Hermit_s Peak kk-4 Page 26

  Gabe bolstered his weapon and held out his hand.

  "Give me the fucking knife, Kerney."

  He took it, knelt down, and pulled Bernardo's hands away from his groin.

  When the point of the butcher knife pricked Bernardo's balls, he started spilling his guts.

  Arlin FuUerton brought the bulldozer out to the ranch road and started stripping dirt at the spot where Kerney had told him to start digging.

  Four officers, including the lieutenant who had come to the ranch with Kerney earlier in the day, stood nearby. Police cars were lined up on each side of the road, all with headlights and spotlights on.

  Fullerton trenched two feet down until the blade hit a buried granite boulder. That's how Bernardo gouged the dozer's lip, he thought, as he skipped over the obstruction and started scraping away broken shale and sandstone on the other side.

  The twin spotlights on the cab roof lit up the excavation as he pushed the earth into a mound at tile end of the trench. It would have been faster and neater to use a backhoe or a front end loader. But Pullerton knew he could do the job. He'd logged countless hours on the 'dozer and could peel an inch of dirt away with each pass and have it be almost dead level.

  The men on either side of the trench stood like statues as he worked, not talking, just staring and beaming their flashlights into the ever-deepening ditch.

  Pullerton didn't want to mangle the body so it took a while to get three feet down. Even then, nothing showed. He backed up, got out of the cab, and adjusted the 'dozer spotlights to shine directly into the trench.

  Then he climbed down, walked to the back of the machine, got two long-handled shovels off a jerry-rigged rack, and approached Kerney.

  "Two more feet and I'll hit bedrock," he said.

  "Best to dig by hand from here."

  Kerney and the lieutenant climbed into the hole and started digging.

  The three other officers stood at the edge of the pit and watched. When Kerney exposed the body, the lieutenant sank to his knees and started retching, his head turned away from the crushed face.

  One of the officers, a sergeant, dropped into the trench, pulled the lieutenant to his feet, and hauled him out. Kerney slammed his shovel against the side of the pit and joined the men standing around the lieutenant, who quickly broke away from the group and walked into the darkness.

  Kerney followed him while the other men stood fast.

  One by one, their flashlights went dark.

  Wisely, Arlin cut off the 'dozer's spotlights and retreated into the shadows to wait.

  Gabe didn't cry as he walked down the road but his breath sounded ragged. Kerney stayed a few steps behind, keeping his distance. When Gabe stopped, a long time passed before he spoke.

  "I wanted a good life for him. Chief," he said dully, his face turned away.

  "College, a decent job, meet the right girl, start a family. Make me proud. You know what I mean?"

  "I do."

  "I always thought he'd be a great father. Better than me.

  Kids just seemed to take to him. He had a way with kids."

  Kerney didn't respond.

  "Jesus, his mother is going to flip out. I need to call her. What do I say?"

  "Do it later."

  Gabe's back stiffened.

  "He was a fucking rapist, Kerney."

  "Maybe Bernardo made that part up."

  Gabe kept his face averted and shook his head.

  "You know he didn't."

  "There was a lot of good in Orlando," Kerney said.

  "He was my only son. My only child."

  "I know."

  "I raised him better than this."

  "I know."

  "What the fuck did I do wrong?" Gabe asked.

  "You can't take the blame."

  "Then who does. Chief?" Finally, Gabe turned toward Kerney.

  "Tell me that. Who the fuck does?"

  At the trench they found Orlando's body covered by a blanket. Kerney thanked Fullerton, guided Gabe to a unit, and put him inside. Garduno met Kerney at the front of the squad car.

  "I'm taking him home," Kerney said.

  "Is he okay?"

  "How can he be? I want somebody with him all night and all day tomorrow. Maybe longer."

  "Every off-duty officer in the district will volunteer."

  "Have somebody standing by for us at Gabe's house."

  "Consider it done," Garduno said.

  "Gabe doesn't deserve this."

  "Let's keep a close watch on him." Kerney glanced at Gabe. Through the windshield, Gabe stared back at Kerney with empty eyes.

  "A real close watch."

