Dale ate and listened while Kerney repeated the gist of his conversation with Nestor Barela.
"So Barela wouldn't tell you squat," he said between bites.
"That's pretty suspicious. But I don't think that old man cut and hauled that wood away by himself. Just eyeing him from the truck, he looked pretty much worn down to me."
"Maybe it's a family affair." Kerney picked at his meal.
"He has strong backs to help him. They could haul a lot of wood in that four-stall horse trailer that was parked down at the barn, without raising any suspicion."
"I guess I just don't think like a cop." Dale wiped his chin with a paper napkin and dropped it on his empty plate.
"I'm gonna have to bring Barbara and the girls up here for a vacation."
"Any time," Kerney said, as he motioned for the check.
"I'll fix up my cabin for you."
Dale snickered.
"I said vacation, Kerney. That means a nice hotel with clean sheets every day, dinners out, and with three women, shopping. Lots of shopping. Since I can't afford Santa Fe, I'll bring them here."
"Sounds like a plan," Kerney said as he paid the bill and left the tip.
"Are you ready? I've got some work to do."
"More cop stuff?"
"Yeah."
Dale pushed his chair back and stood up.
"What a yarn I have to tell when I get home. And it doesn't need a bit of exaggeration."
"I'm glad you had a good time."
"Did I ever."
In the truck. Dale popped a George Strait tape into the cassette deck and cranked up the volume. Kerney groaned quietly. County and western was his least favorite music.
Shoe crawled out of the backseat, sat on Kerney's lap, and stared at him with serious eyes. Either the dog didn't smell bad anymore, or Kerney was getting used to him.
He was without a doubt the hairiest beast Kerney had ever owned.
Kerney's apartment was a furnished one-bedroom guest cottage in the south capital neighborhood, within a short walk to the Santa Fe plaza.
Although bland and boxy, it had a fireplace, reasonably decent furniture, and a small enclosed patio. Kerney liked the neighborhood with its old houses, narrow streets, and mature trees that gave a small-town feeling to the area. His landlord, Leo Dunn, was a retired cop who had built the cottage at the rear of his property solely for the rental income.
Over the years, most of Leo's tenants were officers going through divorces or just starting out in law enforcement. Leo knew firsthand how poorly cops were paid, so he kept the rent reasonable.
Kerney stopped at Leo's house, an older, pueblo-style single story with a long veranda, to introduce Shoe to his landlord. He got provisional permission to keep the dog as long as it didn't crap on the rug, chew up the furniture, or bother the neighbors.
Before leaving for the office, Kerney got Shoe settled, and left the patio door open to the small backyard so the dog could do his business outside. Since Leo was around most of the time to keep an eye on things, a burglary was highly unlikely. On top of that, Kerney didn't really have much worth stealing.
At the state police headquarters, a building complex that included the Department of Public Safety and the New Mexico Law Enforcement Academy, Kerney found Melody Jordan in the laboratory.
She looked up from the microscope and smiled when Kerney approached.
"Great timing. Chief. I was about to ask dispatch to track you down."
"What have you got?"
"Several facts that may help. The body was dismembered while clothed.
I found minute fibers embedded in the bones-denim and wool. We might be able to match that fabric scrap you found with the maker. And we may get lucky with the wool fibers."
"Do you have any hunches?"
"The victim wore high-end apparel. Chief. Not the kind of do thing bought at discount stores. But we'll have to wait for our fiber expert to confirm it."
Melody swung her stool to face Kerney.
"More good news: We may not need the skull to make an ID. The left humerus shows a severe old break, about a third of the way down. It isn't the kind of injury that would go unattended."
"That is good news. Have the bones told you anything else?"
"Tentatively. Remember, we have to factor in the weathering of the bones, but I'd give the victim's age between twenty and thirty years, based on the microscopic examination of the fibula we found."
"The victim's race?"
"Probably Anglo or Hispanic, based on the size of the pubic bone. Find the skull and I can narrow it down further.
If you do, I'll have a facial reconstruction made."
"What's next?"
"I want to see if I can match up the saw marks to various types of hand or power tools. That will take some time. I'll also do an X-ray examination to see if I can discover any foreign or metallic objects. I still don't have a due how the woman was killed."
"You do good work, Ms. Jordan." Kerney turned away and started for the door.
"Thanks." Melody pushed her hair away from her forehead and stood.
"Was that a mustang you were riding on the mesa?"
Kerney paused at the door and looked back.
"You know your horses."