The Big Gamble - Michael Mcgarrity [102]
“If you get me her fingerprints,” Clayton said, “we might be able to put her in the cabin that way, also. We lifted a number of unknown latents at the crime scene.”
“You’ll have them today,” Kerney said.
“You’re sure Greer isn’t the killer?” Clayton asked.
“I believe her story,” Kerney said. “So do the detectives who interviewed her.”
Clayton nodded. “That’s good enough for me.”
“What’s next?” Hewitt asked.
“The Montoya case,” Kerney replied. “I’ve got strong circumstantial evidence that Norvell killed her to keep her from exposing the racket, but I need more.”
“Two of your reports mention Adam Tully,” Paul Hewitt said, leaning forward to put his elbows on the desk.
“He and Norvell go way back,” Kerney said. “They were boyhood friends.”
“I haven’t heard Adam’s name in years,” Hewitt said. “His father, Hiram, owns the fruit stand where we found Montoya’s body.”
“What do you know about Adam?” Kerney asked, his interest rising.
“He was the baby of the family—unexpected and spoiled rotten by Hiram. His mother died giving birth.
She was in her forties at the time. His two sisters are a good twenty years older. Something happened when Adam was a teenager. The family doesn’t talk about it, but Hiram kicked him out of the house, sent him to the New Mexico Military Institute in Roswell, then up to Albuquerque to the university. I don’t think he’s ever been back here since.”
“What did folks think happened between Tully and his father?” Kerney asked.
“Oh, there were rumors that Adam had gotten some girl in trouble, stolen money from his father, was using drugs—stuff like that. But they were just rumors and there was no evidence anyone could point to. The family stayed tight-lipped, of course.”
“Was Tyler Norvell mentioned in those rumors?” Kerney asked.
“Not as I recall,” Hewitt replied. “But Deputy Istee saw Senator Norvell’s car leave Rojas’s house two nights ago.”
Kerney turned to Clayton.
“And I know where the ranch is,” Clayton said.
“Excellent. Have you had any contact with the Tully family?”
“Yeah. I interviewed Hiram, one of his daughters, and her husband, and a granddaughter.” He passed his field notes to Kerney.
Kerney scanned through the papers. “I’d like to talk to these people.”
“I’ll take you around to see them,” Clayton said. With a resigned look he retrieved his notes from Kerney’s hand and held out his casebook. “I guess this is your investigation, now.”
Kerney shook his head. With few resources, and virtually no help, Clayton had done an amazingly good job. “You don’t get to bow out, Deputy,” Kerney said. “The state police officers assigned to investigate Senator Norvell have been advised that the Lincoln County Sheriff’s Office is in charge of this piece of the task force. As far as I’m concerned, you’re the lead investigator, unless your boss says otherwise.”
Clayton’s look of resignation lightened into a smile that he couldn’t completely contain.
“I’m fine with that,” Hewitt said. “How many agents and what’s their ETA?”
“Four. They’ll be briefed at noon. They should be here soon after that.”
“I’d better get cracking,” Hewitt said, rising from his chair. “Leave the casebook with me, Deputy. I’ll free up some space in the building we can use as a command center, take care of the details, and have everything we’ve got ready to go.”
Kerney stood. “You’ll have the task-force packet in hand before the agents arrive. Thanks, Paul.”
Hewitt hitched up his blue jeans and smiled. “No thanks are necessary, Kerney. Hell, this is one party I wouldn’t want to miss.”
Fidel, who had followed the cop from the highway turnoff to his house back to the county courthouse, waited for something to happen. It seemed like the Indian deputy and the cowboy sheriff went to work early so they could spend more time doing nothing. Ten minutes after parking, Fidel watched another cowboy—this one with a limp—park and go inside. Soon after that a few civilians and uniformed deputies arrived.
Fidel had hoped that the day would prove more interesting,