Michael McGarrity - Hermit_s Peak

"Jito," Nestor said.

"I've been looking for you."

"What is it?"

Nestor held out a business card.

"That policeman, Kerney, wants to speak to you."

"Me?" Bernardo took the card.

"Yes, you. Your uncle Roque said that you've already spoken to him once, about some girl. What is this all about?"

"I don't know, Abuelo. What did he ask you about me?"

"Nothing really. He wanted to know if I let you use my truck."

"I already talked to him about that," Bernardo said.

"I have nothing more to tell him."

"Be polite and respectful, Bernardo. Speak with Senor Kerney, answer his questions, and be done with it."

Bernardo nodded abruptly, got back in his car, and slammed the door.

"Where are you going?" Nestor asked.

"It is late and you have work to do in the morning."

"I forgot something."

Bernardo peeled rubber out of the driveway, tailpipes rumbling as he shifted into a higher gear. He cruised past the burger joint, saw Orlando's car, and made a quick decision not to bother him at work. In the morning, he would call and find out if Orlando had talked to the gringo cop Kerney and what, if anything, Orlando had said.

His plans for Jessica would have to wait for a day or two.

Orlando woke up from a dream where he was lost in some strange city that was impossible to leave. No matter which way he went, every route took him back to a block of windowless, silent buildings on an empty street with no cars or people.

He got out of bed thinking that if he waited until the end of the semester to move to Albuquerque, it might be too late.

He showered, shaved, returned to his room, sat at his desk, and figured out how much money he could pull together if he split. If he used his car insurance payment, the two hundred bucks he had in savings, and his last paycheck, he could come up with about seven hundred dollars.

His stomach sank as the realization hit him that running away wouldn't change anything. His life would still be fucked. He threw the scrap of paper in the wastebasket, got to his feet, and slung his daypack over his shoulder. If he left now, maybe Dad would still be in the shower when he hit the front door. The phone rang as he reached for his jacket.

"Did a state cop named Kerney talk to you?"

Bernardo asked when Orlando answered.

"Yeah, last night" "What about?"

"You."

"What did you say?"

"Nothing."

"We need to meet."

"Why?"

"To get our stories straight, before the cop gets all suspicious."

"How did he get on to you?"

"The bitch used to work at a place out near my ahuelo's ranch. He's just talking to people who might have known her."

"I thought you didn't know her."

"I already told you I didn't."

"So why is the cop interested in you?"

"He's interested in both of us, bro. He asked me about driving around Ojitos Prios in my grandfather's truck with somebody last April. Does he know that was you?"

"We're screwed," Orlando said.

"Does he know that was you?" Bernardo demanded.

"No. What are we going to do?"

"Come up with something simple about where we were and what we did. Get our stories straight. Back each other up. He already talked to my grandfather. He wants to talk to me again."

"Shit!"

"We gotta meet."

"Okay."

"Some place where no one will see us. How about down by the Gallinas River where we used to party in high school?"

"That's miles from here."

"It's halfway to town from my grandfather's ranch."

"When?"

"Can you make it by ten?"

"Yeah."

"Just don't say anything to your old man."

"I'm not stupid, Bernardo," Orlando said as he hung up the phone.

He hurried down the stairs, saw his father sitting at the kitchen table, and stopped in the doorway.

"Hey, champ, who was on the phone?" Gabe asked.

"A guy from school. He wants to borrow my class notes. Gotta go."

"Give me a minute before you take off."

Orlando stepped into the kitchen.

"Sure."

"My deputy chief wants to talk to you about Bernardo."

"He already did, last night."

"What did he want to know?"

"Just who Bernardo's friends were."

"What eke did he ask?"

"He asked me if Bernardo was popular widt the girl, and if I ever went cruising with him."

"That's it?"

"Pretty much. Oh yeah, he wanted to know about somebody named Luiza."

"Luiza who?"

"San Miguel. I don't know who she is."

"That's not a common name. More Mexican than Hispanic. You gave him the straight scoop?"

Orlando shrugged.

"Sure. I really don't know who Bernardo dates. Is Bernardo like a suspect or something?"

"I don't know."

"What's this guy investigating, anyway?"

"The mesa homidde. He thinks he has an ID on the victim."

"No shit?"

"It might be a good idea for you to cool it with Bemaido for a while."

"I don't see Bernardo much anyway."

"Keep It that way until things settle down."

"Is that all?"

"Are you still planning to move to Albuquerque when school gets out?"

"Yeah."

"You don't sound so sure about it today."

"I gotta go." Orlando took an awkward step backward and his daypack banged against the door frame.

"Watch it, champ," Gabe said with a grin.

"Don't hurt yourself. Maybe we can talk about it some more tonight."

Orlando nodded and smiled nervously.

"Are you feeling okay?"

"I'm fine."

"Then get out of here. I'll see you later."

"Later."

Outside, Orlando threw the daypack in the backseat of his car and cranked the engine with a shaky hand, praying that there was still a way out of the shithole he was in.

Before leaving Tucson, Sara had tried to reach Kerney by phone without any luck. She left a message on his machine, letting him know she was returning to Santa Fe, packed hurriedly, gave Susie a big hug, and hit the road. The image of Susie's approving smile stayed with her until she reached the city limits.

Sara enjoyed driving late at night. She could wrap herself in a cocoon, let her mind wander, and see where her thoughts took her.

Tonight she kept thinking of Kerney and how she felt about him.

The hours it took to reach Santa Fe felt like minutes as she pulled to a stop in front of Kerney's cottage.

His truck was there but his unmarked state police unit wasn't.

Disappointed, she looked at the dashboard dock and realized he was probably at work.

She let herself in with the key Kerney had given her, expecting Shoe to greet her at the door with his tail wagging and the sneaker firmly in his mouth. The dog was nowhere to found, and all the pet supplies were gone from the kitchen.

Shoe's absence made her worry about both Kerney and the dog. Had Shoe run off or died? Had Kerney decided not to keep Shoe in spite of his genuine affection for the animal?

The answering machine blinked and Sara played back the messages, hoping Kerney had left one for her.

Aside from her message to him and a call from a woman named Ruth Pino there was nothing else on the machine.

She went into the living room, tossed her jacket on the couch, thought about calling Kerney at work, and dropped the idea. She was too tired to think straight. A hot bath and a nap were in order. She picked up her bag and walked into the bedroom.

Without Shoe, the place felt empty.

There wasn't much left to the old settlement on the Gallinas River, just some partial stone and adobe walls, rusted pieces of tin roofing, a few sagging fence posts, and occasional piles of junk, including broken beer bottles and trash left by kids who parried at the site.

The river's floodplain had created a channel no more than three feet deep and fifty feet wide. Spring runoff filled much of the eroded streambed. Cows grazed close to the water near a locked gate on the far side where the dirt road ended.