as guys rented rooms and then went inside with their dates, none of whom matched Sparkle's description.
Sparkle showed up at midnight with an overweight, middle-aged customer in tow who turned out to be a Mexican laborer. Clayton sent the john on his way and talked to Sparkle in front of her motel room. A junkie, she looked to be way older than her twenty-six years. About five two, she had a skinny teenager body that attracted certain men.
'Joey won fifty-six hundred at blackjack,' Sparkle told Clayton. 'He told me about it the next night when we got together for some fun.'
'When was that?'
'Seven days ago.'
'Did you see him after that?'
'Yeah, two or three times before he left town,' Sparkle said.
'And?'
'He said he wanted to have a big blowout before he got too sick to enjoy himself. He was going down to Mescalero to stay at that Indian resort, gamble, drink, and order room service until the money ran out.'
'When did he leave town?'
'I saw him two days ago. He was waiting for Felix to show up to go with him.'
'Felix?'
'Yeah, Felix Ulibarri.'
'Where can I find Felix?' Clayton asked.
'I don't know where he lives.'
'Do you know if he's ever been arrested?' Clayton asked.
'He did six months on a drunk driving conviction. He got out about a month ago.'
'Thanks.'
'Why are you looking for Joey?' Sparkle asked.
'I'm not,' Clayton answered. 'I'm looking for his killer.'
Chapter 3
It took a while for the night supervisor at the Bernalillo County lockup to copy Felix Ulibarri's arrest records. Clayton left the detention center with a last-known address, a photograph, and some pertinent information about the man. Over the years, aside from his DWI convictions, Ulibarri, age forty-two, had been jailed for petty crimes and misdemeanors ranging from criminal trespass to shoplifting and disorderly conduct-all typical busts associated with garden-variety chronic alcoholics. He also had one fourth-degree felony assault charge stemming from a domestic disturbance involving a former live-in girlfriend.
Not trusting Sparkle to be the most reliable of informants, Clayton drove to Ulibarri's residence, a single-wide mobile home sandwiched between two small houses on a lane just off Second Street about two miles from downtown. He knocked at the front door unsuccessfully and was about to leave when a porch light flicked on at one of the nearby houses. An elderly woman in a housecoat stepped onto the porch.
'Felix isn't home,' she called out in Spanish. 'Go away.'
Clayton stepped quickly to her, showed his shield, and because his Spanish wasn't the best, introduced himself in English. The woman's name was Francis Ulibarri.
'I'm sorry to disturb you so late at night,' he said. 'But I need to speak to Felix. Are you a relative?'
Mrs. Ulibarri's face was heavily wrinkled and glum looking.
'I'm his grandmother,' she said, pulling the housecoat tightly around her body. 'What has he done now?'
'Nothing. I have a few questions to ask him about one of his friends.'
Sternly Ulibarri shook her head. 'I do not allow Felix to bring his friends here. All they do is get borracho and then the police come.'
'Did Felix mention plans to go out of town with a man named Joseph Humphrey?'
'He tells me nothing. He comes, he goes. Sometimes he works for a paving company on jobs out of town.'
'Is he working now?' Clayton asked.
'Maybe, pero I think he's otra vez la burra el trigo. Back to his old tricks, drinking again.'
'Why do you say that?'
'Because he stole money from me like he always does when he wants to get drunk. Fifty dollars.'
'When was that?'
She closed her eyes to think. It made her face look even more world-weary. 'My memory is no bueno. Maybe three, four days ago.'
'Is that when you last saw him?'
'Si.' Ulibarri opened her eyes.
'Does he have a girlfriend?'
'No nice woman would have him.'
Clayton persisted. 'But is there a woman he spends time with or sees regularly?'
Ulibarri shook her head and answered in Spanish. 'He knows only women who are sinful in the eyes of God.'
Clayton translated her words as best he could. 'I am sorry your grandson has brought you so much pain,' he replied. The comment won him a slight, approving nod. 'Do you know the name of the company Felix does work for?'
'JG Paving. He has no phone, so I take their messages.'
'Have they called for Felix in the past week?'
'No, pero sometimes he calls them looking for work when he needs the money.'
'Did anyone else call for Felix in the last week?'
'One man, on the day I last saw him,' Mrs. Ulibarri replied. 'He said for Felix to meet him at a motel on Central Avenue. I don't remember which one.'
'My apologies for having woken you,' Clayton said.
Mrs. Ulibarri forced a cheerless smile. 'You did not wake me. I am old and sleep little. Soon, I will rest forever in the arms of Jesus.'
Clayton left Mrs. Ulibarri and checked with the two nearby Indian casinos to see if Humphrey really had hit it rich at blackjack. The books at the second casino confirmed a fifty-six-hundred-dollar payout. He got a room at a franchise budget motel near the interstate. In the morning, he'd check with JG Paving, and if Felix wasn't working, head back home to Lincoln County. Humphrey's casino winnings were more than enough motive for murder, and Felix Ulibarri was starting to look like a strong suspect.
Satisfied that his time in the city had been well spent, Clayton set the alarm for an early wake up and went to bed.
In early March, after Kerney had arranged for a tour of two sections of land for sale in the Galisteo Basin and a meeting with a local architect he'd known for some years, Sara had flown in for the weekend. By the time she'd boarded a plane back to Fort Leavenworth, they'd signed a land purchase agreement, retained the architect's services to design their house, leased a furnished guest house on Upper Canyon Road to live in until the new house was built, and rented a storage unit so Sara could have the family treasures she'd inherited from her grandmother shipped to Santa Fe from her parents' Montana sheep ranch.
Recently made a rich man by way of an unexpected bequest from a dear old family friend, Kerney had the money to spend. With Sara's encouragement, he was slowly learning to enjoy his newfound financial freedom after living for so many years on a cop's salary.
Behind a high wall, the adobe guest house had two bedrooms, two baths, a two-car garage, an expansive great room that served as a living and dining area, and an adjoining kitchen with high-end appliances. At three- thousand square feet, the house was the largest and most expensive place Kerney had ever lived in. It came with a tidy backyard tended by professional gardeners, and a shady portal that included an expensive natural-gas barbecue grill, a bar sink, a built-in refrigerator, and a hot tub.
