After they moved away from the table, Kerney lifted his wineglass to Sara.
"Perhaps you'll be the first woman to command a combat division."
Sara raised her glass in reply.
"Now, that might be worth staying in for."
"Seriously?"
"What a coup that would be. It would be hard to pass it up."
The waiter returned, took their orders, complimented them on their selections, and departed.
"This is turning into a lovely evening, Kerney. I think I'm going to have to put a star after your name in my stud book."
"Along with appropriate remarks on my performance?"
Sara smiled coyly.
"Of course. Do you know what I'd like to do after dinner?"
"What's that?"
"Show you my new lingerie."
"More research for the stud book?"
"Exactly"
In the late evening darkness, Gabe Gonzales stood at the open gate watching the district narcotics agent, Ben Morfin, load the last of the marijuana plants into a truck. The crime scene techs had left, the medical examiner had come and gone, Boaz's body had been removed, and Russell Thorpe was on his way to the district office with all the evidence that had been collected during the search.
It had been a bitch of a day. The discovery of the marijuana necessitated expanding the crime scene investigation to encompass the entire meadow and all the buildings. Gabe and the team had gone over, under, and through everything. They had even moved the firewood stacked in a room of the cabin, stick by stick, to make sure nothing had been missed.
At the greenhouse, the truck headlights flashed on and the engine kicked over.
Morfin drove to the gate, stopped, and spoke through the open window.
"That's it."
"You've got it all?"
"Exactly two thousand six hundred and seventy-eight plants," Morfin said.
"Boazjust missed a big score.
He was four weeks shy of a seven-figure harvest."
"I'll see you in the morning," Gabe said.
As Morfin drove off, Gabe closed and locked the gate and walked down the hill. The moon rose above Hermit's Peak, spreading a pale velvet light over the mountain and the valley. It made everything look deceptively peaceful.
A patrol unit at the bottom of the dirt track blocked access to the cabin. The officer inside the cruiser would spend a mind-numbing night on-site, guarding the crime scene.
He stopped, told the officer he would be at home if needed, got in the Ram Charger, called in his destination and ETA, and drove away.
It was too late to think about fixing dinner. He would get a pizza on the way home, spend a few minutes with Orlando, and then start in on the paperwork.
"Mom called," Orlando said, licking his fingers and reaching for another slice of pizza.
"She wants me to spend spring break with her in Albuquerque."
"I thought you'd be working over spring break," Gabe said.
"Yeah, most of the time. I told her I'd come down for a couple of days."
"She'll like that." The pizza tasted bland. Gabe pushed the box in Orlando's direction.
"I'm probably not going to be home much for a while anyway."
Gabe watched as Orlando nodded and chewed at the same time. He was a good-looking boy, two inches taller than Gabe, who'd inherited his mother's dark eyes and even features.
"What's up?" Orlando finally asked.
"I'm working two murder cases in San Geronimo. A drug grower and an unidentified female."
"No shit? Were they killed at the same time?"
"No. All we've got on the woman are some bones that were scattered on a mesa."
"No identification?"
"Not yet."
"Where did you find the bones?"
"Near Nestor Barela's old ranch."
Orlando wiped his hands on a paper towel.
"Think you'll be able to find the killers?"
"It's too early to say."
Orlando stood up.
"How come you keep doing this kind of work? Don't you get sick of it?