'What's the story on the woman?' Kerney inquired.
He and Stiles were at their trucks. The overflow from Cattleman's Cafe had spilled across the street to Griffin's Bar, a long building done up with a slat-board facade, a porch with a railing covered by a sloping roof, and a wooden walkway, designed to give it a frontier appearance.
Stiles waited until a logging truck rumbled by before answering.
'Real good-looking for an older babe, isn't she?'
'She doesn't look like an older babe to me.'
'I knew you were going to say that. Her name is Karen Cox. Phil's cousin. She used to be my babysitter.
Left years ago for college up in Albuquerque.
Dropped out. Stayed in the city. Got married, went back to college, and taught school for a while. Then she got herself a law degree, and a divorce, and took back her maiden name. She's our new ADA. Starts tomorrow, as a matter of fact. I thought you'd met her.'
'I did, but not officially,' Kerney answered.
'Wait until you meet old Gene Cox, Phil's daddy.'
'Tell me about him.'
'He's a tough old son of a bitch. Got himself crippled up in a shooting accident when he was a boy. He's been almost completely paralyzed from the waist down ever since. It didn't slow him down much when he was younger. He even got married and sired two sons.
'Until Phil took over the ranch. Gene worked it with a truck and a golf cart that were fixed up with special controls. For a long time he kept riding-he even trained a horse to respond to hand and rein signals. He installed a winch and hoist on the truck so he could cut and haul wood.
Used a walker to pull himself around when he was working outside.'
'He does sound tough.'
'And then some. What's next?' Jim asked.
'I need some rack time,' Kerney replied.
'Meet me at my trailer in six hours. You can go with me to see Jose Padilla.'
'Yes, sir,' Stiles said, giving Kerney an offhand salute.
Kerney got to his trailer, gathered up every bath towel he could find, and soaked them in hot water.
He stripped out of his uniform and wrapped the hot towels, one at a time, around his bad knee. One full and one partial ligament held the leg together. He sat in the living-room chair and let the heat work on the pain. Through the open door of the trailer he could see the forested mountains east of Reserve that squeezed against the open fields and forced the San Francisco River into a confined, fast-running channel at the end of the valley. At the high school, children from a nearby subdivision were playing a softball game on the athletic field.
Under the floor of the trailer the mice were busy.
There were fresh rodent droppings on the carpet by a window. The threat of hantavirus registered in Kerney's mind. It was a pulmonary illness, spread by deer mice, that killed people. He tried to remember the precautions, but he was too damn sluggish to think straight. He would let his landlord deal with the problem.
Kerney put the soggy towels in the kitchen sink, took four aspirin, closed the front door, set the alarm clock, and fell on the bed, asleep almost immediately.
Karen said goodbye to Phil at Cattleman's and walked down the street to the county courthouse, an ugly two-story red brick building with aluminum clad windows. The front office of the sheriffs department, a single-story annex, was manned by a radio dispatcher who sat at a console behind a long counter. Karen asked to see Sheriff Gatewood.
Gatewood came out of a rear suite of offices. A burly man in his late fifties with a slight potbelly, he wore an off-white straw cowboy hat and civilian clothes. His badge of office was clipped to his belt next to the high-rise holster that contained a four inch.357 revolver.
'Miss Cox,' Gatewood said. His voice was raspy and his face looked haggard.
'Why are you being so formal, Omar?' Karen said, shaking Gatewood's hand.
'Well, you aren't just Edgar Cox's little girl anymore, are you?' he said with a smile.
'I sure don't want to get off on the wrong foot with the new assistant district attorney.' He gestured to the open door behind him.
'Come on in. I was just about to call you anyway. Figured you might want a rundown on the Padilla homicide.'
'I do,' Karen answered.
It took half an hour for Gatewood to finish his briefing. He sat behind his oak desk, made by inmates at the state penitentiary, and answered Karen's questions.
'No leads on any suspects?' she inquired. Gatewood's office was a small cubicle with one window that looked out on an empty lot.
'Not a one. Until Dr. Padilla recovers enough to be interviewed, we don't even know if we have a witness.'
'What's his condition?'
Gatewood shrugged and rubbed the corner of his eye with a finger.
'Don't know. The state police aren't releasing any information to us.
That's typical.
They know I don't have anybody on staff who's worth a damn as an investigator. We'll do whatever grunt work they decide to throw at us,' he added unhappily.
'From what you told me, it was Kevin Kerney and Jim Stiles who found Padilla, discovered the murder victim, secured the crime scene, and located the camper trailer.'
'That's true.'
'Happenstance?'
'You could chalk it up to that,' Gatewood responded, 'but I wouldn't.'
'Why not?'
'Until he got shot and had to retire, Kevin Kerney had a reputation as one of the best criminal investigators in the state. He was chief of detectives up in Santa Fe. There was even some talk that he was going to be the next police chief.'
'When did he get shot?'
'Three or four years ago.'
'Tell me about Jim Stiles.'
Gatewood sighed.
'I'd hire Jim in a flash, if I had the money and could pry him away from Game and Fish. He's smart and well trained. Carol Cassidy over at the Luna station has put Kerney on the poaching case full-time and arranged with Game and Fish for Stiles to work with him. Don't know how much good they can do with limited police powers.'
Karen considered the information.
'Can you arrange to have them meet us early tomorrow morning?'
'That shouldn't be a problem. What do you have in mind?'
'If we can get some free talent, why not use it?
Running a murder investigation out of Socorro, a hundred and thirty miles away, isn't going to get the job done, no matter what the state police say. I'll appoint Kerney a special investigator and you deputize Jim Stiles.'
The frame squeaked as Omar Gatewood leaned back in his chair. He had come up through the ranks before getting elected and needed one more term in office to qualify for a full pension. His opponent in the June primary was a former sheriff with a lot of support who wanted his old job back. Gatewood didn't give a damn about the dead Mexican, but if he could show the good people of Catron County that he was using every possible means to solve the case, it might make a big difference come election day.
He looked at Karen Cox with a new appreciation.
'Now that's an idea that warms my heart.'
Edgar Cox found Margaret in the kitchen with Elizabeth and Cody, busily preparing Sunday breakfast.
The Silver City paper was folded neatly on his place mat along with a steaming cup of coffee. A vase of
