his rank as a senior patrol officer.
'You know what my wife is going to say when she sees this mess?'
'Probably something about a career change.'
'You got it,' the officer said as he walked off.
The radio in Kerney's unit squawked and he went to answer it. He had two messages; one from Robert saying he was Satan and he was going away, and a confirming report from Nita Lassiter that Cordova had disappeared.
Kerney gave the dispatcher a description of Robert, ordered a statewide APB, and suggested that the search should be concentrated in the Mountainair area.
'That's not going to be easy,' the dispatcher said.
'We've got blizzard conditions down there, Chief.
Heavy snow and high winds.'
'Understood,' Kerney replied.
'If Cordova is found, have him placed in protective custody on a mental hold.
He's not a criminal.'
'Ten-four.'
As Kerney clicked off, Joe Valdez opened the passenger door and got in the unit. He had his jacket collar turned up and he rubbed his hands together to warm them.
'It's too damn cold. Chief.'
Kerney turned the car heater up a notch.
'Are you finished with the DA?'
Valdez snorted.
'While Bucky was getting himself killed, the DA was busy doing a little dance on my head- He feels his office ethically can't take action against Springer and Cobb, since both have served as special prosecutors in civil cases.'
'That's standard protocol. Who is he farming the case out to?'
'The attorney general's office. I think the decision was made before I even got there.'
'Where are Cobb and Springer?'
'They've walked. I didn't even get a chance to lock them up. They're both threatening to sue for false arrest.'
'Did the DA challenge the probable cause?'
'No, but he and his chief deputy went over everything with a fine-tooth comb. I had to produce all the evidence, including the videotape of Watson's confession.'
'Did you keep copies of everything?'
'Multiple copies. I'm not going to let this case bite me in the ass.'
'Did you get anything out of Cobb and Springer?'
'Not a damn thing,' Valdez answered.
'Know what I think. Chief? It's gonna be years before those two go to trial, if ever. In fact, I don't think there's even a remote chance they'll be indicted. Not with the potential star witness for the prosecution so conveniently dead.'
Valdez put his hand on the door handle.
'Gotta go.
The AG wants to meet with me pronto.'
'Do you want someone to go with you?'
Joe took a minute to consider the offer.
'No thanks, but I'll call for backup if he starts busting my balls. So who killed Bucky Watson, Chief?'
'I don't know who pulled the trigger. But whoever he is, he's damn good at his job.' robbkt trudged through two feet of fresh snow down the side of the highway toward the village of Punta de Agua. Only the vague shapes of the mile marker posts and road signs kept him headed in the right direction. He was off the plains and in the foothills, and wind-driven snow obscured everything. The road was buried by deep drifts and no cars had passed in either direction, not even a snowplow.
Cold to the bone, his feet felt frozen, and his side ached from the cracked rib. Bl Malo kept laughing at him inside his head. Everything felt heavy: his breath, his feet, the top of his head-even his eyes.
He walked on with his head lowered. When he finally stopped and looked up, he was in the middle of the village, across from a church. Robert remembered that the Evil One didn't like churches, but Jesus did. He walked to the church door and found it locked. A side door was also locked. Next to the stoop was a small pile of firewood. Robert picked up a stick, broke a window, and crawled inside.
Out of the wind and protected by thick adobe walls, Robert started to warm up a bit. He groped his way in the darkness to the altar at me front of the church and fumbled around until he found a candle. He lit it with a match and looked around. A woodstove stood against a wall in the middle of the sanctuary. He opened the firebox door and found that a fire had been laid. He put the flame of the candle against the kindling and sat down to watch it burn. The heat felt good against his face and hands.
He began to feel light-headed. Did he leave Nita's house because he did something wrong? Did he hurt her? He hoped not. But what happened?
Paul Gillespie would know, Robert thought as he curled up in front of the stove. Paul was always at Serpent Gate. He would go there in the morning and talk to him.
'has the governor fired you yet?' Kerney asked as he joined Andy in his office.
'There's been nothing but ominous silence,' Andy said.
'Aside from the fact that Bucky Watson was assassinated, what else can you tell me about the shooting?'
'Not much,' Kerney admitted.
'But I'll bet Carlos Ruiz didn't pull the trigger this time.'
'This time?'
'I've got him nailed to the Martinez murder.'
'How so?'
Kerney told him about the Buick and getting an ID on Carlos from Ruben Contreras.
'We have to get to Ruiz somehow,' Andy said.
'I agree. What's happening with the sanctions against De Leon 'His assets are being frozen, his drug distribution network is shut down, and he's about to lose his diplomatic immunity. It may not bring him to his knees, but it will make him buckle a bit.'
Kerney nodded.
'The DA has kicked Springer and Cobb loose and passed the ball to the attorney general.
Joe Valdez is with the AG now. He may need you to backstop him.'
'The fucking politics never end,' Andy said sourly as he watched Kerney head for the door.
'Where arc you going?'
'South.'
'It damn well better not be Mexico again.'
Kerney laughed.
'Mountainair. Robert Cordova is missing.'
'That crazy guy in the Gillespie murder case?'
'That's the guy.'
Andy looked out the window. Freezing rain was pinging against the glass, and the neon lights from the bar down the highway, usually so bright, were just a shapeless blur.
'Be careful driving,' he said. carlos had no doubt that he would be killed as soon as Kerney was dead.
Since meeting Felix and Delfino at the airport, he'd been under close observation and never left alone. Whenever Felix looked at him, Carlos felt like he was a walking dead man.
He still retained his pistol in the shoulder holster, but it gave him no comfort. Any attempt to reach for it would be fruitless; Delfino would cut his throat before he could dear the holster. To survive, Carlos needed some kind of opportunity and a good deal of luck- He drove the two men to the house where Kerney stayed, only to find
