Several blocks away on a side street in a lovely old brick Victorian house, she found a clothing store that had what she wanted: simple, elegant silk tops in earth-tone colors, a wonderful full-length, long-sleeved brown dress with a high neckline that looked very sleek when she put it on, and new designer jeans that made her look equally slinky. After so many months in starched fatigues and tailored military uniforms, the fabric felt satiny and sensual against her skin.
She didn't wince at all when she paid the bill, although the prices were outrageous. It was her treat to herself for two years of doing without in South Korea.
She asked the sales clerk where she might buy some sexy lingerie, and got directions to a nearby store along with a knowing smile.
"You've got that right," Sara said as she picked up her bags and walked away. The woman's laugh followed her out the door.
At the lingerie shop, she took her time and came away with some tasty little items that were comfortable to wear yet decidedly provocative.
She made her beauty salon appointment just in time, and spent a wonderful hour letting Patrick somebody-or-other pamper, condition, and trim her hair.
Back at Kerney's apartment. Shoe met her at the door, sneaker firmly in his mouth, tall wagging, still looking mangy as hell. She gave him a scratch under the chin, and he followed her into the bedroom. She dumped the packages on the bed and checked the alarm dock on the nightstand. Kerney wouldn't be back for hours.
Sara looked at Shoe and decided the dog needed some TLC. She fanned through the Yellow Pages and found a pet grooming business that could take Shoe right away. She got directions to the shop, grabbed the new leash and collar Kerney had bought, and loaded the dog into her Jeep Cherokee.
"Come on. Shoe," she said, as she backed out of the driveway.
"Let's get you cleaned up. That way we can both knock Kerney's socks off."
After taking the tour of the crime scene, Kerney pitched in and gave Sergeant Gonzales a hand. He spent several hours helping Gabe systematically search the cabin, which yielded further information on Wanda Knox and her son. He now had a very good photograph of the woman, plus a small address book Wanda had left behind with the names and addresses of friends and relatives in Southern California.
Back at state police headquarters in Santa Fe, Kerney prepared a brief summary of the known facts pertaining to the Boaz murder case, typed up questions for Wanda Knox, and photocopied the address book.
According to the letters sent to Boaz, Wanda currently lived in Arcadia, California. Kerney checked her address against a map. Arcadia was close to Pasadena, and many of the entries in the address book showed friends and family living either in Arcadia, Pasadena, or surrounding communities.
He called the Arcadia PD, talked to the chief, told him what he needed, and got quick agreement to have a detective follow up as soon as Kerney faxed the information.
"If Ms. Knox can't positively identify a man named Rudy, ask your officer to do an Identi-Kit," Kerney said.
The kit was used to produce a facial likeness of a person based on verbal descriptions furnished by a witness.
"That's no problem," the chief said.
"Anything else?"
"A list of names of anyone else she knew or met in New Mexico would be helpful."
"You've got it. How's the weather out there?"
"High fifties, windy, and blue skies," Kerney answered.
"Jesus, what I'd give to see blue skies again. We've had solid smog for two months."
Kerney faxed the information to Arcadia, cleared some paperwork off his desk, and checked the wall dock.
If he hustled he could get to the real-estate appraisal company before closing time.
Capital City Land Survey and Appraisal was located on De Vargas Street in a building that faced the Santa Fe River Park. The window in Donald Preston's office gave a nice view of the park and the duster of buildings across the way that denned the downtown city core.
Preston sat behind a map-covered desk. On the floor were an assortment of surveying instruments and two metal field satchels.
Somewhere in his forties, Preston had a prominent nose, thick lips that he rubbed together before speakng, and a florid complexion.
"I just did the valuation assessment on your property," Preston said.
"We're working up the final report to send to the estate executor this week."
"I'm really here on a different matter," Kerney said.
He showed Preston his shield and sketched out the facts of the skeleton discovered on the mesa.
Preston's eyes widened.
"I walked right by that grove of trees."
"When did you do the appraisal?"
"The week before last. I went out with my land surveying team."
"Were you with them all the time?"
"No, only the last day. The team was on-site for a good three or four days before I got there."
"Who was on the team?"
"Bill Kemp, Johnny Nelson, and jude Mondragon."
"Did they mention seeing anyone during the survey?"
"If they did, I didn't hear about it."
"Did you see anybody while you were on the property?"
"Not a soul."
"Did you see a dog?"
"I didn't see a dog."
"Did you come across any old campsites, discarded clothing, or litter?"
Preston shook his head.
"I saw nothing like that."
"Did you see any woodcutters or loggers on the road?"