  "We'll stay on top of it, Chief."

  Kerney looked up at the night sky. Venus dazzled like a pendant next to a three-quarter moon. He stared at it dumbly, numbed by all that had happened. He could only wonder what Gabe was going through. It had to be a thousand times worse.

  "I'll take care of this," Garduno said, gesturing toward the body in the trench.

  Kerney nodded, got behind the steering wheel, and drove Gabe away.

  Kerney spent the next day in Las Vegas doing paperwork, dealing with the news media, and meeting with the ADA who had been assigned to prosecute Bernardo. Because Bernardo had lost some front teeth and sustained a broken nose, the lawyer hired by the Barelas was already making accusations of police brutality.

  The ADA had questioned Kerney closely about the incidents leading up to the arrest. Without hesitating, Kerney lied about the facts. He told the ADA that Bernardo had entered Jessica's apartment armed with a deadly weapon and in the scuffle to disarm him, necessary force had been used. He knew full well he would have to perjure himself at trial, otherwise Bernardo's confession could be thrown out of court and the case dismissed.

  Lying wasn't something Kerney enjoyed doing, or had ever done before in a criminal matter. But truth, in this instance, wouldn't serve justice.

  The ADA seemed to buy Kerney's version of the facts, at least for the present. But Kerney needed to due Gabe in on the spin, just in case the ADA decided to call and take a preliminary statement from Gabe over the phone.

  He parked his unit, stood on the sidewalk in front of Gabe's house, and looked around. It was the first time he'd seen the neighborhood in daylight. Behind him the Las Vegas Public Library, donated to the city by Andrew Carnegie, dominated a tree-lined park that covered a dry block. With its center dome, cross wings, and portico entrance, it looked like a miniature Monticello.

  Gabe's house, lovingly cared for, stood directly behind the library. It was a two-and-a-half-story clapboard Victorian with a sloping mansard roof, an arched tower with circular windows, a widow's walk on the top level, and lead glass windows, Art Garcia, dressed in dwies, his eyes ringed with dark circles, came out to meet Kerney as he opened the gate to the walkway.

  Art gave Kerney a tired smile.

  "Chief."

  "How is he?" Kerney asked.

  "Sleeping. The doctor gave him a sedative. Gabe's got an appointment to see a shrink in the morning. I sent all the relatives away about two hours ago."

  "Did his ex-wife come up from Albuquerque?"

  "That was ugly," Art said with a nod.

  "She made it sound like Gabe was responsible for Orlando's murder.

  That nearly flipped him out."

  "Is the ex-wife here now?"

  "No. She checked into a motel with her boyfriend.

  Do you need to see her?"

  Kerney shook his head.

  "Keep her away from Gabe if she acts up again. He doesn't need a guilt trip laid on him. He's carrying enough as it is."

  "I'll let the troops know. You need to speak to Gabe? I can wake him up."

  "Let him sleep. Tell him it's very important not to talk to the ADA until he speak with me."

  "Wll do."

  "Have the funeral services for Orlando been set?"

  "Not yet." Art eyed Kerney warily.

  "Gabe told me he put a big hurt on Bernardo
to get a confession."

  "I didn't see it that way. I told the ADA we used reasonable force to stop the action, and Bernardo's confession was voluntary."

  Art looked relieved.

  "I'll tell him that when he wakes up."

  "Do that, and have him call me."

  Bernardo looked up from his concrete bunk and stared at Kerney through the bars of his cell. His broken nose, which had been set by the jail doctor, was covered with a bandage, and two of his upper front teeth were missing.

  "I'm not talking to you," Bernardo said.

  "My lawyer said not to."

  "You don't have to talk, just listen. You're going to prison on a life sentence without parole, if they don't fry your ass. Either way, I'm going to make the time you have in the slammer very interesting."

  "What's that supposed to mean?"

  "The boys in the joint are going to smack their lips when they hear that you're going to join them. You'll be somebody's girlfriend within a week. Maybe everybody's."

  Bernardo flinched.

  "You can't do that."

  Kerney smiled.

  "Watch me. Take my advice, Bernardo.

