'Yes. An older couple,' the woman responded.
'They came in this morning.'
'Did you get their names?'
'No, but I remember seeing them on Friday. I usually only volunteer on Sundays, but one of our girls was out sick, so I filled in for her that day. The woman came in with her husband for an outpatient test.'
'What kind of test?'
'A mammogram. She asked me where she needed to go.'
'Did she give you a name?' Kerney asked.
'No. But the admitting office is open. They might be able to help.'
The clerk in the admitting office resisted releasing the names of the mammogram outpatients until Kerney convinced her he wasn't interested in medical information, just names. She checked with the administrator on duty, got approval to give out the information, and wrote the names on a piece of paper.
Kerney took it, read it quickly, and passed it to Jim.
'Who is Margaret A. Cox?' he asked.
'I'll be damned,' Stiles said.
'The only Margaret Cox I know is Karen's mother.'
'Do any other names look familiar?'
'Not a one.'
'Let's pay Mr. Cox and his wife a visit.'
'I thought he might be somebody I knew,' Edgar said. He sat back in his reclining chair, his long legs dangling over the footrest, looking at Kerney with an expressionless gaze. Margaret was across from Edgar on the overstuffed couch, sitting next to Jim Stiles.
K-erney sat in an easy chair at the narrow end of a squat maple coffee table.
The room felt snug and lived-in. There was a television in a floor-to-ceiling bookcase that held a small but nice collection of Indian pots and framed family photographs. The furniture was ranch-style, all in good taste, with a few antique pieces mixed in.
'You thought you knew Jose Padilla,' Kerney repeated back to Edgar Cox.
'I went to grammar school in Mangas with a boy by the same name. It was a one-room schoolhouse with about sixteen students. Jose was one of the older boys at school that I liked. I'd say he would be in his early eighties by now.'
'And you got the information about Padilla from the Sunday paper,'
Kerney added.
On the wall behind Edgar Cox was a glass display box containing military memorabilia. It held four rows of service ribbons, the silver oak leaves of a lieutenant colonel, a Combat Infantry Badge, a World War II unit insignia, and an impressive array of medals, including the Purple Heart.
'That's what I said,' Edgar replied.
'So, you wanted to renew an old acquaintance?' Kerney probed.
'Look, my wife and I took our grandchildren out to Sunday brunch. The medical center was nearby. It was a spur-of-the-moment kind of thing.'
'You were just checking to see if it was the same Jose Padilla you knew as a boy.'
'This is getting old real fast, Mr. Kerney,' Edgar replied.
Margaret Cox, her arms folded, legs crossed at the ankles, looked only at her husband. Everything about her posture was tense and secretive.
Kerney's smile in her direction had no impact.
Kerney pushed on.
'Was there something specific you wanted to say to Mr. Padilla?' 'Am I under suspicion for something because I asked about the welfare of a patient at the hospital?' Edgar retorted.
'Not at all,' Kerney answered.
'It's just that we know very little about Dr. Padilla. The more we can learn about him, the better our chances to find out why his grandson was murdered.'
'I can't help you. I never got to see him. I'm not even sure if he's the Jose Padilla I knew or not.'
Kerney fell silent and watched Edgar Cox. A minute passed without conversation. Cox's hands were gripping the armrests of the recliner when Kerney broke the silence.
'Assuming Senor Padilla is your old friend, can you think of any reason he would come back to Catron County?'
'When you get to be my age, Mr. Kerney, there's a tendency to want to reacquaint yourself with the past. If Jose Padilla is my old school chum, I will enjoy seeing him, and offer him a helping hand, if he needs one.'
'That makes sense,' Kerney agreed, standing up.
'Thanks for taking the time to talk to us. It was very kind of you.'
Edgar Cox rose from his chair and said nothing in reply.
Kerney and Jim said goodbye to a distant and worried Mrs. Cox at the door. Her husband stood as though his feet were glued to the floor.
'What do you think?' Jim asked, as they climbed into the truck.
'He's holding something back,' Kerney replied, 'and his wife knows it.'
Karen heard a vehicle leaving as she left her house to round up Mom and Dad. Finally, everything was clean and organized. Even the books were arranged on the shelves that covered most of the walls in the small living room. Cody and Elizabeth were freshly scrubbed and neatly dressed-an achievement for Cody-and Karen looked forward to serving her parents the meal she had prepared to celebrate her homecoming. She found Edgar alone in the living room, looking wistfully at the family pictures on a bookcase.
'Did you have visitors?' she asked.
Edgar turned his head in Karen's direction and nodded.
'Jim Stiles and a ranger. That Kerney fellow you met. They wanted to ask some questions about the black bear that was shot on the mesa. I wasn't much help. How was your visit with Phil?'
'We started out arguing, as usual.'
'I wish the two of you could get along.'
'That's hard to do when we're on opposite sides of a lifelong feud between two brothers, and neither of us knows what the conflict is about.'
Edgar winced at Karen's criticism.
'I'm sorry it strains your relationship with Phil.'
'It might help both Phil and me, if we knew why you and Uncle Eugene hate each other so.'
'It would do no good to talk about it. Nothing would change.' 'Phil told me you went to see Uncle Eugene yesterday.'
'I sort of figured he would.'
'What was it about. Daddy?'
'It was a business matter,' Edgar replied shortly.
'You'll have to do better than that,' Karen snapped, sticking her chin out.
'It doesn't concern you.'
'If your meeting with Eugene has anything to do with the murder of Hector Padilla, it damn well concerns me.'
'Are you accusing me of wrongdoing?' Edgar could hear the annoyance in his voice.
'No, and I didn't say that. But if there is a connection between Hector Padilla's delivery of a letter to you and his murder, in my official capacity I need to know about it. The case falls under my jurisdiction.'
Edgar waved off his daughter's demand.
'There is no connection.'
'What did the letter say?'
There was a long silence before Edgar answered.
'The letter was for Eugene, requesting payment on a shipment of Mexican cattle.'
'The letter was addressed to you, and Hector Padilla asked for you by name, not Uncle Eugene,' Karen countered.
