The boat came alongside, and within minutes Brigadier General Sergio Garcia Perez, deputy chief of Mexican intelligence, was on deck.
'Senor De Leon General Perez said with a wide smile.
'I am delighted to see you again.'
'It is good to see you. General,' Enrique replied.
'Join me for a drink.' He motioned for a mess boy, who came, took the general's order, and returned quickly with a wineglass.
'How can I assist you?' Perez asked from his deck chair.
'I understand you have an agent who is expert at arranging accidents that do not raise suspicion. A Cuban expatriate, I believe, fluent in English and trained by the Americans.'
Perez masked his surprise. Few people outside the Mexican intelligence community knew of his Cuban asset.
'That is correct.'
'Would it be possible for me to utilize his services?'
De Leon inquired.
'Anonymously, of course.'
'Perhaps,' Perez said cautiously.
'Who is the object of your concern?'
'An American police officer in New Mexico.'
De Leon held out Kerney's dossier.
Perez paged through the dossier and scanned the photograph.
This was the man who had killed two of his former agents in a shoot-out north of the border. A deep background check would be necessary before Perez would make a commitment; no ordinary policeman could take out two highly skilled operatives so easily.
'If I agree to your proposal, when would you like this accident to occur?' Perez asked.
'Only when you are sure there is no risk to you and there is no chance of failure,' Enrique replied, getting to his feet.
'But come, other than your fee, we have talked about business long enough. I have had a meal prepared I think you will enjoy.'
As kernbt looked on, Andy read through Joe Valdez's report on Bucky Watson's political campaign contributions to the Committee to Reelect the Governor.
'So the committee got dirty money from De Leon through Watson,' Andy said, dropping the last sheet of paper on his desk.
'Over seventy-five thousand dollars.
That's quite a contribution.'
'I'm sure they didn't know the source of the money,' Kerney said.
'But it might upset the voting public if word got out the family values candidate got reelected with the help of a large donation from the Mexican drug lord responsible for the murder of two police officers and a multimillion- dollar theft.'
Andy put the report in order and locked it in his desk, 'I think I'll hold on to this for a while.'
'Good idea.'
'We might just get the funds for expansion the department needs next year.' Andy leaned back in his chair with a satisfied look on his face.
'Wouldn't that be great?' Kerney replied.
'Bur you can stay here as long as you like,' Pletcher said.
'I can't keep bunking with you forever,' Kerney said with a shake of his head. He stuffed the last of the shirts into a canvas carryall and zipped it closed.
'Besides, I'm only moving six blocks away. We'll be neighbors.'
'You're a workaholic. I'll never see you.'
'I may not be working at all.' Kerney went to the closet, took sweaters off' a shelf, and dumped them into a plastic bag.
'Are you leaving the state police?'
'I haven't decided.'
'What kind of place have you rented?' Fletcher asked.
'It's a furnished one-bedroom with a fireplace and patio.'
'Does it have charm?'
'It will do for now,' Kerney replied.
He got his shaving gear from the bathroom and looked around. All of his possessions were packed; it would take no more than two or three trips to his pickup truck to move out. He needed to spend a little money and buy some things. Pots, pans, plates-that sort of stuff.
Maybe even a television.
'I'm going to load up,' he said.
'I'll help you carry your things out.'
Fletcher followed him outside, lugging the large plastic bag. A truck pulled into the driveway and a woman got out. She stuck her hands in the pockets of her leather jacket and walked quickly to Kerney. Close up, Fletcher found her quite attractive.
'Ms. Lassiter,' Kerney said. He took the plastic bag out of Pletcher's hand and put it in the bed of the pickup.
'What can I do for you?'
Nita looked at Fletcher and hesitated.
'It's nothing official.'
'Are you sure you want to talk to me?' Kerney asked.
'Yes, just for a moment. Please.'
'I'll get the carryall,' Hetcher said, stepping off toward the guest quarters.
'What is it?' Kerney asked.
'The DA has offered my lawyer a plea bargain-voluntary manslaughter.
I'd serve a reduced prison sentence.'
'What did Dalquist say?'
'He doesn't want me to take it. I wanted to know what you thought.'
'I'm not a lawyer, Nita.'
'That's why I'm asking.'
'If it were me, I'd go to trial. There's no way I'd agree to be locked up in prison, under any circumstance.'
'Think I can win?'
'You've got too much to lose not to try.'
'Thank you, Kevin.'
'Call me Kerney. Most of my friends do.'
Pletcher returned in time to see the woman lean close to Kerney with her hand on his arm and say something he couldn't hear.
Kerney reached out and squeezed the woman's shoulder. She kissed him on the cheek and hugged him before breaking away and giving him one last, long look. She walked slowly to her vehicle and drove away.
'Why would you let an attractive woman like that walk away?' Fletcher asked.
'She didn't seem to want to leave at all.'
'I know where to find her, and I have an open invitation to visit, if things work out,' Kerney said, taking the carryall from Fletcher.
'Besides, timing is everything.'
'How true.'
Kerney smiled.
'I'll see you later, Fletcher.'
