"Did you want to say something?"
"I gotta get back to work."
"Thanks, again."
Numbly, Orlando watched Kerney leave before he pulled himself out of the chair and walked woodenly to the counter. The assistant manager stepped away from the drive-up station and said something.
"What?"
"You've got three specials with cheese coming up, and three large fries. The super drinks are ready to go."
"Okay" He stuck the drinks on the foam tray, packed the fries and ketchup packets in a bag, wrapped the burgers as they came up, bagged them, and turned toward the pass through window. The reflection of his pale face and pinched lips in the glass startled him.
Officers Garcia and Thorpe arrived in Santa Rosa and quickly discovered that there were no warehouses or storage units in the town. But they did find a number of boarded-up, vacant filling stations, motels, and other structures on the main drag that had closed down as new commercial development spread along the frontage road by the interstate on the east side of the city.
Garda dedded to check out the vacant buildings on the off chance that Aland was using one for storage. He assigned Thorpe to one side of the strip and took the other. After two hours of close patrols, he contacted Thorpe by radio, called off the building checks, and met with him outside the Santa Rosa State Police substation.
"I'm shutting it down," Garda said.
"Go home."
"I still think Sarge is right," Thorpe said.
"Aland has got to be warehousing the stolen merchandise somewhere."
"Not in this town."
"Maybe he's storing it in the countryside somewhere, where he won't draw attention to himself."
"Possibly. But that covers a lot of territory."
"I'd like to come back tomorrow morning and take another look around."
"We're out of our district. Let the Santa Rosa substation handle it."
"Then they'd get the bust."
"If they find anything."
"Just give me the morning."
"Don't be so gung-ho, Thorpe."
"Come on. Art."
Garda dedded there was no reason to squash Thorpe's enthusiasm.
"Okay. But I want you to work with Abe Mdendez. He's the sergeant in charge of the Santa Rosa substation. If you strike out, I want you back in Las Vegas by thirteen hundred. Now, go home."
Garda watched Thorpe turn his unit around and drive down the empty street. He flicked on the dome light, made an entry in his daily log, and informed dispatch he was off duty and proceeding home.
Her name was Jessica Varela, and over the past six months Bernardo had learned a lot about her. She was thirty, divorced, had no children, and lived alone on the second floor of an old house that had been converted into two apartments. She worked as a cashier at a hardware store and took night courses at the university.
When Bernardo first saw her at the hardware store he got really turned on. She hid her face behind long blonde hair, kept her head lowered when she spoke, and only looked up to give quick, shy glances. She had a smile that seemed like she was keeping secrets, a small, skinny body, slightly rounded shoulders, and a nice set of tits.
He went into the store a lot to get stuff for the ranch, and he used each visit to talk to her at the register, asking one or two calculated questions. He'd been surprised to learn how old she was; he'd figured her to be a lot younger. He found out she was a grin ga who'd kept her married name, that she'd grown up in the Midwest, and had moved to Las Vegas from Albuquerque after getting divorced.
Bernardo sat in his car across from the hardware store and watched me lights inside the building go out.
The store stayed open late three nights a week, and Jessica worked on those nights when she didn't have an evening class.
He watched the employees leave and waited until Jessica reached the traffic light at the corner before pulling onto the street to follow.
She always took the same route home, so Bernardo didn't have to worry about losing her. He passed by as she pulled into her driveway, made a U-turn at the end of the block, turned off his headlights, and coasted to a stop in time to see her unlock the front door and step inside. He waited until the upstairs lights came on before getting out of his car.
Usually he just drove away after she got home, but tonight something about the house was different; the downstairs apartment was dark.
Always before the lights had been on at night.
Bernardo walked down the opposite side of the street before crossing, then strolled past Jessica's house. There was a for rent sign in the downstairs window. That made him smile. The house only had one front and back entrance, and the rear door opened directly to the first floor apartment. He'd been looking for a way to get inside without being seen or heard. Trying to break in on a morning when she went to work late had always been a risky idea because of the downstairs tenants.
Now that problem was solved.
He wondered what the inside of her apartment looked like. He couldn't wait to see it.
Bernardo got back in his car and drove away, thinking he'd have to move fast before the landlord found new renters. He arrived home to find his grandfather leaving his parents' house.
"Jito," Nestor said.
"I've been looking for you."
"What is it?"
Nestor held out a business card.
"That policeman, Kerney, wants to speak to you."
"Me?" Bernardo took the card.
"Yes, you. Your uncle Roque said that you've already spoken to him once, about some girl. What is this all about?"
"I don't know, Abuelo. What did he ask you about me?"
"Nothing really. He wanted to know if I let you use my truck."
"I already talked to him about that," Bernardo said.