Michael McGarity - Mexican Hat

Solomon Luna and Thomas B. Catron, two political heavyweights during the first years of statehood, had written to Don Luis about investing in something called the American Valley Company, whatever the hell that was.

Until Stiles could find someone to do an adequate translation of the material, all he'd be able to tell Kerney was that Jose and Hector Padilla were descendants of the same clan that had settled the Mangas Valley, and that the government had challenged Padilla's title to his land holdings back in the early thirties.

The phone rang just as Stiles started in on another letter. He grabbed the receiver from the wallmounted telephone, hoping it was Kerney.

"Hombre," Amador Ortiz said.

"I hear you've changed jobs."

"What are you talking about, Amador?" "The Silver City newspaper. Jimmy.

It says you and Kerney are working for the sheriff and the district attorney."

"Shit! That story was supposed to be killed."

Amador chuckled.

"You know you can't keep a secret around here. So is it true?"

"It's a temporary thing. I'm still with Game and Fish. What's up?"

"I've been thinking about Kerney wanting to know if I saw anything suspicious around Mangas Mountain."

"What have you got?" Stiles tried to hold back the excitement from his voice.

"Maybe nothing. You know that old mine at the upper end of Padilla Canyon, north of the lookout tower? Last week I was with my crew barricading the road to the mine to keep hikers out of the canyon. I saw some tire tracks."

"What kind of tire tracks?"

"Looked like an ATV to me. T1-; morning I got to thinking you can get to the meadows from the upper canyon, pretty easy. At least you could before we blocked the road. A game trail runs from the mine to the meadows. Elk use it a lot. I thought maybe you'd want to pass that on to Kerney." "Hell yes. Thanks, mano," Stiles said.

"De nada, primo. You owe me a beer at Cattleman's if you find something."

"You got it," Stiles responded.

He hung up the phone, went quickly into a small second bedroom that served as his study, and pawed through the quadrangle maps on the desk.

If he remembered correctly, it was maybe a two-hour hike from the mouth of Padilla Canyon to the mine.

Stiles found the map and studied the contours. It was a no-sweat walk in the woods. With the map in his back pocket, he returned to the kitchen, gathered up Padilla's papers, and stuffed them into a manila envelope. He whistled to himself as he left the house and fired up the truck. He switched the radio frequency to the sheriffs department, and called in to report he was operational.

When the dispatcher responded, he gave his destination and ETA, and left a message for Kerney to meet him at Padilla Canyon. He thought about waiting for Kerney or asking for backup, and dismissed the idea. It would only slow him down.

Besides, ifAmador was right, he might have the first break in the case.

That would make Kerney sit up and take notice.

Damn! Nobody had thought to look north of the meadows in Padilla Canyon. The search had been concentrated south into the foothills and valley.

He'd buy Amador a case of beer if the tip panned out.

Stiles reached down and hit the switch to the emergency lights. He'd run with lights flashing all the way to the mouth of Padilla Canyon. It would save him a good thirty minutes.

Unexpectedly summoned to a meeting, Carol Cassidy sat in the small conference room at the Glenwood District Office with the forest supervisor from Silver City, the regional forester from Albuquerque, and Charlie Perry. Samuel Ellsworth Aldrich, the acting regional forester, a heavy-boned man with a double chin and thick lips, presided over the meeting. He had his suit jacket off, shirt sleeves rolled up, and tie loosened. He was smiling pleasantly at Carol.

Charlie and the regional forester were across the table. Perry whispered something to Aldrich, who nodded automatically back at Charlie. Jack Wyman, the forest supervisor and Carol's boss, a contemporary she had worked with for a number of years, avoided looking at her. It was not going to be a cordial meeting.

Aldrich concluded his opening remarks, which consisted of bitching about being unable to get out into the field as often as he would like. He spread his hands palms down on the table and gave Carol a patronizing smile.

"Thanks for coming down on such short notice, Carol," he said, nodding in Wyman's direction.

"Jack and I have some concerns we'd like to discuss with you."

"I'd like to hear them, Sam," Carol replied, wondering what in the hell was brewing. Her annual operational review by the regional office was months away. There had to be a special reason Aldrich wanted to see her.

"I got a telephone call this morning from an Associated Press reporter,"

Aldrich went on.

"She wanted to know if the Catron County sheriff and the ADA had usurped the state police investigation in the Elderman Meadows murder case. I told her I didn't have a clue what she was talking about. So she faxed me a copy of an article from the Silver City newspaper. She told me Gatewood gave the story to the newspaper. Have you seen it?"

"Yes."

"Is it accurate?"

"It is. Sheriff Gatewood called me after the fact to tell me about the appointments. I had no prior knowledge."

"I'll accept that." Aldrich stopped to clear his throat.

You damn well better, Carol thought to herself.

"To make a long story short, I called Jack for a briefing on the situation and he didn't know anything about it either. Charlie Perry filled me in. He was meeting with Jack when I called."

"You could have called me, Sam," Carol said, "instead of relying on secondhand information."

She shot a hard look in Charlie's direction.

"From a reporter," she added.

Aldrich smiled charmingly.

"That's why you're here. And that's why I flew in from Albuquerque to meet with you. What, exactly, is going on?"

"To set the record straight, the investigation hasn't been usurped. I've assigned an experienced investigator who is working in tandem with a state Game and Fish officer on the poaching case only.

Since the poaching and the murder may be tied together, it seemed the sensible thing to do."

Aldrich shook his head in disagreement.

"That's not how the state police feel about it. I got a call from the chief. He isn't happy with Sheriff Gatewood, the ADA, or you. Thinks the story is bad press for his department and nothing more than small town political posturing. I tend to agree. As hard as I tried to stop it, a follow-up article on our unusual involvement in the case is going to hit the Albuquerque paper this afternoon. And I've had calls from two television reporters while we were waiting for you to arrive.

They're asking pointed questions. Has the Forest Service lost confidence in the state police?

Why have a ranger and a Game and Fish officer been given authority by an assistant district attorney and the local sheriff to investigate a murder case? We've got a damage-control problem here, Carol. There is already too much resentment about the Forest Service in the community.

It has to be solved quickly."

Carol saw the writing on the wall.

"How do you want it solved?"

"The man you assigned to the investigation…"

Aldrich thumbed through some papers.

"Kevin Kerney. He's a temporary employee, correct?"

"That's right. Hired out of your office."

"Terminate him. I want you and the district out of this before it becomes an imbroglio. My staff has prepared a press release which should put the matter to rest. It will clearly state that we see a conflict of interest in having one of our employees reporting to another law enforcement agency, and that Mr. Kerney has been released from his job so that he can pursue the investigation for the district attorney."