Mexican hat (17 page)

"I suppose you're right." Jim's mouth was dry from the anesthesia. He took a sip of water. "Did you bring my day pack?"

"It's in my truck. Do you need it?"

"No, you do. I picked up an empty beer can on the road to the mine. It's in a plastic bag along with a pull tab. See if you can get any prints off them."

"That's a long shot."

"I know it. One more thing—when you pop open a cold one, do you pull off the tab before you take a drink?"

Kerney looked at him quizzically. "No. What's your point?"

Jim smiled. "I do. Sometimes my mustache gets caught on the tab. It hurts like hell when it happens. The beer can I found didn't have a tab."

"So I should look for a guy with a mustache who drinks beer?" Kerney ventured.

"Unless you know a woman with a really hairy upper lip," Stiles countered.

"You've narrowed the field down to one gender. Good thinking," Kerney replied in mock seriousness.

"It's a clue," Jim shot back. "I can't be expected to do everything for you."

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"You can do something for me." Kerney dropped Jose Padilla's papers on the bed. He had read through the documents before falling asleep in the waiting room. "Use your contacts and find somebody to research the history of the Padilla ranch. I want to know everything about the American Valley Company. Incorporators. Stockholders. How it was organized. What happened to that part of it Don Luis Padilla owned. And I need a search of newspaper archives on the Padillas, especially anything having to do with the death of Jose's father."

"I know just the person to recruit," Stiles said with a grin.

"As long as he's trustworthy and can keep a tight lip," Kerney cautioned.

''She's absolutely trustworthy," Jim replied, with a smile.

"Good enough."

"Sorry I fucked up today. Thanks again for bailing me out."

"Learn from it," Kerney replied. "You don't have a job that allows for poor judgment."

Jim took the criticism like a slap in the face, and Kerney wished he could erase his words. He patted Jim's hand. "Forget I said that. I'm dead on my feet and you're all shot up. You don't need me ragging on you. I'm just glad you didn't get yourself killed."

Jim's smile came back. "Well, that's some consolation."

He left Stiles and stopped by the ICU. The state police had pulled security off the door. He rang the buzzer. The duty nurse, a man with an amiable expression, opened up. Kerney asked to see Jose Padilla.

The nurse sadly shook his head. "He died two hours ago."

"Thanks." Kerney turned on his heel and left, stewing over the information. It was the perfect end to a shitty day, he thought. He

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had been counting on the old man for some answers. He swallowed hard against the memory of his ill-timed scolding of Jim Stiles. It had been poor form and bad manners, coming as it had on the heels of Jim's expression of gratitude.

He drove to a motel, got a room, soaked his knee with a hot compress, and collapsed in a stupor on the bed.

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I

It was early morning when Kerney turned the corner of the hospital corridor on his way to see Jim before leaving Silver City. He almost ran over Karen Cox, She wore black linen trousers and a vanilla-colored jacket over a silk shirt. It made her seem even more willowy.

"How's Jim doing?" he asked, glancing down the hallway to the hospital room where Stiles temporarily resided.

"He seems okay, thankfully. I expect a full briefing from you." "Whenever you say."

"Not now. I'm running late. I understand you had a talk with my father," she said. "What was that about?" "Didn't he tell you?"

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"I'd like to hear your version."

"According to your father, he came to the hospital on Sunday to find out if Jose Padilla was someone he once knew."

Karen blinked. Kerney waited for more of a reaction.

"And?" she demanded.

"He's not sure," Kerney replied. "But if it turns out that Padilla is an old acquaintance, your father may be a source of information."

Faced with confirmation that her father had lied to her about his meeting with Kerney, Karen struggled to keep her composure. "What did you learn about Jose Padilla?" she asked.

Kerney read the distress in Karen's eyes. "He was born here. He was attending medical school in Mexico City when his father died. He came back because he believed his father, Don Luis, was murdered sixty years ago."

Karen's tone became guarded. "I thought the working hypothesis was that Hector Padilla was shot to protect the poacher's iden-tity.

