Michael McGarrity - Hermit_s Peak

"This is a warrant to search your truck and trailer, Lenny. Let's try again. What's in the trailer?"

Lenny's shoulders sagged.

"Water heaters, washing machines, and some other stuff."

"You got a bill of lading for the cargo?"

"No."

Gabe stepped behind Lenny, pulled his hands to the small of his back, and cuffed him.

"You arresting me?" Lenny asked.

"Yeah. Let's go take a look in the box," Gabe said.

"But first let me tell you about your rights."

Lenny refused to confess to anything other than transporting one load of stolen property, still in original factory crates and boxes, boosted from a regional warehouse distribution center in El Paso.

Gabe took Alarid into the kitchen, closed the door, sat him down at the table, and had him write a voluntary confession. The kitchen was right out of the late 1940s. It had a cast-iron enamel sink positioned under a window, a run of metal kitchen cabinets painted white with a battleship gray linoleum countertop, and a badly worn tile floor. The oval kitchen table had chrome legs and a yellow top, and the matching chairs were padded with cracked vinyl cushions. On one wall hung a framed photograph of John Fitzgerald Kennedy.

While Art Garda and Abe Melendez inventoried the stolen merchandise, Russell Thorpe stood watch over Gloria, who was in the living room feeding Perfecta her meal. Gabe had let the senior citizen van driver deliver it on his way back to the village.

Through the closed door, Gabe could hear me elderly woman complaining that she wanted lamb and peas, not fish.

Gabe watched Lenny sign his name at the bottom of the paper.

"Date it," he said.

Lenny scribbled the date and held out the confession.

Gabe read it and shook his head.

"This isn't going to work, Lenny."

"Why not? I confessed, didn't I?"

"I forgot to explain a few things to you."

"Like what?"

"I'm going to have to book you on a murder charge."

Lenny's armpits got sweaty.

"I didn't kill anybody."

"I know that. But we found Rudy's truck and the murder weapon hidden on your property. That makes you an accessory after the fact to murder."

"I didn't know he'd killed Boaz."

"The law is funny about being an accessory. If you helped Rudy in any way, you can be charged with murder.

Probably second degree."

"That's crazy."

"Then there's the conspiracy charge."

"What conspiracy?"

"You paid Rudy for all that wood he poached. Don't tell me you didn't know where he got it."

Lenny rubbed his nose with a thumb.

"He never told me."

"You'll have to convince a jury of that. You're looking at a shitload of felonies." Gabe ticked them off on his fingers.

"Murder, conspiracy, and multiple counts of receiving and transporting stolen property. Each item in the trailer can be a separate charge against you. Have you ever been in prison?"

Lenny shook his head.

"You could get over a hundred years. What about Gloria? Has she done time before?"

"She can't testify against me."

"She might want to, if it means staying out of the slammer. After all, she's got a mother who needs looking after, and a brand-new baby grandson. You know how women get when it conics to families. I'll talk to her."

Lenny held up a hand to stop Gabe.

"What do you want?"

Gabe tore off Lenny's handwritten page from the tablet and slid the pad across the table.

"All of it.

Your Texas contacts, who you deliver to, what Rudy boosted that you trucked out of state, where you took it, and what arrangements you had with Joaquin Santistevan."

"What do I get?"

"Probably a break from the district attorney, if you cooperate."

"What kind of break?"

"Tell you what: I'll ask the DA to drop the murder and conspiracy charges. He might even be willing to cut back on the number of receiving stolen property indictments. After all, you'll be going into court as a first-time offender."

"I'll do time?"

"Maybe, maybe not."

Lenny reached for the pad and pencil..

"Answer one question for me before you start writing," Gabe said.

"How did Joaquin tip off Rudy that I was nosing around? He didn't use the office telephone."

"He used my cell phone."

"You were at the wood lot "I was on the office crapper when you came into the trailer. I just stayed out of sight until you split."

By noontime, Kerney was down to the last person on the list of names Orlando Gonzales had given him. So far, none of Bernardo's friends and former high school classmates had provided any relevant information.

His last potential informant, Melissa Pena, now married and known as Melissa Valencia, worked as a secretary for an independent insurance agent. Kerney arrived at the agency and found the young woman standing behind a reception desk in a small, two-office suite, filing paperwork in a four-drawer metal cabinet.

She had long dark hair that fell below her waist and wore a jumper over a short-sleeve turtleneck top that didn't hide her pregnant belly.

Kerney guessed she was in her last trimester. He identified himself and asked about Bernardo.

"I really can't tell you very much about him," Melissa said as she eased herself into her secretarial chair.

"I was told you were once good friends."

"Not me. He was my best friend's boyfriend. I kinda put up with him because of her, but I never really liked him."

"Who would that be?"

"Patricia Gomez. She went with him for three years, during high school and her first year in college."

"Didn't she have Bernardo's baby?"

"Yeah."

"Why didn't she marry him?"

"They were going to get married."

"What happened?"

"After high school, Patricia enrolled at the university and I started working here. We got an apartment together. She kept dating Bernardo.

It was more than dating, if you know what I mean. Anyway, she soon got pregnant."

"How did Bernardo handle it?"

"He seemed real happy. They both did."

"And then what?"

"Patricia had a lot of problems carrying the baby, especially morning sickness. One day I came home for lunch and found her crying. Bernardo had come over, wanting sex. When she said no, he beat her up."

"Was she badly beaten?"

"Mostly he slapped her and pushed her around. She had some bruises and her face was all red."

"To your knowledge, had this happened before?"

"No. Patricia was like in shock about it."

"What did she do?"

"She broke up with him right away. Patrida isn't stupid.

She wasn't going to put up with an abusing asshole."

"What did Bernardo do?"

"He kept calling and stopping by, trying to apologize.

But Patrida wouldn't see or talk to him."

"Did Patrida report the inddent to the police?"

Melissa shook her head.

"No, but she told her parents.

When school got out she moved back home and lived with them until the baby was born."

"Why did Patrida go to Denver?"

"To get away from Bernardo. He was like stalking her."

"In what way?"

"Mostly just following her when she left the house.

But only when she went out alone. He wrote her a few letters about how she was making a big mistake by breaking up with him, and that he'd get even with her."

"You know this for a fact?"

"Patricia showed me the letters."

"Did she get a restraining order against Bernardo?"

"No. Her parents talked to Bernardo's parents and it all just stopped."

"I understand Bernardo pays child support."

"From what Patricia told me, Bernardo's parents had to force him to do it."

"Has Patrida had any problems with Bernardo since her move to Denver?"

"Not as far as I know."

"Would Patricia tell you if Bernardo was giving her grief?"

"Sure. She's my oldest friend. We talk on the phone a couple times a month, and she comes home to visit at least twice a year. If Bernardo was acting like a jerk, I'm sure I'd know about it."