Michael McGarrity - Hermit_s Peak

"SP 101."

"Go," said Captain Garduno.

"Are you assuming command?" Gabe asked.

"I'm along for the ride. Sergeant."

"ETA?" Gabe asked as he reached the overpass to the interstate.

"I see you crossing the bridge now," Garduno said.

"One minute."

"Ten-four. Join up."

"Give me your fucking car keys," Rudy Espinoza said as he hung up the phone.

"Use your own truck," Angle said.

"I've got to go to town later."

Rudy dumped the contents of Angle's purse on the kitchen counter, found the keys, and pulled all the cash out of her wallet.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Angie asked, grabbing for her purse.

"Nothing," Rudy said as he pushed her away and walked into the bedroom.

"If the cops come, you haven't seen me."

"I don't know why I ever took you back," Angle yelled at him.

"You're no fucking prize yourself," Rudy said, sticking the thirty-eight and a handful of folded bills in his jacket pocket.

"I'll call you later."

"Don't bother."

He got in the Mustang, fired it up, and peeled out of the driveway.

Angle stood on the front step giving him the finger as he swung onto the county road.

If the cops were looking for him like Joaquin said, it was time to go south.

Ben Morfin topped the hill into Ojitos Prios and saw a car throwing up a dust cloud on the county road at the far end of the valley.

"Someone is coming your way. Sergeant," he said into the microphone.

"I'm too far back to ID it, but he's moving fast."

"Location?" Gabe snapped.

"About a mile outside Ojitos Frios."

"Shut down your Code Three and close up."

"Ten-four."

Gabe keyed his hand microphone again, slowed his unit, and killed the overhead lights.

"SP 101."

"I'm on your tail," Garduno said.

"Block the road behind me."

"Roger."

"I'll join with SP 101," Houge said.

"ETA five minutes."

"Ten-four. All other units, stay on station," Gabe said.

"Let's see what we've got."

"We've got a tan Mustang," Ben Morfin said.

"Can't read the plate. He's spewing up so much dust he can't see me.

I've got him docked at seventy-five."

"Lights and siren, Ben. See if he stomps it."

"He just goosed it."

"Pall back and give him some slack," Gabe said. He swung his vehicle into the center of the road where the shoulders fell off sharply, un racked the shotgun, and called dispatch.

"Go ahead, SP 126."

"SP 126 will be attempting a traffic stop of an unknown vehicle speeding on County Road A-twenty."

"Traffic stop. CR A-twenty. Ten-four. Fourteen-twenty-three hours."

He put one round in the chamber, got out of the unit, and walked to a tree twenty feet off the shoulder of the road. He could see the dust spreading into the canopy of the trees, and could hear the harsh sound of Morfin's siren closing in.

The Mustang tore into view, suspension bucking over the washboard road.

Gabe watched as the driver stood on the brakes, over corrected his steering, went into a skid that spun the vehicle like a top, and put it nose first into the deep shoulder.

He could hear me hiss of radiator steam and the squeal of metal as the driver opened the car door. Through the dissipating dust, two hands emerged and grasped the roof of the car. Legs followed, feet found the ground, and Rudy Espinoza pulled himself out of the Mustang.

The lights from Ben Morfin's unit cut through the haze twenty feet down the road. Ben was crouched behind the open door of his unit with his weapon at the ready.

"Rudy," Gabe called, raising the shotgun to his shoulder.

"Walk toward me with your hands over your head.

Do it now!"

Hands raised, Espinoza moved sluggishly up the embankment and started walking across the road.

"Stop," Gabe called when Rudy reached the middle of the road.

"Lock your hands at the back of your head and drop slowly to your knees. Do it now."

Espinoza sank to his knees and started to lower his hands.

"Hands up," Gabe yelled.

"Now."

"I can't," Rudy said.

"Something is wrong with my head." He raised his left hand and fell facedown on the ground with his right arm concealed under his body.

"Bring your right hand out where I can see it," Gabe ordered.

Rudy didn't move.

"Don't!"

"Kiss my ass," Rudy said as he rose to his knees and pulled out a pistol.

"Gun!" Morfin hollered as Gabe pulled the trigger.

Gabe heard the crack of Ben's nine millimeter as the blast of his shotgun echoed in his ears. Rudy jerked under the impact, rocked back on his heels, and fell forward on his face.

Gabe racked another shell into the chamber while Morfin drded behind Rudy, kicked the pistol away, and checked the body.

"He's dead," Ben said as he bolstered his weapon.

"The stupid son of a bitch," Gabe said, lowering the shotgun. He held it tight to keep his hands from shaking.

After hanging up on Kerney, Sara tried without success to reach Susie Hayes at home. Susie, her best friend at West Point, was now a civilian living in Tucson. She thought about calling Susie at work, but took Shoe on a long walk instead, wandering for several hours through quiet neighborhood streets. Overhanging trees thick with buds about to blossom into leaves lined row after row of a charming mixture of older homes. Some were Victorian, some were flat-roof adobe casitas, and others were California mission style. Sprinkled throughout the neighborhood were red-brick cottages that had been turned into apartments, and midwest em farmhouses with pitched roofs that looked as though they had been magically transported to Santa Fe from Kansas wheat fields.

Very little else on the walk registered with Sara. She spent the time chiding herself for acting like such a brainless schoolgirl with Kerney. Where did all her silliness come from? She'd never intended to come to Santa Fe and talk about babies and keeping a stud book. Kerney seemed to take it all in jest, which was almost as troubling. He was the only man she'd ever mentioned the possibility of making babies with, and she wondered if he'd caught her serious undertone. But did she really want a baby? Did she really want Kerney to be the man in her life?

She returned to Kerney's house and let Shoe off the leash. He went directly to the kitchen, drank his water bowl dry, and curled up on the vinyl floor with his chin resting on the sneaker.

She refilled the water bowl, sat at the kitchen table, kicked off her shoes, and looked at Shoe. He was such a sweet dog. He eyed her shoes with interest. She decided to ease up on herself. She needed to decompress and get the last two years behind her. Her virtual isolation in South Korea, immersed in a male-dominated, combat-ready unit had taken its toll. The rewards had been satisfying. But sublimating almost every feminine feeling had been more emotionally expensive than she'd realized. Maybe being with a sexy man after so long without any healthy lovemaking had opened up her hormonal floodgates, and her confusion was nothing other than a readjustment to a more normal life.

Peeling less unsettled, she got to her feet, snagged her shoes before the dog could pounce on them, and walked into the living room, glad that her first attempt to reach Susie had been unsuccessful. All she would have done was blabber. Now, at least she had her head screwed on somewhat straight.

She found her address book, looked up Susie's work number, and dialed it. When Susie answered, she told her a fraction of what was going on inside her head, and asked if she could come for a visit.

"Get your butt down here, girl," Susie said.

"We've got some serious talking to do."

"I'll be there sometime tomorrow."

"Call me when you get into town."

Sara hung up. She would wait for Kerney to return before leaving. He deserved some sort of explanation, but she wasn't sure exactly what it would be.