  Go with the flow. You're not going to survive in prison any other way."

  "I'm walking out of here. My lawyer said he's going to get my confession suppressed because you and Gonzales beat it out of me."

  "I don't think so. It will be your word against ours.

  But if by chance you ever live to see the light of day outside of a prison cell, let me tell you a secret, Bernardo."

  "What?"

  Kerney gestured with his finger.

  "Come here."

  Cautiously, Bernardo approached the cell bars.

  Kerney dropped his voice to a whisper.

  "I'll hunt you down and kill you."

  Kerney's bluff made Bernardo's face turn white.

  "Have a good day," Kerney said.

  Kerney called Dale Jennings at five-thirty Saturday morning just as Sara came out of the bedroom wearing nothing but panties. She kissed him on the cheek, ruffled his hair, and moved to the kitchen, drawn by the smell of fresh coffee.

  Dale answered on the first ring.

  "Have you had your coffee yet?" Kerney asked, knowing full well Dale had been up for at least an hour.

  "Yep. I don't have a cushy eight-to-five job like you.

  Gotta work for a living."

  "Are you sitting down?"

  "Should I be?"

  "Maybe. Sara and I are getting married."

  Dale whooped.

  "Well, I'll be damned. What a lucky son of a bitch you are."

  "I know it. I want you to be my best man."

  "Tell me when and tell me where."

  "Montana in a week, at the Brannon ranch. Can you, Barbara, and the girls make it?"

  "Wouldn't miss it. Damn, Kerney, I'm happy for you.

  It's about time."

  "I'm pretty happy myself."

  Sara came back from the kitchen, sat next to Kerney on the couch, and sipped her coffee.

  "You got yourself a prize, old friend."

  "My prize is nibbling on my ear as we speak."

  "Barbara hasn't nibbled on my ear in a week."

  "I hear that happens to old married folks."

  "Stop wisecracking and put the bride-to-be on the phone. Maybe I can talk her out of making a big mistake."

  "Who's wisecracking now?" Kerney held the phone out to Sara.

  "He's all yours."

  Sara put the coffee cup down, covered the receiver with her hand, and glanced at Kerney's crotch.

  "You look very sexy in boxer shorts. What's that thing that's poking out?"

  "A surprise."

  "I like surprises." She took her hand off the receiver and sat on Kerney's lap, facing him.

  "Dale, can I call you right back, in about twenty minutes?"

  "Sure thing," Dale said.

  "Talk to you then." Sara dropped the phone on the floor.

  Kerney and Sara arrived at the old stone cabin at the foot of the mesa to find the gate open and a dozen or so vehicles neatly parked in front of a cardboard sign stapled to a wooden stake that read volunte bbs park here.. Another similar sign at the ranch road read shuttle

  VAN AND DELIVERY TRUCKS ONLY.

  Kerney had filled Sara in on the weekend project underway at the Knowkon cactus site, and the demand Ruth Pino had made that he meet with a Nature Conservancy staffer.

  "It seems she has everything well organized," she said.

  "I don't think Professor Pino leaves much to chance.

  I'll bet she's working her volunteers like an infantry squad on bivouac."

  "She's not your favorite person."

  "Maybe you can relate to her."

  "Are we hiking in on our own, or taking the Ruth Pino-guided nature tour?" Sara asked as she reached for her backpack and slipped her arms into the shoulder straps.

  "We'll hike," Kerney said.

  He slung on his backpack and made a beeline up the side of the mesa. At the top, Sara tried to slow Kerney down. She stopped to take in the view, examine wild 5 flowers, and adjust the harness on her pack. Each time, Kerney waited impatiently, looking preoccupied and withdrawn, before striding off again.

  When they reached the windmill and stock tank, Sara tugged on Kerney's shirtsleeve.

  "Want to talk about it?"

  "About what?"

  "Your silence. This forced-march pace we're on. The fact that you haven't said five words in the last hour."

  "Sorry."

  "What's bothering you?"

  "I can't get Gabe Gonzales out of my mind."

  "You're worried about him," Sara said.

