Michael McGarrity - Hermit_s Peak

"Do you know of any other women Bernardo has bothered?"

Melissa inclined her head and thought about the question for a moment.

"It may be nothing, but talk to Jimmy Wooten."

The name wasn't familiar to Kerney.

"Why should I speak to him?"

"Jimmy's home on leave from the air force. He and my husband were good friends in high school. He told my husband that he ran into Bernardo at a bar recently, and that Bernardo acted like a real creep toward some cocktail -waitress. I don't know anything more than that."

Kerney got an address for Jimmy Wooten and smiled at Melissa.

"I appreciate your time."

"Why are you investigating Bernardo?"

"It's a small matter," Kerney said as he walked to the office door.

Jimmy Wooten, dressed in jeans and an air force sweatshirt, stood outside his parents' ranch-style subdivision house. He ran a hand through his short, light blond hair and gave Kerney a puzzled look.

"I didn't know that hustling a barmaid was against the law," he said in response to Kerney's question about Bernardo.

"Did she file a complaint, or something?"

"No," Kerney replied.

"Then what's the problem?" Jimmy asked.

"There might not be one," Kerney said.

"I understand you told Melissa's husband that Bernardo acted like a creep toward the barmaid. I'd like to hear what happened."

Jimmy shook his head.

"Melissa has never liked Bernardo."

"Is he your friend?"

"Not really. I knew him in high school." Jimmy's eyes narrowed.

"You still haven't told me what's up."

"I'm interested in Bernardo's attitude toward women."

"That's all you're going to tell me?"

Kerney nodded.

"For now. Did Bernardo come on to the waitress?"

"He tried, but she just blew him off. That got him pretty angry."

"In what way?"

"He started calling her names."

"To her face?"

"Nah, behind her back."

"What did he say to you about her?"

"That she was probably nothing but a slut who put out for anybody with a six-pack of beer and a hard dick."

"Did you think that was true?"

"From what I could tell, he was way off base."

"How so?"

"When Bernardo hit on her, she handled it real well.

She showed him her wedding ring and made like a joke out of it-said her husband didn't let her date other men."

"The barmaid didn't play up to Bernardo or lead him on?"

"Not at all."

"How did Bernardo handle her rejection?"

"It pissed him off. He didn't believe she was married.

He wanted to bet me he could get in her pants."

"Did you take him up on the bet?"

"No way. I told him he was full of shit and to leave her alone."

"Did anything else happen between Bernardo and the barmaid?"

"Not while I was there."

"Did you leave the bar with Bernardo?"

Wooten shook his head.

"Nope. Bernardo said he was going to stay until the place closed. I don't do that kind of drinking."

"Do you remember the barmaid's name?"

"Kerri something."

"What bar does she work at?"

"The Rough Rider."

Thanks," Kerney said.

"Enjoy your leave time at home."

"You still haven't told me what this is all about."

Kerney smiled.

"No, I haven't."

Kerney made a quick stop at the Rough Rider Bar and spoke with the owner, who told him that Kerri Crombie had worked all her regular shifts, including last night, and was due back at six o'clock in the evening.

He found out Crombie was married, had a little girl, and lived in a subdivision near a post secondary vocational school just outside of the city limits.

The working-class neighborhood sat on a small bluff overlooking the Gallinas River on a parcel of land that had once been part of a National Guard training encampment. Members of the 200th Coast Artillery Battalion had trained at the camp prior to the start of World War II Many of them died during the infamous Bataan death march after th e Japanese invasion of the Philippines.

The neighborhood consisted of older flat-roof frame and stucco houses on small, rectangular lots. Over the years, some of the homeowners had converted the attached single-car garages into living spaces, added carports, and enclosed the front porches to create sun-rooms. Their front yards were neat and tidy.

Other dwellings were in disrepair. Blistered paint peeled off trim work, porches sagged, and yards were littered with discarded auto parts, motor oil cans, old water heaters, and broken lawn mowers.

Two large evergreen trees towered over the Crombie house. Planting beds bordered the walkway to the house, and a carpet of Bermuda grass stretched from the porch to the sidewalk. On the porch was a child-size plastic play table, with a miniature tea service neatly arranged for two.

Kerney knocked, got no answer, and found a woman in the backyard hanging laundry. A little girl, no more than five years old, stood at her side.

The girl saw Kerney as he walked through the backyard gate and skipped to him. She wore bib overalls, sneakers, and a ribbon in her hair. She clutched a doll in her hand.

"Who are you?" the girl asked. She had bright red hair, just like her mother's.

"I'm Kerney. What's your name?"

"Sherry."

The woman stopped what she was doing and came toward Kerney.

"Is your last name Crombie?" he asked the girl.

"Uh huh."

"Don't talk to strangers, honey," Kerri Crombie said, as she pulled the girl away by the hand.

"Can I help you?"

"I hope so, Mrs. Crombie." Kerney showed his ID and studied the woman. Of medium build and about thirty years old, Kerri Crombie had a narrow head, curly red hair, a pale complexion, and tired eyes.

"Have you had any problems with prowlers?" he asked.

"Prowlers? No. Has somebody reported prowlers?"

"Have you seen any strange vehicles in the neighborhood?"

"No."

"Have you received any hang-up phone calls recently?"

"No."

"Have any cars followed you home from work in the last week or so?"

"No. What's this all about?"

Kerney held out Bernardo Barela's driver's license photograph.

"Do you know this person?"

Kerri Crombie took the photograph and looked at it.

"I know who he is. He drinks at the bar where I work."

"Has he given you any trouble?"

"No more than any other drunk who thinks barmaids are easy targets."

"Do you know him by name?"

"I think it's Bernard. No, it's Bernardo. He comes into the bar a couple of times a week."

"How long has he been drinking at the Rough Rider?"

"Ever since he turned twenty-one."

"Has he shown any unusual interest in you?"

"Mister, I've been working in bars and nightclubs for seven years. To me he's just another horny drunk with a foul mouth and wandering hands."

"You haven't seen him around your house?"

Kerri Crombie pulled her head back and the expression on her face turned serious.

"Do you dunk he might be a stalker?"

"It's possible. I understand that you're married. Is your husband usually here when you get home from work?"

"Always. He works days and I work nights."

Kerri Crombie gave the photograph back to Kerney.

He knelt down and showed it to the little girl.

"Have you seen this man, Sherry?"

Sherry inspected the photograph and nodded.

"Are you sure?"

"Uh huh," Sherry said.

"Take a real close look to make sure it's not just somebody who looks like this man."

Very seriously. Sherry studied the photograph. " I saw him," she finally said.

"When?" Kerney asked.

"When I was on the front porch playing with my dolls."

"Today?" Kerney asked.

"The other day before we went to the movies."

"Did he say anything to you?" Kerney asked.

"Nope. He just walked by the house."