Michael McGarrity - Hermit_s Peak

"This land is posted," he said to the woman. The six passengers with her all looked very young.

"No trespassing."

"I have the owner's permission," Ruth Pino said.

"The owner is dead," Nestor replied.

"The new owner is very much alive," Ruth replied, studying the man. He was about her father's age, perhaps a few years older, and his voice conveyed the tone of a man who expected to be obeyed.

"Who is the new owner?"

"Kevin Kerney. He inherited the property from Erma Pergurson."

The name registered with Nestor.

"Does he walk with a limp?"

"Yes, he does."

"And you are sure he is the owner?"

"I doubt that Mr. Kerney would lie to me," Ruth replied.

"He is the deputy chief of the state police.

Would you mind telling me who you are?"

"I hold the lease on this property," Nestor said, concealing his surprise about Kerney and his profession.

Why had the man not told him who he was?

"Then you must be Nestor Barela," Ruth said.

"I am."

"You can't deny us entry," Ruth noted.

"Why are you here?"

"Fieldwork, Mr. Barela. There is a very rare plant on this land, and it must be protected."

"What kind of plant?" Nestor asked.

"A cactus," Ruth said. She described it in detail.

"I have seen it."

Ruth's eyes widened in expectation.

"You must show us where."

"I have no time to hunt for plants," Nestor said.

"Where did you find this cactus?"

"At the wood poaching site," Ruth answered, "on the west side of the mesa."

"How much timber was taken?"

Ruth shook her head sadly.

"Par too much."

"I will go with you," Nestor said.

"I wish to see what has been done."

Ruth smiled.

"We'll follow you."

It was midmorning when Susie Hayes took Sara's call in her Tucson office. After listening to Sara, Susie decided to take the rest of the day off and spend it with her friend. She had never heard Sara sound so pensive.

She asked where Sara was calling from, gave her directions to her townhouse, and beat her home by twenty minutes. When the doorbell rang she opened it to find Sara smiling apologetically.

Susie gave her a hug and pulled her inside.

"You look wiped out, girl. Did you drive straight through?"

Sara nodded.

"Thanks for putting up with me."

She laughed and took Sara into the living room.

"I owe you a bushel full of favors. I wouldn't have made it through the academy if it hadn't been for you always telling me to finish what I started."

"Maybe I didn't do you a favor."

Situated in the foothills, Susie's townhouse had excel 5 lent views of the mountains to the east and the city below. She got Sara settled on the couch that faced a large picture window and sat next to her.

"Yes, you did. Colonel."

Sara looked surprised.

"You heard about that?"

"I may have left active duty, but I'm still tied into the grapevine.

You did a hell of a job on the DMZ. Congratulations."

"Thanks."

"Now, tell me about this cop you're in love with."

" I never said anything about being in love."

Susie stifled a laugh with her hand.

"What?" Sara demanded.

"Oh, do you talk about having a baby with every man you sleep with?"

Sara looked at her friend. Susie's gray eyes smiled back at her.

"I like him a lot," Sara said. It sounded defensive.

Susie ran her hand through her chestnut hair, put her feet on the cushions, and wrapped her arms around her knees.

"Let's have it, Sara, and I mean full disclosure.

We've got all day, tonight, and tomorrow, if needed."

Gabe stopped by the county sheriff's office and got fresh crime statistics for the first quarter of the new year.

Thefts and break-ins in San Geronimo had continued to rise, and none had been cleared. Somebody was having a hell of a lot of success ripping people off in the valley.

At home Gabe worked the phone. Connecting the dots between Rudy Espinoza and Joaquin Santistevan proved more difficult than he'd expected. He'd assumed that the phone company would be able to verify a call from the wood lot to Angie Romero's residence about the time Gabe had left, but no such call was made.

Gabe tried the cellular providers, hoping either Rudy orjoaquin were customers with one of the companies.

He came up empty with the local companies, worked the out-of-town providers, and struck out again.

The exercise took him the better part of the morning.

He left the house wondering how in the helljoaquin had gotten in touch with Rudy. Without confirmation that Joaquin had ripped Espinoza, Gabe didn't want to make any premature moves.

He decided to stake out Buena Vista Lumber and Supply to see if Joaquin left the office for lunch. If so, he would do a little snooping and talk to the employees.

He found a good spot where he wouldn't be noticed and settled down to wait. The lunch hour came and went, and Gabe was about to call it off when Santistevan's truck appeared and turned onto the highway, traveling south. Gabe wondered where Joaquin was headed.

There wasn't much along the state road for a good thirty-odd miles-certainly no place to grab a quick lunch.

He drove into the lot half-expecting to be recognized, but the two employees on duty were not people he knew. One man was busy checking out a customer's load, while the other worked at a large pile of wood chips, bagging the material in burlap sacks.

He parked and made a show of inspecting fencing materials before wandering over to the worker bagging chips, where the odor of fresh-cut, green pinon wood greeted him.

"You need some help?" the man asked, as he tied off a bag and tossed it to one side. Anglo and in his mid-thirties, the man had long hair that was skinned tight against his head and tied in a bun at the nape of his neck.

"Not really," Gabe said.

"Do you sell that stuff or give it away?" he asked, nodding at the mound of chips.

"Sell it," the man answered as he kept working.

"Texans buy it to use in their fireplaces. They don't have much pinon to burn and they like the smell of it. Put a few chips in with the logs and it gives a nice aroma."

"You're kidding."

"It's true. A trucker hauls three or four semi loads a year to Lubbock, Amarillo, even Dallas."

"A local trucker?"

"Yeah, Lenny Aland, from Anton Chico, does the hauling."

"How well did you know Rudy Espinoza?"

The man stopped working and looked directly at Gabe.

"What's it to you?"

Technically Gabe had no official powers while on administrative leave, so there was no need to identify himself as a cop.

"Rudy's family isn't happy with what happened. I'm looking into it."

"Wasn't that something? Yeah, I knew Rudy. He worked here for a while until the boss fired him."

"Joaquin?"

"No, Philip. Rudy had sticky fingers."

"He was stealing?"

"Yeah, little crap. Hand tools, fence posts, partial rolls of leftover wire-stuff like that."

"When did he work here?"

"Last summer. I think he got the boot in August."

"What was his job?"

"Yard worker, just like me."

"Who did he hang with?"

"Nobody, really. Joaquin, a little bit. You know, the brother-in-law thing."

"Do you remember the truck he drove?"

"A beat-up Toyota. Piece of shit."

"Nothing else?"

"That's all I ever saw him in. Is Rudy's family gonna hire a lawyer and sue the shit out of the cops for shooting Rudy?"

"Possibly."

"Nobody should get wasted for just being a thief."

"You're not wrong," Gabe replied.

Approaching Ojitos Frios, Gabe hoped the rumors circulating about the Rudy Espinoza shooting hadn't reached Angie Romero. He didn't want to face an angry, uncooperative drunk with an attitude.