office.
The captain, young and engaging, had a thin nose, a dimpled chin, and sandy hair cut short. His uniform was sharply tailored, with airborne jump wings pinned above two rows of service ribbons.
Like Sara Brannon, he wore a West Point ring. Meehan leaned back in his chair and studied Kerney, his expression somewhat perplexed.
'I'm a little confused here, Lieutenant. Is Specialist Yazzi wanted by the civilian authorities?'
'No. Sammy's parents are worried about their son. They asked Sheriff Baca to make inquiries. He sent me.' Meehan shook his head and smiled.
'I don't see how I can help you. You've talked with my first sergeant. I share his opinion that Sammy was a good soldier. Right now he faces company punishment: loss of rank, confinement to barracks. He can still salvage an honorable discharge if he gets his butt back here soon and doesn't fuck up again.' Meehan smiled.
'Let the Army sort it out, Lieutenant.'
'That's good advice,' Kerney replied. 'Have you been informed that Sammy's roommate died in an auto accident early this morning?' Meehan nodded, a grave look crossing his face.
'Yes, I have. Tragic.'
'Did Jaeger have a drinking problem?' Meehan bent forward, arms resting on the desk, his expression filled with candor.
'Look, Lieutenant, I can bend the rules a bit and talk to you about Specialist Yazzi, but I'm really in no position to talk about PFC Jaeger. I wish I could be more helpful, but you'll have to speak with
Captain Brannon about the matter.' Meehan's telephone rang, and Kerney used the interruption as his cue to leave.
At the main gate he turned in his visitor's badge and headed for Las Cruces, hoping for better luck in the city. So far, he had fragments of information that added up to a big fat zero. *** James Meehan sat in Sara's office, looking at her eyes, which, at the moment, were filled with indignation.
'I don't work for you, Jim,' Sara said in response to his comment that letting a civilian cop conduct an investigation on the base wasn't very wise.
'It was my call to make.'
'All I'm saying is I wish you had told me about it before he showed up in my office. Do you have any background on this Lieutenant Kerney?'
Sara pushed a thin file to the far edge of her desk. Meehan collected it and started reading. Aside from his regular duties as a company commander, Meehan ran a covert intelligence operation that was completely separate from Army intelligence. Meehan and his people-whoever they were, Sara thought sullenly-watched everything and everybody, and reported directly to the Pentagon. Sara was one of a few officers at the missile range who knew what Meehan really did. When necessary, he used her resources. It might consist of detaining a suspect, conducting a search, or arranging for a traffic stop. Most of the time, Sara had no idea why, but she had standing orders from the highest authority to cooperate. With A.W.O.L. cases, however, the cooperation was supposed to be mutual, up to a point.
Meehan laughed when he finished reading Kerney's biography.
'This is ludicrous,' he said, replacing the folder on the desk.
'It serves no purpose to have him on the base. He's just a loose cannon.'
'He may well be,' Sara replied, 'but it was my decision to make.'
'I thought we were cooperating on the A.W.O.L. cases, Sara.'
'Are we? As far as I can tell, it's a pretty one-sided arrangement. My team does all the grunt work while you stonewall me with need-to-know bullshit. Is Yazzi a security risk or isn't he? Do you have anything to suggest he may have compromised national security?'
'That's not fair, Sara. You know the conditions I have to work under. I'll answer those questions if and when I can. If your people could find Yazzi, things would go a lot faster.' Sara wrinkled her nose.
'Right.'
'I'm not criticizing. I realize it's a tough case.' Meehan stood up.
'I do have some good news for you. You can close the Benton file.' Sara arched an eyebrow. Benton was the missing civilian employee.
'Really? Tell me about it.'
'That's all you get,' Meehan responded.
'That stinks.'
'All right, I'll tell you this. We have Benton in custody, but the situation involves a possible security breach at another research installation. It should be cleared up in a week.' Sara gave Meehan a sour look.
'That's better than nothing, I suppose.' She walked to the door and held it open.
'Jim, don't ever come into my office again and try to tell me how to do my job. Understood?'
'Feeling a little testy?' Meehan asked with a chuckle.
'Just setting the ground rules. Captain.' Meehan smirked.
'You really can be a bitch, Sara.'
'You bring it out in me,' she answered sweetly, closing the door behind him. She hoped Meehan's assessment of Kerney was wrong. It would give her great pleasure if Kerney turned up something she could stuff it down Jim Meehan's throat, bit by bit. *** 'You're not walking with your tail between your legs,' Andy observed, as Kerney came into his office.
'I thought for sure Sara would rough you up a bit.'
'She did,' he said, sinking into the chair in front of the desk. 'The lady is an expert butt-chewer.' Andy nodded sympathetically.
'Don't feel bad. She jumped down my throat with both feet.' He shrugged philosophically.
'Trying to finesse the captain wasn't such a good idea. I think I underestimated her. After living with Connie for twenty-two years, I should know better. Did she send you packing?'
'No.'
'Amazing.'
'I need your help, Andy. I have one slim lead that may go nowhere and not much time to run it down.'
'Tell me what you've got.' Kerney filled him in on everything he knew before getting to his request.
The most disquieting fact, Sammy's disappearance in the middle of the desert from a highly secret test site, raised the chances that the boy was dead. Unhappy with the thought, Andy got out of his chair and walked to the window, wondering what pressures Sara Brannon was facing. It was a standing joke in the community that the missile range had more garden-variety spooks, spies, and intelligence operatives than the Pentagon had two-star generals. He turned to Kerney, who was making his pitch.
'I want to find the Toyota Sammy was driving and talk to the man who was with him the night Carla Montoya saw them together.'
'That's a long shot,' Andy noted.
'I know it.'
Andy decided swiftly.
'It's worth a try. I'll give you two deputies for the remainder of the day. Both are fresh out of the academy. That's the best I can do.' He picked up the phone and asked for two officers to report to his office.
Kerney's temporary detail arrived quickly. Both of the boys, one with peach fuzz on his chin and the other with the gangly look of an awkward adolescent, looked much too young to hold commissions. Andy filled the deputies in on their assignment and told Kerney to use a small office near the radio room. Kerney put himself and the team to work immediately, reviewing computerized motor vehicle records on the off chance that Sammy had bought and registered another car, and calling all the dealers in the city to see if anyone remembered Sammy as a customer. It was boring, repetitious work, and after hours on the phone with no success the initial enthusiasm of the deputies had waned. He looked at the wall clock. The lunch hour had come and gone. Maybe his guys were simply running out of fuel.
He ordered pizza to be delivered and got appreciative smiles. When the food arrived, they kept at it, chasing down car salesmen who were at home on days off. Kerney hung up on his last call and rubbed his ear. His team was back to looking wilted.
