to Shockley's other buddies.'
'I'll handle the Linda Langsford interview after she gets home.'
'Give her another four hours. She just called from Taos a little while ago.'
'You talked to her?'
'Yeah. She was upset, angry, crying, and demanding a lot of answers. I didn't give her much.'
'There's not much to give right now. Keep the troops humping.'
Lee nodded. 'Jesus, I hope we catch a break soon.' He held out Kerney's car keys. 'Can I have my unit back? Yours is parked behind the trailer, all fixed and ready to go.'
With the high school principal at his side, Kerney watched the school marching band go through their paces on the practice field.
As they wheeled and turned, light from the late afternoon sun flashed off the polished brass horns.
'I knew all the Langsford kids,' Colby Trumble said. 'I was a guidance counselor back then.' He turned, looked at Kerney, and pulled at the lapel of his suit jacket as the sun glittered on his bald head. 'Now I get to wear a suit and listen to everybody's gripes and complaints. Sometimes I don't know who is harder to deal with, the parents, the teachers, or the students.'
'Tell me about the Langsford kids,' Kerney said.
'Arthur and Linda were honor society members in the top five percent of their graduating classes. Linda was a cheerleader, and Arthur played two or three varsity sports. Exceptional kids. Well-rounded, smart, never in trouble- every parent's dream.'
'And Eric?'
'Troubled, brilliant, bored, and volatile. He got in lots of fights and usually took a beating. He was an incredibly gifted musician. String instruments. Violin and guitar especially.'
'Any drug problems?'
'I think he was stoned in class most of the time.'
'How did his parents handle it?'
'Mostly, I dealt with his mother. She was always trying to get him straightened out.'
'Was Eric ever dangerous to others?'
'No, but he constantly made threats to his classmates if he perceived a slight. Most of the time it went no further than minor altercations. Shouting matches, usually.'
'Just threats?'
Trumble nodded. 'It was pure bravado. He got his butt whipped when things escalated beyond the pushing and shoving point.'
'How did the judge react to Eric's troubles?'
'By the time Eric reached us, we didn't see much of Judge Langsford. That's not unusual. The youngest child typically gets the least amount of parental attention, and the judge was a busy man.'
'Can you get me a list of their high school friends?'
'Why are you investigating the Langsford kids? I thought it was the judge's murderer you were after.'
'We still don't have a motive for the slaying.'
'Do spree killers need motives?' Trumble asked. 'There's always the grudge factor to consider.'
'Judge Langsford was a well-respected man.'
'The defendants in his court may not have thought so.'
Trumble looked at Kerney sharply. 'Good point. But I can't think of any classmates of the Langsford children the judge sent to jail.'
'We have to look into every possible lead,' Kerney said.
'I suppose you do. Stop by my office during school hours. I'll get out the yearbooks and give you names.'
'That would be very helpful.'
'A lot of those students have scattered, you know.'
'Their names will be helpful, nonetheless.'
Linda Langsford lived outside of Roswell near an old farming area known as East Grand Plains. Set apart from neighboring dwellings, her house was sheltered in a grove of trees and cushioned by an expanse of lawn that ran down to the private road. The house, modern and expensive-looking, had a long screened porch under a gently sloping metal roof that gave an inviting feeling of openness. The core had a barn like high-pitched roof flattened on the top. Where the roof lines joined, a massive chimney protruded, stepped down a bit from the higher elevation, creating a spare sculptured effect.
Three vehicles were parked outside. Kerney knocked on the screen door, called out, and a gangly older man with a blocky chin and a sharp nose came to greet him. He introduced himself as the Reverend Matthew Blakemore.
Kerney showed his shield and asked for Linda Langsford.
'She's indisposed,' Blakemore said solemnly, barring Kerney's entry.
'Can't you come back at a later time?'
Kerney adopted a formal tone. 'There are certain matters Ms. Langsford needs to attend to, not the least of which is the release of her father's body for burial.'
'I see. Come in.'
A breezeway connected the porch to the interior great room of the house, where three pairs of doors led off to more private living areas. The fireplace, designed to warm both the great room and the porch, dominated the room. Drew Randolph, Langsford's law partner, stood in front of the fireplace mantel, hands behind his back.
He interrupted Blakemore's attempt at an introduction. 'I've met Mr. Kerney.'
Blakemore reacted with a step back. 'I'll see if Linda can speak to you.' He turned and left the room.
'How is she?' Kerney asked Randolph.
'Wavering between grief and shock. Exhausted. She drove like a maniac to get home.'
'Is she coherent?'
'Has Eric tried to contact her?'
'No, but she did say there were three hang-up phone calls on her answering machine when she got home.'
Footsteps on the Saltillo tile floor stopped further conversation.
Linda Langsford entered the room with Blakemore behind her. Dressed in jeans and an bulky sweatshirt, she wore round glasses that seemed deliberately intended to hide her attractiveness. Long light-brown hair covered her neck. Her eyes blinked and she raised a hand to shield them from the glare of the brightly lit room. 'Mr. Kerney,' she said. 'Thank you for seeing me.'
'I understand I need to make arrangements to have my father's body released,' she said wearily, dropping her hand.
'Can I do it by telephone?'
'Of course, once you've decided on a funeral home.'
'Where is his body?'
'In Albuquerque, at the office of the medical examiner. I'll leave a phone number with you.'
'Have you caught his killer?'
'Not yet.'
'You must.'
'We hope to. You and I need to talk.'
Linda nodded. 'I want to know everything you're doing. Can it wait until tomorrow?'
'After the funeral might be better, Linda,' Reverend Blakemore interjected.
'No, Chief Kerney will need to see me before then,' Linda said, placing a hand on Blakemore's arm to quiet him. 'Tomorrow, Mr. Kerney?'
'That will be fine. Late morning?'
'I understand you had three hang-up messages on your answering machine.
