The Wailing Wind

that he was bashful. She said she noticed he had a grand piano in the living room and asked him if he played and he said no, he'd bought that for Linda to play if he could get her to marry him. She said he seemed real shy. Sort of clumsy. Nothing much to say.'

Chee laughed. 'What some people would call 'deficient in social graces.''

'I guess,' Leaphorn said. 'He seemed that way to me when I interviewed him with Lorenzo Perez. But to get on with this, both of Linda's parents said they liked him. Way too old for their daughter, but she seemed to love him dearly. And a little after she turned twenty-one she said she wanted to marry him. And she did. Catholic wedding. Flower girls, ushers, the whole business.'

'Now the bad part starts,' Chee said. 'Am I right?'

Leaphorn shook his head. 'Unless a lot of people were lying to me that didn't start until the day Denton killed the swindler. But I was thinking like you are. When she went missing, I went to talk to people who knew her.'

Leaphorn's first call had been on the woman Linda Verbiscar had lived with in Gallup. Linda and Denton were a match made in heaven, she'd said. Linda didn't date much. Uneasy with men. Sex would wait until she met the right man, and married him, and then it would be forever. But something about Denton, homely as he was, attracted her right away. And awkward and bashful as he was, you saw it was mutual.

'According to her roommate, Miss Verbiscar seemed to like the awkward and bashful types,' Leaphorn said, and chuckled. 'And broken noses. The only other man she seemed real friendly with was a Navajo. Couldn't remember his name, but she remembered the crooked nose. She said Linda never went out with him, but he'd come in the place middle of afternoons when it was quiet. He'd get a doughnut or something and Linda would sit down and talk to him. Nothing going there, but with Denton it got to be real, genuine, romantic love.'

Leaphorn paused with that, looked thoughtful. 'Or, so her roommate said.'

'Okay,' said Chee. 'Maybe I've been too cynical.'

And then Leaphorn had gone to Denton's massive riverside house and talked to his housekeeper and his foreman. It was the same story, with a variation—the variation being that now Denton was falling deeply in love. Obsessively in love, the housekeeper had said, because Mr. Denton was an extremely focused man who tended to be obsessive. His overpowering obsession had been to find that legendary mine. Which was what the housekeeper and the foreman said got him into the trouble with McKay. But the bottom line was, there was no way they would believe the official police theory. Linda would never, never leave Wiley Denton. Something had happened to her. Something bad. The police should stop screwing around and find her.

While Leaphorn talked, Chee finished his hamburger, and his coffee, and another cup. The waiter left his ticket and disappeared. The gusty wind rattled sand against the window where they sat. And finally Leaphorn sighed.

'I talk too damn much. Blame it on being retired, sitting around the house with nobody to listen to me. But I wanted you to see why I think there was more to that killing than we knew.'

'I can see that,' Chee said. 'Any chance they thought Denton might have figured Linda had sold him out? Bumped her off in the famous jealous rage?'

'I asked 'em both. They said she'd left to go downtown to have lunch with some lady friends that morning. Usual huggy-kissy good-bye at the car with Wiley. Then about middle of the afternoon Denton had asked if she had called. He was wondering why she was late. Held up dinner for her. Then McKay showed up. The help told Perez they'd heard McKay and Denton talking in the den, and then the talking got loud, and then they heard the shot.'

Leaphorn paused, looking for comment.

'Does that match what you were told?'

'Just the same,' Leaphorn said. 'They said after the shot, Denton came rushing out and told them to call nine one one. Said McKay had tried to rob him. Pulled a pistol on him so he'd shot McKay and he thought he'd probably killed him.'

'So Linda never came home?'

'Never got to the luncheon with her lady friends, in fact,' Leaphorn said. 'And when they booked Denton into the Gallup jail and he called his lawyer, he told the lawyer he was worried about her. See if he could find her. Let him know.'

'Sounds persuasive,' Chee said.

'Then after Denton bonded out, he hired a private investigators outfit in Albuquerque to find her. Next, when he went away to do his prison time, he had advertisements placed in papers here and there, asking her to come home.'

This surprised Chee. This wasn't the sort of information the Legendary Lieutenant could have obtained casually on the cop grapevine. Interest there would have died with the confession. Leaphorn obviously maintained his interest. He'd made this something personal.

'Placed advertisements from the federal prison?'

'Easy enough. Just had his house manager do it.'

'Saying what?'

'In the Arizona Republic it was a little box ad in the personals. Said 'Linda, I love you. Please come home.' About the same in the Gallup Independent, and the Farmington Times, and the Albuquerque Journal, and the Deseret News in Salt Lake. Then he ran some more offering a twenty-thousand-dollar reward for information about her whereabouts.'

'Never a word?'

'I guess not.'

This also surprised Chee. It seemed out of character.

'You talked to him about it?'