"That's one motive," Kerney said. "Another is that the killer simply panicked when Hector came on the scene. A third motive is that the killing might be tied to Jose and Hector Padilla's arrival in Catron County to look into the death of Don Luis."

"When can I talk to Jose Padilla?"

"You can't. He died last night. What I've learned was supplied by his daughter, who came up from Mexico City."

"I want to talk to her."

Kerney told Karen where Cornelia Marquez was staying.

She nodded, broke eye contact, looked at her wristwatch, and glanced at him impatiently. "Anything else?"

"What can you tell me?" Kerney leaned forward to test Karen's reaction. She inched back from him. Something had her uptight.

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"I have no new information."

"Do you think your father is holding something back?"

"Why would he do that?"

"I don't know." He held out the special investigator commission card. "Here. Take it. I'm afraid you can't borrow my services any longer."

Karen looked from the card to Kemey's face, her expression vexed. "What's this all about?"

Kerney shrugged. "Politics. I got fired. Read the morning paper."

"What will you do?"

"I'll think of something," he said, placing the card in Karen's hand.

She reached out and touched Kerney on the arm. "I'm sorry."

"Me too. I was looking forward to working with you."

She reacted with a flush of agreement in her voice. "I still need you to fill me in on what happened."

"I will." He left her standing in the hallway and paid a quick visit to Jim.

"You just missed Karen," Jim said. He was propped up in bed with two pillows stuffed behind his head.

Kerney nodded. "How are you doing?"

"The food sucks and I want to go home."

Full vision was back in Jim's right eye, but the doctor wanted to keep him under observation for another day. His arm was sore as hell. They talked a bit about Jose Padilla's death, and Jim promised he'd redouble his research efforts now that the only potential eyewitness was gone.

Kerney groaned at the pun and waved goodbye. Jim belly-laughed as Kerney left the room.

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As Kemey crossed the lobby he saw Karen in the gift shop buying the morning paper. For someone who was running late, he wondered why she was still at the hospital. He dismissed the thought as he walked outside. Carol Cassidy's decision to give him two extra weeks to solve the case was a nice gesture, but Kerney had already decided before the offer was made to nail the perpetrator, no matter how long it took. He hated leaving a job unfinished, and Jim Stiles deserved to have the asshole who shot him caught.

KAREN BOUGHT THE PAPER and looked at the wall clock in the gift shop. Her parents were due to arrive soon for Mom's appointment with the doctor, and Karen had made arrangements to go to work late so she could be with them when they received the results of the biopsy. Mom had made sure Daddy knew that Karen had been told about the cancer. Both had welcomed her demand to be included in on the meeting with the doctor.

She was angry at her father—much more so than before. He had lied to her twice. She wanted to believe that his lies were inconsequential, motivated by his desire to protect her from his personal conflict with Eugene. But now it seemed more damaging. Raising the issue with him today was out of the question. She wondered if bringing it up with him at all was the right way to go. Maybe she needed to do some digging on her own before broaching the subject again.

She folded the newspaper under her arm and walked to the hospital cafeteria. It had just opened for business, and no one was in the serving line. She poured a cup of coffee, paid for it at the cashier's station, and carried it to an empty table in the corner of the dining room, away from the only other occupants, a surgical team dressed

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in green scrubs and plastic booties, sitting in an area reserved for hospital staff.

She took a sip, and opened the paper to the front page. The headline read:

FIRED RANGER RESCUES WOUNDED GAME AND FISH OFFICER

Kevin Kemey, a ranger fired yesterday from his job with the Forest Service, rescued Game and Fish Officer James Stiles, who had been shot by an unknown assailant while investigating the murder of Hector Padilla, a Mexican national. According to the Catron County sheriff, Omar Gatewood, Kemey found Stiles, administered first aid and carried him out of a remote canyon in the Mangas Mountains north of Reserve to a waiting helicopter. Stiles, who was wounded in the arm, face and left eye, was airlifted to the Gila Regional Medical Center, where he is listed in satisfactory condition.

