Tularosa: A Kevin Kerney Novel (Kevin Kerney Novels) (7 page)

"How can I help you. Lieutenant?" Steiner's formal tone indicated he was not a happy volunteer.

"I understand Specialist Yazzi worked for you."

"That's correct."

"What test facility do you work at?" Kerney added.

"It's an up range site," Steiner replied brusquely.

"Can you tell me about Sammy's work?"

"Not specifically."

"Can you give me a thumbnail sketch without revealing any secrets?"

"In general terms, I can. We work with a new ordnance designed for armored units. We study the products under laboratory and simulated field conditions. I can't say any more than that."

"That's good enough," Kerney said.

"How large is your contingent at the test site?"

"Thirty-two, including civilians. We operate twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. The Gulf War bumped the project to the top of the priority list."

"I was told that Yazzi wanted to change his schedule so he could take some art courses. Did he talk to you about it?"

"He certainly did," Steiner replied emphatically.

"I had no problem with the request if it added to his technical skills. I didn't think art courses qualified. I turned him down."

"Was he disappointed?"

"Maybe a little bit," Steiner responded, "but he knew that the job came first. Is that all. Lieutenant?"

"Did you ever have any reason to informally discipline Sammy?"

"Sammy never gave me any problems."

"When did you notice him absent from duty?"

"He failed to report back to work after his rest period."

"He wasn't missed until then?"

"The facility covers a lot of territory. Think of it like an outpost. We have full dining, sleeping, and recreational accommodations, supply and support buildings, plus a number of secure structures."

"What did Sammy like to do on his downtime?"

Steiner ran his finger over the brim of his fatigue cap and hesitated before answering.

"He liked to draw."

"And that was okay for him to do?" He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand and didn't answer.

"You liked Sammy, didn't you?" Kerney said with an understanding smile.

Steiner relaxed a bit.

"Sure I did. He was damn good at his job and easy to get along with."

"And you couldn't change the schedule for one man," Kerney added sympathetically. "I understand that. I bet Sammy did, too. Police work is the same way. You just can't afford to play favorites."

"That's right," Steiner agreed.

"But somebody like Sammy," Kerney continued, "a good worker, a team player-if it was me, I'd try to keep him happy, keep him productive."

Steiner nodded in agreement.

"That's what being a good supervisor is all about. Is this conversation off the record?"

"Absolutely. I don't work for the Army, Sergeant. I'll make sure it doesn't get back to anybody on the post."

Steiner thought about that for a minute, removed his fatigue hat, and wiped his brow with the back of his hand.

"Okay. Technically, any kind of drawing or photography isn't allowed up range He knew I wasn't going to change my mind about the duty roster, and I knew he wasn't going to draw pictures that jeopardized national security. Sometimes the regulations just don't match the individual circumstance. So when he asked if he could do his artwork on his free time, I said I would allow it, as long as he turned the drawings over to me when he returned."

"Returned from where?"

"I told him he could only sketch away from the compound. He'd hike into the desert and come back in a couple of hours with some drawings. It was all harmless stuff."

"What did you do with pictures?"

"I destroyed them. That was part of the deal." Steiner put his fatigue cap back on his head and looked at his wristwatch.

"I've got a long drive ahead of me. Is that all. Lieutenant?"

"Was Sammy on a hike the day he turned up missing?"

"Yeah. He always checked in with me before he took off. He was real good about it."

"Who went looking for him when he didn't return?"

"Half the MPS on the post, plus myself and all the off-duty people at the facility."

"How long was he gone before you started looking?"

"Almost the full twelve hours." Kerney didn't hold Steiner back from leaving. He ran the information through his mind, his spirits sinking. From what Steiner told him, the probability that Sammy had gone

A.W.O.L., no matter what the Army believed, was highly unlikely. *** Kerney cooled his heels in the company orderly room outside Captain James Meehan's office. Master Sergeant Roy Enloe was at his desk, reading reports and ignoring him. Finally, the phone on Enloe's desk rang. After answering it, Enloe sent Kerney into the captain's office.