  "He's a damn good man, and his life has been ripped apart. He has to live with the fact that his murdered son was a rapist."

  "That can't be easy," Sara said.

  "It's a hundred times worse if you're a cop."

  "Can Gabe cope?"

  "I hope so. I don't know."

  "What about you?" Sara asked.

  "Me?"

  "You don't seem very happy."

  Kerney looked at the high flanks of the mountains that dominated the skyline and the soft green spring grass that rippled across the mesa.

  "I've been trying to enjoy myself," he said, "but it isn't working. I can't hold on to this land, Sara."

  "Sell it."

  Kerney smiled sadly.

  "That's what Dale said. I've got no choice in the matter, anyway."

  "Do it."

  "Erma wanted me to have it."

  "Erma wanted you to be happy. That was her gift to you." Sara stroked Kerney's face.

  "Use it to make her wish come true."

  "Think she would understand?"

  "Of course." Sara pulled Kerney by the collar and kissed him on the lips.

  "What's that forF Kerney asked.

  "Luck. Let's go hear what kind of deal the Nature Conservancy has to offer. Just don't give the place away."

  "I'm not that stupid."

  Sara's voice rippled with laughter.

  "You'd better not be."

  After arriving at the Knowlton cactus site, Kerney and Sara worked through the morning with Ruth Pino and her volunteers, setting fence posts and stringing wire.

  At the noon lunch break, they sat down with Reese Carson and listened to his proposal. The Nature Conservancy wanted to buy all ten sections, not only to protect the rare Knowlton cactus, but to stop any further subdivision of the land.

  The open range on the mesa influenced the Nature Conservancy's decision. As one of the last grassland mesas in the area, the land was prime grazing for deer and elk migrating down from the mountains.

  "It would be a wonderful plant and wildlife habitat, Mr. Kerney,"

  Carson noted.

  "I hope you'll consider selling it to us."

  "At full value?" Kerney asked.

  "No. You sell the property to us for less than the appraisal. But it reduces your state
and federal taxes.

  While it's not an even trade-off, you get the satisfaction of not paying the full tax burden, and insuring that the land remains intact and unspoiled."

  "How much of a per-acre reduction are you looking at?" Kerney asked.

  "We can negotiate that," Carson said.

  "If you agree in principle to the idea, we'll crunch some numbers for you at different per-acre costs. I promise you'll come out of the deal well compensated."

  "Give me a ballpark figure."

  "We've got to do the math first, Mr. Kerney. But you'll still be a very rich man."

  Kerney mulled it over. He'd always hoped to scratch together just enough cash to get a ranch started, never expecting more would ever be possible. Even if he gave up some of the proceeds, the mesa would be protected, and he would still be able to comfortably realize his dream.

  "You can verify our financial analysis with your own CPA before deciding on our offer," Reese added.

  Kerney looked at Sara.

  She nodded her head.

  "Yes?" he asked.

  "I think Erma would like to see the land stay just the way it is," she said.

  Kerney smiled and turned to Carson.

  "Go ahead and crunch the numbers. We'll take a look at your offer."

  "That's great," Reese said.

  "What are you going to call the preserve?" Sara asked.

  "We usually retain the most commonly used place name," Reese said.

  "I think it should be called the Pergurson Mesa Ranch," Sara said.

  "Or the Erma Fergurson Ranch," Kerney offered.

  "Or the Erma Fergurson Mesa Ranch Preserve," Sara countered.

  Reese Carson smiled at Kerney and Sara.

  "If we strike a deal, and the two of you can agree, you can stipulate the name. I'll put it in the contract as a condition of the sale."

  Two weeks after Orlando's funeral, Gabe knew that everything had changed forever. The terrible burning sensation in his stomach never stopped and at night sleep came only after he took a sedative. But the pills didn't keep away the dreams that left him dazed in the morning, wondering if he'd been sleeping or hallucinating.

  One dream recurred over and over. In it, he was standing at the edge of the trench looking down at Orlando's crushed body, watching it decay to an anonymous skeleton, all traces of identity dissolved away.

  Each time he would awake from the dream with throbbing temples and a racing heart.