According to Dr. Harrison Walker, attending physician, Officer Stiles will make a complete recovery from his wounds. Walker credits Kemey for responding in a "timely and appropriate manner," and for "possibly saving Officer Stiles' life."

Kemey, who was released from his position with the Forest Service because of his appointment as a special investigator with the district attorney's office, served as the chief of detectives for the Santa Fe Police Department until a gun battle left him seriously wounded and forced him into retirement.

Kemey was fired from the Forest Service after having been enlisted by Assistant District Attorney Karen Cox to assist in the inquiry into the murder of Hector Padilla. Acting Regional Forester Samuel Aldrich released a press statement from his Albuquerque office saying "the investigation of a murder is not an appropriate function for Forest Service personnel. We regret having to terminate Mr. Kemey's temporary em-

Mexican Hal

ployment sooner than planned, but are pleased that he's now free to pursue his investigation for the district attorney's office without distraction."

Sheriff Gatewood, who commissioned Stiles to help his department investigate the Padilla murder, has announced that Stiles will receive special commendations for bravery from his office and the state Game and Fish Department. Stiles, Gatewood said, will continue to hold a commission with the sheriff's department until the murder of Padilla is solved. There are no suspects or new developments in the case, but police believe that the murder of Padilla and the wounding of Officer Stiles may be linked.

Last year, Kerney was praised by Dona Ana County Sheriff Andy Baca for solving the case of a murdered soldier at White Sands Missile Range and recovering historical artifacts stolen from the military installation. Kerney was serving as a lieutenant in the department at the time.

Carol Cassidy, supervisor of the Luna District Office, said that Kerney's performance on the job had been "exemplary." Assistant District Attorney Cox, who was recently appointed to her position, has not yet issued a statement. Attempts to reach Kevin Kerney for comment have been unsuccessful.

Coffee forgotten, she quickly scanned the related articles. Kerney deserved a hell of a lot better treatment than he was getting, she thought soberly. He had no choice but to turn in the commission card. The state law was very clear: without a full-time salaried law-enforcement job, Kerney could not legally serve as a special investigator. He was now simply a civilian with no police powers.

EDGAR cox walked between his wife and daughter into the bright midmorning sun, his mind racing. The lump in his wife's breast was

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cancerous, of that the doctor was certain. The fact had stunned Edgar into silence. Margaret and Karen had asked all the questions during the consultation, while Edgar looked on blankly. He had listened to the discussion with a feeling of unreality as the doctor recommended a mastectomy. Margaret had put on her reading glasses, and with handwritten notes taken from her purse, had begun asking questions: good, solid inquiries about alternative treatments and less intrusive procedures. Edgar had been amazed by her rock-solid performance. She was tough as nails. The meeting had ended with Margaret agreeing to the operation as soon as possible.

Margaret stopped and looked up at him. "You've been very quiet."

"I know. Sorry."

"Tell me what you're thinking," Margaret prodded.

"You're one tough cookie," Edgar replied, placing his arm around his wife's waist.

Margaret laughed and leaned against him. "Are you just finding that out?"

"No, I knew it the day I met you."

"How do you feel about the operation?"

"Scared," Edgar answered. "I don't want you to have to go through this."

"I'll be fine."

"Promise?"

Margaret nodded solemnly. "Promise."

"That's good enough for me," Edgar said, hugging Margaret. He looked at Karen. "How about you, Peanut? Think all this is going to work out?"

Karen forced a smile, trying to dispel the worry in her father's eyes. "I think Mom's going to be with us for a very long time."

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He reached for his daughter and pulled her close. He felt her stiffen and looked down at her. Karen's expression was one of frank appraisal as she scanned his face. He had never seen that look from her before.

"God, I hope so," Edgar said.

AMADOR POKED A FINGER Under his T-shirt and scratched his belly button. "I feel bad about what happened to Jimmy. Almost like it was my fault."

"Somebody was waiting for him at the mine," Kemey countered. "Did you tell anyone else about the ATV tracks in the canyon?"