The captain, young and engaging, had a thin nose, a dimpled chin, and sandy hair cut short. His uniform was sharply tailored, with airborne jump wings pinned above two rows of service ribbons.

Like Sara Brannon, he wore a West Point ring. Meehan leaned back in his chair and studied Kerney, his expression somewhat perplexed.

"I'm a little confused here, Lieutenant. Is Specialist Yazzi wanted by the civilian authorities?"

"No. Sammy's parents are worried about their son. They asked Sheriff Baca to make inquiries. He sent me." Meehan shook his head and smiled.

"I don't see how I can help you. You've talked with my first sergeant. I share his opinion that Sammy was a good soldier. Right now he faces company punishment: loss of rank, confinement to barracks. He can still salvage an honorable discharge if he gets his butt back here soon and doesn't fuck up again." Meehan smiled.

"Let the Army sort it out, Lieutenant."

"That's good advice," Kerney replied. "Have you been informed that Sammy's roommate died in an auto accident early this morning?" Meehan nodded, a grave look crossing his face.

"Yes, I have. Tragic."

"Did Jaeger have a drinking problem?" Meehan bent forward, arms resting on the desk, his expression filled with candor.

"Look, Lieutenant, I can bend the rules a bit and talk to you about Specialist Yazzi, but I'm really in no position to talk about PFC Jaeger. I wish I could be more helpful, but you'll have to speak with

Captain Brannon about the matter." Meehan's telephone rang, and Kerney used the interruption as his cue to leave.

At the main gate he turned in his visitor's badge and headed for Las Cruces, hoping for better luck in the city. So far, he had fragments of information that added up to a big fat zero. *** James Meehan sat in Sara's office, looking at her eyes, which, at the moment, were filled with indignation.

"I don't work for you, Jim," Sara said in response to his comment that letting a civilian cop conduct an investigation on the base wasn't very wise.

"It was my call to make."

"All I'm saying is I wish you had told me about it before he showed up in my office. Do you have any background on this Lieutenant Kerney?"

Sara pushed a thin file to the far edge of her desk. Meehan collected it and started reading. Aside from his regular duties as a company commander, Meehan ran a covert intelligence operation that was completely separate from Army intelligence. Meehan and his people-whoever they were, Sara thought sullenly-watched everything and everybody, and reported directly to the Pentagon. Sara was one of a few officers at the missile range who knew what Meehan really did. When necessary, he used her resources. It might consist of detaining a suspect, conducting a search, or arranging for a traffic stop. Most of the time, Sara had no idea why, but she had standing orders from the highest authority to cooperate. With A.W.O.L. cases, however, the cooperation was supposed to be mutual, up to a point.

Meehan laughed when he finished reading Kerney's biography.

"This is ludicrous," he said, replacing the folder on the desk.

"It serves no purpose to have him on the base. He's just a loose cannon."

"He may well be," Sara replied, "but it was my decision to make."

"I thought we were cooperating on the A.W.O.L. cases, Sara."

"Are we? As far as I can tell, it's a pretty one-sided arrangement. My team does all the grunt work while you stonewall me with need-to-know bullshit. Is Yazzi a security risk or isn't he? Do you have anything to suggest he may have compromised national security?"

"That's not fair, Sara. You know the conditions I have to work under. I'll answer those questions if and when I can. If your people could find Yazzi, things would go a lot faster." Sara wrinkled her nose.

"Right."

"I'm not criticizing. I realize it's a tough case." Meehan stood up.

"I do have some good news for you. You can close the Benton file." Sara arched an eyebrow. Benton was the missing civilian employee.

"Really? Tell me about it."

"That's all you get," Meehan responded.

"That stinks."

"All right, I'll tell you this. We have Benton in custody, but the situation involves a possible security breach at another research installation. It should be cleared up in a week." Sara gave Meehan a sour look.

"That's better than nothing, I suppose." She walked to the door and held it open.

"Jim, don't ever come into my office again and try to tell me how to do my job. Understood?"

