“Was going away to college a financial issue?” Kerney asked.
Helen, who sat on the front passenger seat next to Kerney, shook her head. “Not at all. Daddy just wanted to keep an eye on her. He’d just sold his plumbing and heating business and had settled my grandfather’s estate. Each of us children received money from the sale of Grandfather’s foothills property, although Denise had to wait until she was twenty-one to receive her share.”
“Why would Denise leave home because of a spat over where she could go to college?” Kerney asked.
“It went deeper than that,” Ruben said from the backseat of Kerney’s cruiser.
Kerney turned to Ruben. “Do you think she was pregnant when she left home?”
“She may have been, but it’s one of those topics that’s never discussed in the family,” Ruben replied.
Helen shook her head. “Because it wasn’t true.”
“Then why is the topic always such a sore spot with you and Denise?” Ruben countered.
“Go on,” Kerney said to Ruben before Helen could reply.
“Denise was super smart, totally bored with Santa Fe, and very unchallenged in high school. You could call the crowd she hung out with a fringe, arty group. They were into theater, film, acting, music, art, and smoking a little pot. Denise had aspirations; she wanted to strike out on her own, see the world, and she didn’t want to be held back. She had big dreams to make it as a singer or actress.”
“You seem to know a great deal about your sister-in-law’s teenage years,” Kerney said.
Ruben smiled. “I was the head of the guidance and counseling department at the high school during the time Denise was enrolled. As Helen’s husband, I couldn’t counsel her directly, but I did stay informed of her progress. She dropped out of the gifted program her sophomore year, although she continued to take advance placement classes in subjects that interested her.”
Kerney was about to direct the conversation to Denise’s relationship with her husband when Detective Matt Chacon stepped onto the deck of the double-wide and motioned to him. Kerney excused himself and went to see what Chacon had discovered.
“Did you find anything interesting on the computers?” he asked. Through the open door Kerney could see deputies and detectives carefully examining the furnishings, carpet, walls, and curtains, looking for trace evidence.
“It’s what I didn’t find that’s interesting, Chief,” Matt replied. “Both computers have had the hard drives completely erased and reformatted using what I think was a bootleg recovery system that can’t be traced back to a manufacturer. Everything on the computers was wiped clean. Whoever did this didn’t want whatever was on the computers to be retrieved.”
“Can’t you restore the hard drive data?”
“It’s not a question of retrieval,” Matt replied. “The drives have been scoured and sterilized of all information. It doesn’t take a computer geek to do it. An hour or two of Internet research can give anyone the information they need to permanently purge files, folders, and data. However, I can tell you that this was done twenty-four hours ago.”
“What about any removable storage devices?”
“Both computers have CD and flash drive capacity, but I haven’t found any compact disks or portable storage devices in the house. I’m assuming whoever erased the hard drives took them. I dusted both machines for fingerprints. They’d been wiped clean.”
“This is not good news,” Kerney said.
“I know it isn’t, Chief,” Matt replied. “But most people pay their monthly IP bills automatically through online checking or a charge to a credit card. Sergeant Pino is looking for banking and credit card statements. If we can determine the IP provider, we can get a court order and access e-mail account information.”
“Do the same with the cell phone and landline accounts.”
“It’s on the list,” Matt said. “I’m going to take both computers back to the office and go through everything again. Sometimes a recovery program will miss, skip, or write over an old file or folder. Maybe I’ll get lucky.”
“Okay.” Kerney gave Matt a pat on the back. Soon after becoming chief, he’d promoted Chacon to detective, and although the young officer didn’t know it, he was about to receive his sergeant stripes and be put in charge of the Property Crimes Unit. “Keep at it,” Kerney said.
“Will do, Chief.”
When Kerney returned to his police unit, Helen quizzed him about his conversation with Chacon. He short- circuited the facts and told her that Matt hadn’t yet found anything of interest on the computers, but would conduct a more comprehensive examination at police headquarters.
By daybreak, Ruben had talked his exhausted wife into going home. Inside the double-wide, Sergeant Ramona Pino, two SFPD detectives, and three sheriff’s investigators were continuing the house search. Kerney joined Chief Deputy Leonard Jessup in the RV that served as the sheriff’s office mobile command center, and asked him to talk about Tim Riley.
Jessup eased his bulk into a chair behind a small bolted-down table and motioned for Kerney to join him. Jessup’s pale blue eyes were weary. The deep creases below his chubby cheeks pulled down the corners of his mouth and gave him a perpetual hangdog expression. In contrast to his dour appearance, Jessup had a high-pitched voice. A true tenor, he was the mainstay of a barbershop quartet that performed locally and at regional competitions.
“Tim was a solid, dependable officer,” Jessup said, “and we were sorry to lose him.”
“No personality conflicts with other officers or problems with the brass?”
“None.”
“Then why did he leave?” Kerney asked.
Jessup shrugged his shoulders. “He didn’t give a reason other than to say he’d accepted a job with the Lincoln County S.O.” He handed Kerney a file folder. “That’s Riley’s personnel file. Look it over for yourself. He received solid performance evaluations, had no disciplinary actions, and received several commendations from his supervisors and one from the board of county commissioners.”
Kerney paged through the paperwork. “What about his personal and family life?”
“That I don’t know anything about,” Jessup replied. “He wasn’t one to socialize much with other officers. I met his wife maybe twice, once at a retirement party and once at some community fund-raising event. I didn’t even know she was Helen Muiz’s kid sister.”
Outside the RV window, detectives and investigators were loading boxes of evidence into the back of the S.O. crime lab van. On the driveway that led from the double-wide to the county road, S.O. patrol vehicles, state police units, and SFPD vehicles were arriving, along with members of a search and rescue team.
Jessup stood up and nodded toward an unmarked sedan that came to a stop near a staging area for searchers that had been set up in front of the stables. “The sheriff has arrived. He wants us to scour this area until we either find Denise Riley’s body or we know that she isn’t here to be found.”
Kerney followed Jessup out of the RV and looked at the mesa that rose above the narrow valley, much of it still in deep shadows. There was a lot of rugged country to cover and places where a body could be hidden so that no matter how exhaustive the search, it might never be found.
At the staging area, Kerney joined Leonard Jessup, Sheriff Luciano Salgado, the state police captain who commanded the district office, and an emergency room doctor who also served as the search and rescue director. Together, they went over the sheriff’s search plan, which consisted of a concentrated sweep of the valley and surrounding area before moving into the higher country. When the searchers had assembled, Salgado divided the personnel into teams and gave out grid assignments. A sober and silent group of three dozen men and women fanned out in all four directions, the quiet broken only by the rough, querulous sound of Mexican jays in the tall pines and the low whine of a commercial jet thirty thousand feet overhead.
Kerney spent a few minutes alone with Luciano Salgado, who had retired as a SFPD patrol sergeant six years ago to accept an appointment as chief deputy for the S.O, and was now serving his first term as the duly elected sheriff. Luciano asked if he could continue to use Kerney’s detectives throughout the day. He wanted Ramona Pino to work with his major crimes unit supervisor on an evidence search of the stable and the P.D. detectives to assist in a follow-up neighborhood canvass of all residents.
Kerney readily agreed and passed on the assignments to Sergeant Pino. Back at his unit he called Sara on his cell phone.
“I didn’t wake you up, did I?” he asked.
