income was about to become more than double-almost triple-what he'd ever taken home in paychecks during the course of a year.
Lynch's bushy eyebrows flattened into a straight line as he looked up from the papers. 'I take that to mean yes.'
'Yes,' Kerney replied.
'Now there's the matter of Erma's other bequest to you.' Lynch rose, crossed to the office closet, and returned holding a wrapped package, which he placed in Kerney's hands.
Kerney tore away the protective paper to find an oil painting by Erma of his family's ranch on the Tularosa, as it had been before the army took the land to expand White Sands Missile Range.
He took the image in as memories of his childhood flooded back: setting new corral fence posts behind the house with his father, painting the eaves and the porch trim with his mother, climbing the nearby windmill in the early morning to watch the sun rise over the Sierra Blanca peaks as it cascaded down to Three Rivers.
'It's wonderful,' he said, trying to keep his voice steady.
'Prices for Erma's work have escalated since her death,' Lynch said.
'Erma held this piece out of the retrospective of her work shown at the university the year before her death. I've been authorized to ask if you'd like to place it on permanent loan or give it to the university. They'd love to add it to their collection.'
'Not a chance,' Kerney replied.
'I didn't think so,' Lynch said, holding out an envelope. 'Here are the two accounts you asked me to set up. Each has the maximum tax-free gift amount you are allowed under the IRS code. You can add the same amount to the accounts annually, if you wish.'
'I understand.'
'Good luck, Chief Kerney,' Lynch said. 'I hope you enjoy being a rich man.'
Kerney shook Lynch's outstretched hand. 'I'll try to get used to it.'
'I don't think you'll have any problems.'
From a distance, it was a modest house at the end of a dirt lane, made even more unprepossessing by enormous pine trees that dwarfed the structure and allowed only the diffused, fading evening sunlight to filter in. Up close, the house was more substantial in appearance, rectangular and low to the ground with a bright red tin roof over a post-and-beam porch. New metal-clad wood windows had been recently installed, and the porch deck, made of long planks, had been carefully laid and thoroughly weatherproofed.
In a small clearing away from the house, a fenced vegetable garden held the drooping remains of tomato and squash plants killed by frost. A swing and slide set stood under a pine tree next to a sandbox.
Kerney knocked on the front door and Clayton answered, his expression changing quickly from surprise to impassivity.
'What brings you back to Mescalero?' he asked.
'I wanted to give you this,' Kerney said, holding out the envelope.
Clayton read the certificates of deposit and with a stunned expression on his face shook his head. 'I don't need your money.'
'It's not for you; it's for your children's education. The enclosed letter explains everything. Consider it a scholarship fund.'
'I don't know any cop who has twenty thousand dollars lying around to give away.'
'I can afford it,' Kerney said.
He waved the envelope at Kerney. 'You really want to do this?'
'I do.'
'Why?'
'Because it pleases me. If you decide not to keep it, send it back to the return address on the letterhead. I hope you won't do that.'
Kerney turned to leave.
'Wait.'
'What?' Kerney said, swinging back around. Clayton's expression was uncertain.
'You want to give my children money, just like that?'
'Just like that.'
'I don't know what to say.'
'You don't have to say anything,' Kerney replied, as he stepped off the porch.
Clayton waved the envelope again. 'This is serious money.'
'Relax, there aren't any strings attached to it.'
Clayton inclined his head toward the open door. 'You want to come inside?'
'I can't. I have to meet my wife at the Albuquerque airport.'
'Well, maybe you can come down for dinner sometime, with your wife.'
'I'd like that.'
Clayton nodded. 'Okay. I'll call you.' The envelope flapped in his hand.
'This is unreal.'
A smile crossed Kerney's face as he thought about Erma's fairy-godmother bequest that had made his gift to Clayton's children possible. 'It's part of a legacy from an old friend,' he said, 'and I'm just passing some of it along. I'm sure she would approve.'
Sara asked for food and a drink when she got off the plane, preferably enchiladas with lots of green chile, and a margarita. Kerney took her to an Albuquerque Old Town restaurant where the drinks were generous and the chile was hot. They got there just before the kitchen closed and sat at a window booth in the nearly empty bar, which was decorated with Mexican masks, Day of the Dead folk art figures, and bullfighting posters.
As they waited for dinner, Sara nibbled chips dipped in salsa and worked on her drink while Kerney told her about his visit to Clayton.
'Do you think he'll ever be able to emotionally accept you as his father?' Sara asked.
'It's hard to say. With time, we may be able to become casual friends. I doubt it will go much deeper than that.'
'You did a very nice thing for his children.'
'Compliments of Erma,' Kerney said, raising his wineglass.
Sara touched her glass to his. 'I'm sure she's pleased. 'Now that you're a rich man, what are you going to do with the rest of your money?'
'It's our money,' Kerney said, 'and I'm hoping you'll get the army to send you to law school, so we can actually live together for a while.'
Sara made a face and shook her head. 'Law school at the army's expense isn't going to happen. I should have looked into the opportunity years ago. Selection into the program is limited to captains and lieutenants.'
'Can an exception be made?'
'The eligibility requirements can't be waived,' Sara said.
Disappointment showed on Kerney's face. She reached across the table and stroked his hand. 'We'll figure something else out. Maybe I can get posted back to New Mexico after I finish up at Fort Leavenworth.'
'What are the chances of that happening?'
'I can ask, and politick for it a bit, but I'll have to go where the army wants to send me.'
'Would you mind if Santa Fe remains our home base for a while?' Kerney asked.
'I thought you wanted to get out of Santa Fe.'
'The police chief is leaving at the end of the year and the city manager has offered me the position.'
'Then Santa Fe it is,' Sara said. 'You are going to take the job, aren't you?'
Kerney nodded. 'It's what I've always wanted.'
'So, will we buy or build?'
'Build. On enough land to do something with, like keep a few horses or maybe run a few cows to keep the
