'Inadvertently, Mr. Kerney. I didn't know Eric was planning a robbery. He told me he wanted to ask his father for a few family mementos and some of his personal belongings from his childhood, so I told him what Vernon kept in the house. I never expected him to show up waving a gun around.'
'Weren't you angry with Vernon?'
'Whatever for?'
'His demands to have you act out his sexual fantasies about prepubescent girls?'
'His fixation became tiresome, that's all.'
'More than tiresome, I'd say. You sought out Joel Cushman to find ways to deal with it. Did Vernon ask you to procure girls for him?'
'You don't know what you're talking about.'
'Did he?'
'Never.'
Kerney studied her. She was skittery, eager to get away. He wasn't sure if Murray had procured young girls for Langsford. But it wasn't outside the range of possibility. 'Think about all the girls Vernon molested,' he said. 'Don't they deserve to know Langsford has been unmasked? Wouldn't it help them get beyond the trauma?'
'I have to go.'
'I can't allow that.' He reached out and took Murray by the arm. 'I'm placing you under arrest.'
She looked at his hand, surprised that he'd touched her. 'You're arresting me? What for?'
'Armed robbery,' Kerney said, feeling worn down by all the lies and perversion.
'You can't do that,' she said, as though the force of her words could stop him.
'Watch me.'
He cuffed her, did a quick pat-down search, put her in his unit, and got her purse from the front seat of her vehicle. It contained her passport, an airplane ticket to Amsterdam, and a sterling silver antique cigarette case filled with marijuana.
He drove away with Murray sitting woodenly in the backseat. Only the sound of her rapid breathing signaled any hint of panic. In the rearview mirror her face seemed carved in stone.
He keyed the microphone, reached Lee Sedillo, asked him to rendezvous at the jail, and made the remainder of the trip in silence. Lee was waiting when he arrived.
'Book her on armed robbery,' he said, when Murray was out of earshot.
'It's a stretch and she'll walk if we don't get something better He filled out the charge sheet and gave it to Lee. 'Search her car. See if you can find more grass we can use to bump a possession charge up to drug dealing. Another ounce will do it. Buy me as much time as you can.'
'What does this get us, Chief?' Lee asked.
'I'm not sure yet.'
He watched through the thick, shatterproof glass of the booking room as Lee entered the reception area and tried to steer Murray toward a wall phone so she could call an attorney.
She dug in her heels and looked at Kerney. 'You motherfucker,' she mouthed at him through the glass.
After reviewing the field report filed by the agent who'd checked Linda Langsford's alibi, Kerney called for a department plane, met it at the Ruidoso airport, and flew to Alamosa, Colorado. Not enough good questions had been asked during the agent's phone interviews, and Kerney wanted to fill in the blanks.
He drove seventy miles in a rental car to Creede, where Linda Langsford had started her fall vacation. He followed the grassland valleys along the Rio Grande into the high country, marveling at the remarkable change in the landscape that was so evident every time he crossed over into Colorado. The mountains were higher, the rangeland richer, the forests greener, and seemingly inexhaustible water rushed over rocky stream beds and through fast-moving channels where tall grasses grew thick along the banks.
Since Kerney's last visit many years ago, Creede had been gussied up and turned into a vacation spot. The town stood at the mouth of a narrow canyon that cut into the mountains. Two high peaks dominated the skyline and pressed against the village. At the south end of the village, the terrain fell away to a lush grassland valley.
The main street boasted Victorian buildings on an arrow paved road that petered down to a dirt track at a fire station housed in a converted mine shaft. Gift shops, restaurants, art galleries, and two small hotels, most of them closed for the season, fronted the main street. An old music hall had been renovated for use as a summer repertory theater, and the businesses that were still open catered primarily to local residences. Only a few cars were parked along the three-block strip that defined the town center, and the sidewalks were empty.
A smattering of hillside homes and vacation retreats overlooked the town, and a gushing watercourse roared out of the mountains behind the main drag where neatly tended former miner cabins and older homes on tiny lots fronted an arrow dirt lane.
Kerney found the bed and breakfast where Linda Langsford had stayed. Posted to the front door was a notice that it was closed for the season. A telephone number was listed if people were interested in booking advance reservations for next year.
At a nearby bar and restaurant done up in an old Western saloon motif with sawdust on the floor, two customers and a bartender were watching a sports channel on a wall-mounted television. He asked and got directions to the B amp; B operator's residence.
The middle-aged woman who opened the door of the hillside house looked at Kerney and shook her head. 'I'm sorry, our bed and breakfast is closed,' she said. 'So are the hotels. You'll have to drive to South Fork if you want a room. I don't know why Eddie at the bar keeps sending people up here.'
Kerney introduced himself, displayed his shield, and held up a photograph of Linda Langsford. 'Do you know this person?'
'Of course. Linda Langsford. She stays with us for several days every fall.'
'The notice on the door says that you close on the fifteenth of September. Ms. Langsford supposedly stayed at your bed and breakfast in early October.'
The woman nodded. 'We shut down the breakfast operation then, but we'll rent rooms into October, especially to returning guests. We get some overnighters who check in at the gift shop next door, but most who come when the season has ended make reservations through the mail or by phone.'
'How do they get a room key?'
'I leave the place open with a key in each room.'
'What day and time did Ms. Langsford check in?' Kerney asked. 'I think we mailed her a key at her request. Let me double-check.' She left and returned holding an open ledger. 'Yes, she got a key and a reservation confirmation by mail.' She read off the dates of Linda's stay.
'Did you see her on the day of her arrival?' he asked.
'I didn't see her at all, but her luggage was in her room.'
'On the day she was due to arrive?'
'Yes. I stopped by to say hello. Her bags were there and she had started to unpack. I assumed she'd either gone out for a short walk to stretch her legs, or she was getting something to eat.'
'What time was that?'
'Around two in the afternoon.'
'Did you see her the next day?'
'No, I went to Alamosa for the day and didn't get back until long after check-out time.'
'Did you give my agent this information when he called?'
'No, all he asked about was the dates Linda was registered as a guest.'
'Was her room used? The bed? The bathroom?'
The woman nodded. 'I cleaned it after she left. She was very sweet about not needing her room cleaned until then. She said there was no reason for us to bother since she was only staying two nights.'
'When did she tell you this?'
'When she called to make her reservation. Why are you investigating her?'
'Did you have any other guests registered at the same time as Ms. Langsford?'
'Two couples. We only have six rooms.'
'Would you give me their names, addresses, and phone numbers?'
