to keep?"

Nita's eyes narrowed.

"Excuse me?"

"Where is Serpent Gate?"

"I've never heard of it."

"That's not what Robert said."

Nervously, Nita used her fingers to comb her hair.

"If you've talked to Robert, you know that he's not completely rational."

"Not always," Kerney agreed.

"But two thoughts seem to occupy his mind: a place called Serpent Gate and rape. Do you know why he spends so much time thinking about those two things?"

"I have no idea."

"Addie was raped, wasn't she?"

"I think that's a safe assumption."

"Did she tell you who did it?"

"Addie won't talk about it."

"Not with just anybody," Kerney said.

"But maybe she would tell someone close to her. Someone who would understand what happened."

"I don't know what you mean by that."

The more Kerney looked at Nita, the stronger her resemblance to Addle seemed. He dedded to roll the dice.

"Does Addie know you're her mother?"

"That's absurd." Nita's voice rose several notches.

"Why would Lurline lie to me about your friendship with Robert Cordova?"

"I have no idea."

"Then lie to me again about your family nickname?

It's Addie, isn't it?"

"I think I've heard enough." Nita walked to her medical bag and started repacking it. Her hands were shaking.

"I think it's more than a coinddence that you and Addie share the same name."

Nita snapped the bag closed.

"I have to go now." Her eyes blinked rapidly, filling with tears, and she walked quickly past Kerney into the biting late-afternoon wind.

"Did you kill Paul Gfflespie?"

"Why would I do that?" Nita opened the passenger door to her truck and put the bag on the seat, hiding her face from Kerney.

"Because he raped Addie."

Nita sagged against the door.

"Who told you that?"

"Addie," Kerney lied.

"Is she your daughter?"

"You'll have to figure that out by yourself." Nita closed the passenger door and walked to the driver's side of the truck. A sheen of perspiration showed on her upper lip.

Kerney followed and stopped at the front fender.

"You need to talk about this, Nita," he said softly.

"You can't keep carrying it around. It's eating you up. You're sweating and shaking."

"I don't want to talk to you," Nita responded, her voice drained. She opened the driver's door, got inside, and gave him a feeble smile.

"Good-bye, Mr. Kerney."

Kerney held the truck door open as she tried to pull it shut, and played his last card.

"Robert did tell me one thing that may interest you."

"What's that?"

"He saw you leaving the police station the night Gillespie was shot."

Nita sagged.

"Oh, poor Robert." The words came out in a whisper.

"Our friendship has cost him so much. Is he okay?"

"You saw him there, didn't you?"

Nita bit her lip and nodded.

"Tell me about your relationship with Paul Gillespie."

"Paul was my classmate in high school."

"Was he a friend?"

"Hardly that."

"You didn't like him?"

"I couldn't stand him."

"You wanted to confront him about Addie. I can understand that. He raped your daughter."

Nita laughed harshly.

"Addie was Paul's daughter, too, Mr. Kerney. I left town when I found out I was pregnant. He never knew about Addie and Addie doesn't know about him."

"You're leaving something out, Nita. Finish the story."

Nita's shoulders sagged further.

"Paul raped me during my senior year in high school. Robert saw it happen."

"When did you decide to kill him?"

"When Addie told me what Paul had done."

Kerney sidestepped around the door so he could have a dear view of Nita.

"Tell me how it happened."

"He was cleaning his pistol when I went to see him. I had a gun in my handbag. I was just going to kill him and leave. But I got scared. He grabbed me before I could walk out and gave me this hug-grinding himself against me. I felt like I was being raped all over again. I pushed him away, picked up his pistol from the desk, and pulled the trigger."

"Get out of the truck," Kerney said softly.

"Lurline called me right after you went to see her. I knew you would find me."

"Step out of the truck."

Nita shook her head. She turned her back to Kerney and her left hand disappeared into the center console between the bucket seats.

"Put your hands in plain view and get out of the truck." Kerney unholstered his weapon and leveled the nine-millimeter at Nita.

"I'm not a very good murderer," Nita said. As she turned to face Kerney, her hand came up holding a pistol.

She pressed the muzzle against her temple.

"Too much of a conscience, I guess."

"Drop the gun," Kerney said.

Nita shook her head and began to squeeze the trigger.

Too far away to make a grab, Kerney fired once. The bullet caught Nita below the shoulder and jarred her arm a fraction of a second before she squeezed the trigger.

The round went through the roof of the truck.

He was on her before she could recover. He yanked the gun away, pulled her out of the truck, stretched her on the ground, opened her shirt, and examined the wound. It was bleeding freely but was not life threatening. He had never shot a woman before and it wasn't an experience he wanted to repeat.

"Why didn't you just kill me?" she asked.

"Too much of a conscience, I guess," he replied.

West of Santa Fe, in a subdivision exclusively for the very rich, Enrique De Leon waited in his expansive living room. Pinon logs crackling in a stone fireplace at the far end of the room provided the only light.

De Leon watched the reflection of the flames flickering in the large glass windows, which by day afforded a stunning view of the Sangre de Cristo foothills and mountains.

De Leon checked his wristwatch; it was twenty minutes to first light, and according to the timetable he had established, Carlos Ruiz should already have returned.

He was about to become annoyed when headlights came into view at the bottom of the private road and paused briefly at the security gate. He watched the vehicle travel up the hill and turn into the driveway.

When he heard the quiet whir of the garage door opener from the lower level of the house, he smiled and closed his eyes. carlos Ruiz hurried up the stairs. The job had gone well, but he was late. And the jefe expected his instructions to be followed exactly, no matter what got in the way. He walked through the kitchen and slowed his steps down the long gallery hall to the living room. The hand-carved doors stood open, and at the far end of the room a fireplace glow cast just enough illumination for Carlos to see De Leon shape in the chair.