Michael McGarity - Mexican Hat

Last year, Kerney was praised by Dona Ana County Sheriff Andy Baca for solving the case of a murdered soldier at White Sands Missile Range and recovering historical artifacts stolen from the military installation.

Kerney was serving as a lieutenant in the department at the time.

Carol Cassidy, supervisor of the Luna District Office, said that Kerney's performance on the job had been "exemplary." Assistant District Attorney Cox, who was recently appointed to her position, has not yet issued a statement. Attempts to reach Kevin Kerney for comment have been unsuccessful.

Coffee forgotten, she quickly scanned the related articles. Kerney deserved a hell of a lot better treatment than he was getting, she thought soberly.

He had no choice but to turn in the commission card. The state law was very clear: without a full-time salaried law-enforcement job, Kerney could not legally serve as a special investigator.

He was now simply a civilian with no police powers. *** Edgar Cox walked between his wife and daughter into the bright midmorning sun, his mind racing. The lump in his wife's breast was cancerous, of that the doctor was certain. The fact had stunned Edgar into silence. Margaret and Karen had asked all the questions during the consultation, while Edgar looked on blankly. He had listened to the discussion with a feeling of unreality as the doctor recommended a mastectomy. Margaret had put on her reading glasses, and with handwritten notes taken from her purse, had begun asking questions: good, solid inquiries about alternative treatments and less intrusive procedures.

Edgar had been amazed by her rock-solid performance.

She was tough as nails. The meeting had ended with Margaret agreeing to the operation as soon as possible.

Margaret stopped and looked up at him.

"You've been very quiet."

"I know. Sorry."

"Tell me what you're thinking," Margaret prodded.

"You're one tough cookie," Edgar replied, placing his arm around his wife's waist.

Margaret laughed and leaned against him.

"Are you just finding that out?"

"No, I knew it the day I met you."

"How do you feel about the operation?"

"Scared," Edgar answered.

"I don't want you to have to go through this."

"I'll be fine."

"Promise?"

Margaret nodded solemnly.

"Promise."

"That's good enough for me," Edgar said, hugging Margaret. He looked at Karen.

"How about you, Peanut? Think all this is going to work out?"

Karen forced a smile, trying to dispel the worry in her father's eyes.

"I think Mom's going to be with us for a very long time."

He reached for his daughter and pulled her close.

He felt her stiffen and looked down at her. Karen's expression was one of frank appraisal as she scanned his face. He had never seen that look from her before.

"God, I hope so," Edgar said.

Amador poked a finger under his T-shirt and scratched his belly button.

"I feel bad about what happened to Jimmy. Almost like it was my fault."

"Somebody was waiting for him at the mine," Kerney countered.

"Did you tell anyone else about the ATV tracks in the canyon?"

Using the same finger, Amador scratched under his lower lip and used his chin to point in the direction of his crew. The four men were at the back of the maintenance building, restocking construction materials and cleaning tools.

"We all saw the tracks," Amador replied.

"It wasn't a big deal or anything like that. A lot of people use off-road vehicles to get into the mountains.

I didn't even think about it until after the murder up on the meadows.

Then, when I remembered it, I thought it might be important."

Kerney restated: "Did you tell anybody about your suspicions, before or after you talked to Jim?"

"No. I was off yesterday. I just stayed at home working around the house. Didn't see anybody to talk to, except the family. Why are you asking me these questions? Shouldn't you be out looking for a job?"

"Do my questions bother you?" Kerney countered.

"It's no skin off my nose, but you're wasting your time. You got no job, no authority. So why push it? It ain't gonna make you any friends, not that you have any I know of."

Kerney shrugged.

"You're Henry Lujan's uncle.

Tell me about him. Is he having any kind of problems at college? Money worries, perhaps?"

Amador got red in the face.

"Madre de Dios, are you out in left field. If you think Henry's got anything to do with this, you're crazy."

"Everything's okay with Henry? Is that what you're saying?"

"I'm not saying anything," Amador corrected. He pointed at a small man with a receding hairline who was restacking plywood.

"That's Steve Lujan. Henry's father. Maybe he'll talk to you, maybe he won't.

But don't do it on my time, while he's working."

"What's the problem, Amador?"

"I don't have a problem, you do," he snorted, looking up at the gringo.

"Poking around in other people's business isn't healthy. You get my meaning?"

"It's been fun working with you, Amador. Thanks for all the help."

"Screw you," Amador replied.

Kerney walked out into the sunlight, thinking that it must have taken Steve Lujan a good long time to grow the Zapata mustache that drooped majestically over his upper lip. It also occurred to him that Amador was right: he hadn't made very many friends in Catron County.

Carol made a final check mark on the inventory control sheet and raised her head. She pushed the box filled with Kerney's uniforms, equipment, weapon, and shield to one side of her desk.

"That does it," she said, as Kerney dropped the keys to the ranger vehicle in her hand.

"I'll get you a ride back to Reserve."

"Thanks," Kerney replied.

"Anything happening you'd like to tell me about?"

Kerney tilted his head toward the open office door.

Carol got up and closed it.

"What is it?"

"What do you know about Henry and Steve Lujan?" Kerney asked.

"I need some background information, and Amador wasn't inclined to cooperate."

"That doesn't surprise me," Carol said, returning to her chair behind the desk.

"He keeps family matters to himself. Both Henry and Steve are temporary employees who work every summer for me.

Henry's a college student, and his father sells firewood, flagstone, and landscape rock to the folks in Silver City during the off-season."

"What do you know about Henry?"

"Not much. Amador recommended him to me.

He's been reliable. Uses the money he makes for his college living expenses. He went to school up in Albuquerque his first year. Didn't like being so far away from home, so he transferred to Western New Mexico University in Silver City. Is he a suspect?"

"No, but he's one of two people who were in the area when Padilla was murdered."

"That's stretching it," Carol replied.

"He was on duty at the lookout tower. I checked the radio log.

He couldn't possibly get to and from Eldennan Meadows in an hour.

Impossible. Who's the other person?"

"Amador," Kerney replied.

"He camped out at the construction site the night before we found Jose Padilla and his grandson's body."

"I didn't know that," Carol said, wrinkling her nose.

"Although he's done it before. It's not out of character."

"That's good to know. And Steve Lujan?"

"He got laid off at the copper mine down by Silver City. Three years ago, I think it was. Worked there for ten or fifteen years. Commuted home on the weekends. It must have hit him hard, financially.

He's got three kids in college. Henry's the youngest."

"Are all the kids still in school?"

"The oldest, Leonard, is working on a master's degree in El Paso. Henry and his sister are still going to Western as far as I know."