Association in Tucumcari, so the morning chores fell to Kerney.
Last night’s blizzard had fizzled out, leaving behind less than two inches of snow on the ground that would quickly melt under a clear sky and bright sun. Still, any moisture was welcome, and it gave Kerney hope that more might be on the way, although the absence of clouds argued against it.
He was breaking the ice in the water troughs when the sound of a car engine caught his attention. Across the meadow he watched Clayton drive away in his Lincoln County S.O. unit.
Back at the house all was quiet. Sara, who was ranch born and raised, had always fallen asleep easily and was by nature an early riser. But since her discharge from the hospital, her sleeping patterns had been erratic. She would stay awake late into the night and sleep through most of the morning. Or she would fall into a fitful sleep for several hours, tossing and turning, before getting out of bed and dozing on the couch, where Kerney would often find her when he awoke.
Her doctor saw it as a symptom of depression and gave her a prescription that she’d refused to get filled. Sara had firm opinions about not taking drugs unless it was absolutely necessary. But this time Kerney, who understood and appreciated her point of view, truly believed she was wrong not to take the medication.
He went into the library, closed the door, found Paul Hewitt’s cell phone number in his address book, and dialed it. Breathing heavily, Hewitt answered abruptly.
“This is Kevin Kerney. Have I called at a bad time?”
“No, you haven’t,” Hewitt said, pausing for a breath. “I’m riding an exercise bike at my gym and I’m about out of steam. What can I do for you?”
“We’ve got a situation up here I think you need to know about.” He filled Hewitt in on the state of affairs with the Santa Fe S.O., laid out the plan he’d hatched with Clayton, and asked Paul if he would be willing to come up to Santa Fe and flex some muscle at Salgado.
“Sounds like you’re in good enough shape to do it,” he added with a chuckle.
“Oh yeah,” Hewitt grunted. “I’m looking forward to the day I kiss my health club membership good-bye, sit in my rocking chair, and grow a nice potbelly.”
“I’ll believe that when I see it,” Kerney replied.
“What time do you want me up there?”
“If you’d get off the phone, we could stop talking and you could start driving,” Kerney said. “While you’re traveling, I’m going over to Salgado’s house and tell him exactly what we want him to do this morning.”
“What is it we want him to do?” Hewitt asked.
Kerney ran it down.
“Sounds like a plan,” Hewitt replied before he abruptly disconnected.
From the living room Kerney heard Sara and Patrick talking in the kitchen. He found them at the table reading a picture book together. Although
Kerney poured himself a second cup of coffee, pulled a chair next to Sara, and joined his wife and son at the table.
When they had finished reading the story, Patrick closed the book. “The end,” he said. “I bet Pablito, Herman, and Poppy would all be friends if they knew each other.”
“You’re absolutely right,” Sara said.
“Do you think so, Daddy?”
“They would be best friends,” Kerney replied, turning his attention to Sara, who looked a little more rested and less withdrawn. “Did you sleep well?”
“Maybe Herman and Poppy could live on our ranch with my pony, Pablito,” Patrick said hopefully.
“Herman and Poppy are storybook animals,” Sara said.
“But Pablito was just a storybook pony until Daddy and I went and got him,” Patrick replied with great certainty about his scheme to bring the three horses together.
“The day will come when you’ll be able to ride every horse on the ranch whenever you want,” Kerney said in hopes of putting to rest Patrick’s idea of adding Herman and Poppy to the herd.
Patrick thought hard. “
“Yes, it does,” Kerney answered slowly as Sara cocked an eye at him. “Your mother and I will decide when that day has arrived.”
“How about this morning?”
“No, not this morning. And not tomorrow morning, either. You’ve got a lot more to learn about horses and riding first, and you’ve got to get bigger, too.”
“How much bigger, Dad? This big?” Patrick held his hand a few inches above his head.
Kerney raised Patrick’s hand a few more inches. “More like this, Patrick. Don’t worry. You’re growing fast.”
Patrick smiled at the happy thought, and Sara chuckled. “You got yourself out of a tight spot there, Kerney.”
Delighted by Sara’s cheerfulness, Kerney asked, “How did you sleep?”
“Well enough,” she replied. “I see that Clayton has already left. How did the two of you get along last night?”
“Much better than I anticipated. I think there’s actually a chance we can be friends.”
“That’s good news.”
Patrick got down from his chair and went to the glass patio doors that looked out on the meadow and the horse barn. “It snowed last night,” he announced excitedly. “We have to make a snowman.”
Kerney walked to Patrick, picked him up, and carried him back to the kitchen table. “I can’t help you, sport. I have to go to work today.”
“That’s okay,” Patrick said, wiggling to be set free. “I can make it myself. Put me down.”
Kerney lowered Patrick and he ran to get dressed.
“Will you be working all day?” Sara asked.
“Yes.” Kerney sat next to her. “Today and every day, if necessary, until we either catch Denise Riley’s killer or I get put out to pasture at the end of the month. Whichever comes first.”
“That’s a relief,” Sara said.
“Meaning exactly what?”
Sara smiled, and for the first time since her return home there was a sparkle in her eyes. “Meaning that I’ve been wanting to tell you for days to just leave me the hell alone until I feel better. Just knowing you’re not going to be around every minute worrying about me has already lifted my spirits considerably.”
“Have I been that much of a nuisance?”
Sara shrugged. “In a good way.”
“But you want me gone,” Kerney added.
“Not permanently.”
“How reassuring.” He leaned close and kissed her. “Perhaps retiring is a bad idea. I would be constantly underfoot.”
“There’s no backing out of that now, Kerney.” Sara poked him lightly on the bicep. “We’re all going to London together. That’s the deal.”
“Yes, it is.” Kerney stood. “So I’d better get cracking.”
By the time Kerney left, Sara and Patrick were busy building a snowman in the meadow, unconcerned that it would be a melted puddle by noon. He drove the ranch road to the highway with his spirits lifted for the first time in weeks, hopeful that Sara had turned the corner and was on her way to a full recovery.
Clayton arrived at the law enforcement center to discover that none of the S.O. honchos were around. When he asked Salgado’s secretary if the sheriff was ready to meet with him, he was told without further explanation that Salgado had been delayed and she didn’t know when he would arrive. Frustrated by the sheriff’s cavalier attitude, Clayton went to his borrowed office, where he found the desk piled high with reports, and started the arduous task of reading through every document. Two hours later he looked up to see a clear-eyed Don Mielke standing in the
