“We’ll get the investigation back on track tomorrow,” Kerney promised.
Latimer, Trask, and Mielke nodded in agreement and left the command center.
“Let’s call it a night,” Kerney said.
“I’ll sleep here in the command center,” Clayton replied.
“That’s unacceptable. You’re coming home with me.”
“Can we even get to your place?”
“I’ll just bet we can.”
Driving home with three feet of fresh snow on the ground wasn’t the smartest decision Kerney ever made, but he managed to pull it off without getting stuck, although it took almost two hours to travel the fifteen or so miles from Canoncito to his ranch.
Sara had all the outside lights on, and most of the inside lights were burning brightly as well, so during the slow ascent up the ranch road from the canyon, the house was an inviting beacon in the night.
Kerney parked, breathed a sigh of relief, and looked over at Clayton, who’d fallen asleep ten minutes into the drive, with his head resting against his wadded-up coat. He hadn’t moved a muscle since. Kerney shook Clayton hard to wake him.
Slowly Clayton opened his eyes. “That was speedy,” he said, talking through a yawn.
“Not really. You want something to eat? There’s some leftover green chili stew in the refrigerator.”
“No, thanks. I think I’ll take a shower, call Grace, and go to bed.”
“Okay.” Kerney killed the engine.
Clayton didn’t move.
“What is it?” Kerney asked.
“I’m flat out of ideas on how to catch this killer.”
“We haven’t exhausted all possible leads yet. Denise’s letters could give us something, and maybe the well house will yield some evidence. Sergeant Pino will be out there first thing in the morning.”
“Tell her to be very careful working in that snow,” Clayton said. “Moisture can easily destroy latent fingerprints and make it almost impossible to find any trace evidence.”
“Sergeant Pino is up to the task, Clayton.”
Clayton smiled and put his hand on the door handle. “Yeah, you’re right.”
Inside, Clayton made his excuses to Sara and went immediately to the guest quarters. In the kitchen, Kerney joined Sara for a cup of tea. A partially destroyed gut from a drug dealer’s bullet had pretty much done away with Kerney’s coffee-drinking days.
Sara reached out and touched Kerney’s cheek. “I was starting to get worried about you.”
“It was slow going, but we made it. Clayton needs sleep. I ordered him off duty but that didn’t seem to work. So I decided that I didn’t want him staying anywhere else but here tonight.”
Sara’s eyes danced. “That sounds remarkably like what a concerned parent would do.”
“That’s a good thing, right?”
“A very good thing. Jack Burke called to say he would be out at first light plowing his roads with his grader. He said if you’re not in a fired-up hurry to get to work early, he’d have ours cleared by eight o’clock.”
Jack was Kerney’s closest neighbor, friend, and the man who’d sold him two sections of ranchland. He owned an old Highway Department surplus road grader that he used to keep his ranch roads in good condition. “Bless him.” He took Sara’s hand. “You seem in a good mood.”
“I’m loving this storm. It reminds me of Montana winters on the ranch when we would be snowbound for a week. There were days when nothing moved, when even my father was forced to stay inside until the sky cleared and the winds died down. Those days were magic for me and my brother. The land an unbroken white blanket. The mountains frosted cones. The ranch house cozy and warm. Me in the kitchen with my mother learning how to make biscuits from scratch.”
“Most people nowadays will never have those kind of memories.”
Sara squeezed Kerney’s hand. “Well, we do.”
Kerney raised his wife’s hand to his lips. The Sara he loved was back, at least for a while. There would be rough spots to come, but it was heartening to see her eyes dance and hear that lovely country lilt creep into her voice. “Let’s keep making those memories,” he said.
Chapter Eleven
Overnight the tail end of the blizzard backed into northern New Mexico and dumped an additional six inches of snow on Santa Fe County. At dawn Kerney broke his way through the frozen crust of deep snow to the barn and spent the better part of an hour cleaning out stalls and feeding the horses and Patrick’s pony.
Kerney had kept the stock inside the barn for protection during the storm, and they were restless and in need of exercise. One by one he turned them loose in the corrals, and they pawed, kicked, pranced, stuck their muzzles into the snow, and high-stepped through the drifts near the fence line. Patrick’s pony, Pablito, bucked his way around the perimeter fence, whinnying as he went.
Kerney watched their spirited antics for a few minutes before deciding to leave them outside until after breakfast. As he trudged back to the house, the depth of the snow made him doubt that Jack Burke would have the ranch road plowed by eight o’clock as he had promised. In fact, Kerney doubted that much of anything would be moving in northern New Mexico for at least another day.
He shucked off his coat and boots in the mudroom, sat at the kitchen table, downed a big glass of orange juice, and listened for sounds of movement from Sara, Patrick, or Clayton. All was quiet. He called the regional dispatch center and asked for a report on road conditions.
“It’s a big mess, Chief,” the dispatcher said. “The Interstate is shut down, none of the major city arterials have been plowed or sanded, there are six-foot snowdrifts on some of the county roads, and we’ve got people calling 911 to report that they are stuck in their driveways and would I please send someone to help. There are motorists in ditches, none of the tow truck operators are moving, officers can’t make it to work, and those who have are attempting to transport emergency medical personnel to the hospital or rescue stranded motorists along the Interstate.”
“Put me through to the shift commander.”
“Deputy Chief Otero is ten-eighty-one if you want to talk to him.”
Somehow Larry had made it to police headquarters. “Ask him to stand by for my phone call,” Kerney said.
“Ten-four.”
He called and talked to Otero, who told him that the graveyard shift had been held over to pull a double, and only about half of the first shift had reported for duty.
“I’ve told all commanders to respond to emergency calls, only if we can even get to those locations,” Larry added, “and I’ve authorized all nonessential civilian personnel to take a snow day.”
“Very good.”
“Also, the state police report that the governor is going to declare a state of emergency. He’s calling out the National Guard to assist.”
“That will help a lot.”
“Sergeant Pino and Detective Chacon are on their way to the Canoncito crime scene. Pino wants to know if you have contact with Sergeant Istee.”
“Tell her affirmative and to proceed without us. We’ll be at her twenty later in the morning. Speaking of Sergeant Istee, he needs to borrow a vehicle. What do we have on the lot?”
“If he can get here, there’s an unmarked Crown Vic with a rebuilt motor he can use.”
“I’ll let him know,” Kerney said. “Thanks, Larry.”
“I’m here if you need me,” Otero said before disconnecting.
Kerney checked the pantry and refrigerator to see what he could whip up for breakfast. He had no idea how long Clayton would sleep, so he decided he would make blueberry pancakes—one of Patrick’s all-time favorite meals—and keep a batch warming in the oven for Clayton.
He put the teakettle on the stove, got the coffeepot started for Sara, and was halfway through his prep when