"Feeling a little testy?" Meehan asked with a chuckle.

"Just setting the ground rules. Captain." Meehan smirked.

"You really can be a bitch, Sara."

"You bring it out in me," she answered sweetly, closing the door behind him. She hoped Meehan's assessment of Kerney was wrong. It would give her great pleasure if Kerney turned up something she could stuff it down Jim Meehan's throat, bit by bit. *** "You're not walking with your tail between your legs," Andy observed, as Kerney came into his office.

"I thought for sure Sara would rough you up a bit."

"She did," he said, sinking into the chair in front of the desk. "The lady is an expert butt-chewer." Andy nodded sympathetically.

"Don't feel bad. She jumped down my throat with both feet." He shrugged philosophically.

"Trying to finesse the captain wasn't such a good idea. I think I underestimated her. After living with Connie for twenty-two years, I should know better. Did she send you packing?"

"No."

"Amazing."

"I need your help, Andy. I have one slim lead that may go nowhere and not much time to run it down."

"Tell me what you've got." Kerney filled him in on everything he knew before getting to his request.

The most disquieting fact, Sammy's disappearance in the middle of the desert from a highly secret test site, raised the chances that the boy was dead. Unhappy with the thought, Andy got out of his chair and walked to the window, wondering what pressures Sara Brannon was facing. It was a standing joke in the community that the missile range had more garden-variety spooks, spies, and intelligence operatives than the Pentagon had two-star generals. He turned to Kerney, who was making his pitch.

"I want to find the Toyota Sammy was driving and talk to the man who was with him the night Carla Montoya saw them together."

"That's a long shot," Andy noted.

"I know it."

Andy decided swiftly.

"It's worth a try. I'll give you two deputies for the remainder of the day. Both are fresh out of the academy. That's the best I can do." He picked up the phone and asked for two officers to report to his office.

Kerney's temporary detail arrived quickly. Both of the boys, one with peach fuzz on his chin and the other with the gangly look of an awkward adolescent, looked much too young to hold commissions. Andy filled the deputies in on their assignment and told Kerney to use a small office near the radio room. Kerney put himself and the team to work immediately, reviewing computerized motor vehicle records on the off chance that Sammy had bought and registered another car, and calling all the dealers in the city to see if anyone remembered Sammy as a customer. It was boring, repetitious work, and after hours on the phone with no success the initial enthusiasm of the deputies had waned. He looked at the wall clock. The lunch hour had come and gone. Maybe his guys were simply running out of fuel.

He ordered pizza to be delivered and got appreciative smiles. When the food arrived, they kept at it, chasing down car salesmen who were at home on days off. Kerney hung up on his last call and rubbed his ear. His team was back to looking wilted.

"Let's try insurance agents," Kerney suggested, as he flipped through a phone book and reached for the telephone.

"Hit the ones that cater to military personnel. Call the national offices if you have to. Ask if Sammy inquired about car insurance or got a rate quote." The deputies nodded dully and got back to work. Kerney was in the middle of his list when the gangly deputy put the mouthpiece against his chest.

"I've got something," he said.

Kerney waited impatiently as the deputy asked questions, scribbled some notes, and finally hung up. He almost yanked the piece of paper out of the officer's hand. At the door, he stopped and remembered his manners.

"Thanks. I'll let the sheriff know that you both did good work."

"Any time. Lieutenant," the gangly kid replied, his face breaking into a big smile. The officers watched the door slam shut behind Kerney, looked at each other, and went to find the incoming shift. The troops would definitely want to hear about the new lieutenant with the bad leg, searching for a missing soldier, who seemed to be the sheriffs friend. *** According to the insurance agent, Sammy had asked for a rate quote for a Toyota he planned to buy from D amp;B Auto Sales. Kerney found the used-car dealership along a four-lane highway on the outskirts of the city. The business, situated on a long, narrow lot, consisted of an old residence converted to an office, a detached single-car garage that served as a repair shop, and fifty or so cars parked under pennants strung between light poles. On top of the office a billboard announced that the dealer would finance any car with a low down payment.