"I don't think so."
"Do you know who he hangs with?"
"My son, Orlando, might. He's known Bernardo since high school. They played varsity baseball together."
"How can I contact Orlando?"
"He's at work." Gabe gave Kerney the name of the fast-food burger joint.
"Can I ask what you've got going, Chief?"
"I've got a possible ID on the dead woman, and information that Bernardo may have had more than a passing interest in her."
"That's it?"
"He was seen in the company of an unknown companion on the road to Ojitos Prios the day the dead woman disappeared."
"That's worth checking out. Is the victim on our missing persons list?"
"She was never reported as missing."
Gabe waited for more but Kerney remained silent.
"Orlando may be able to help you. He doesn't pal around with Bernardo all that much, but he probably knows who does."
Til stop by and talk to him."
"Captain Garduno is going to ding me for working this case. Chief. I'm getting a letter of reprimand for my personnel jacket."
"No, you're not. Garduno is going to write me up."
"You're kidding, right?"
Tm serious. In fact, I made it an order."
Speechless, Gabe watched Kerney leave. Never in his career had Gabe ever known of a commander or supervisor ordering a subordinate to write him up. Kerney's action took Gabe off the hook, big time. The chief knew how to keep his word.
He thought about calling Orlando at work to let him know Kerney would be coming around to ask questions, and decided against it. Orlando could handle the situation without any fatherly advice.
He walked toward Bema's house. It was time to sit down with the girl and take a written statement.
Although the day had not been overly hot, the cool of the evening brought many Tucson residents out on the streets. Most stores and small businesses stayed open late to accommodate shoppers, and the wide boulevards buzzed with traffic.
Susie had made dinner reservations at a restaurant located in one of Tucson's original shopping malls. Sara expected to be dining in an enclosed, air-conditioned space filled with franchised businesses and chain department stores. Instead she found herself seated on the open patio of a bistro in a single-story, block-long building that had a mission-style feel to it.
After the meal and a lot of small talk, they wandered in and out of the bookstores, art galleries, boutiques, and antique shops mat opened onto interior patios nicely landscaped with mesquites, paloverde trees, and creosote bushes.
On their way to Susie's car, Sara paused at the window of an art gallery and studied a large oil of cottonwood trees in full fall color.
She looked for the artist's signature and found it.
"That's Irma Fergurson's work."
"The woman who left Kerney the land?"
"Yes."
"It's a wonderful painting."
Sara stepped toward the gallery door.
"Are you sure you want to go in?"
"Why not?"
"You've avoided any mention of Kerney for the last six hours," Susie said.
"I'd hate to see you break your code of silence."
"Don't be so sarcastic."
"I bet you haven't stopped thinking about him since you left Santa Fe,"
Susie said as she opened the gallery door.
Sara paused.
"Would you like to see more of Erma's work or not?"
Susie smiled sweetly.
"Of course I would."
The gallery had a large number of Erma's paintings.
The owner, an older man, explained that he had exclusively represented Erma in Tucson for a number of years.
Sara lost herself in Erma's landscapes. There were pine forests climbing sheer mountain walls, barrel cactus ablaze in color on rolling desert sand dunes, pinon woodlands stretching across tabletop mesas, and fields of hot yellow wildflowers coursing through a valley.
Erma's works celebrated the light, sky, and vastness of the land. The smallest image was priced above $10,000, and most commanded three times that amount.
The gallery owner heard Sara sigh as she finished a second, thorough inspection of Erma's paintings.
"Her works are heavily collected," he said.
"I have clients who have built additions on their homes to accommodate her larger works."