The Big Gamble - Michael Mcgarrity [11]
Kerney had run his inquiry according to the book and come up empty. Montoya’s car, which was found at a shopping mall parking lot in Santa Fe the day after her disappearance, provided no clues or evidence of foul play. People at the reception remembered Montoya leaving the gathering alone. All in attendance had strong alibis for their whereabouts during the remainder of the night. Family, friends, and coworkers knew of no troubles which would have made Montoya want to go missing. Her fiancé, who’d spent the night Montoya vanished in the company of his roommate, reported no problems with their relationship. Faculty members at the school of social work disclosed that Montoya stood near the top of her class academically, had congenial relationships with instructors and fellow students, and had evidenced no signs of stress, unhappiness, or depression.
With nothing that pointed to a motive or a suspect, Kerney had dug for some dirt on Montoya, hoping to uncover a shady tidbit about her past or a shabby little secret. Nothing incriminating had surfaced. Anna Marie had been a solid, upstanding young woman who’d lived a respectable life.
He’d interviewed casual male acquaintances and all the men who lived in the apartment complex where Montoya resided in the hopes of finding someone who fit a stalker profile, but nothing emerged.
He studied the woman’s photograph, taken just a few weeks before she vanished. She had round, dark eyes that looked directly at the camera and seemed to hide nothing, full lips that smiled easily, a quizzical way of holding her head, and long curly hair that fell over her shoulders. It was an intelligent face that held a quiet, sincere appeal.
The telephone rang and Kerney picked up.
“I thought you might be working late,” Sara said.
Kerney smiled at the sound of his wife’s voice. “How are you?”
“Tired of being a pregnant lieutenant colonel in the army,” Sara replied. “Emphasis on the word pregnant.”
“Protecting the country from known and unknown enemies while having a baby does seem a bit inconvenient,” Kerney said.
Sara laughed. “The pregnant part is slowing me down and I don’t like it. I have to sleep for two, eat for two, and basically think for two. It’s distracting me from my career path.”
“Does that mean you won’t be the honor graduate at the Command and General Staff College ceremony?”
“I will be the biggest blimp of an officer to ever waddle up to the stage and receive that high honor,” Sara said.
Kerney let out a whoop. “You got it!”
“You’re first supposed to say that I will look beautiful at the ceremony, pregnant or not. Indeed I did, by two-tenths of a percentage point. And if you’re not here to see me graduate, I’m divorcing you for mental cruelty and emotional abandonment.”
“You are beautiful,” Kerney said. “I promise to be there. But it’s still a whole month off.”
“And you won’t see me until then,” Sara said.
“You can’t break away for a weekend at all?” Kerney asked.
“I’ve way too much to do. Besides I’m not sure you want to see me minus my girlish figure.”
“I’ll stare at your chest,” Kerney said.
“Even that has enlarged a bit.”
Kerney laughed. “I’ve heard from Clayton in a roundabout way.”
“Really? Tell me about it.”
Kerney gave her the facts about the missing person case he’d handled eleven years ago, and Clayton’s discovery of Anna Marie Montoya’s remains.
“Sometimes fate smiles on you, Kerney,” Sara said when Kerney finished.
“Meaning what?”
“Now you have a perfect opportunity to connect with Clayton. Use it.”
“I tried that before, remember?”
“You’ve had three, maybe four conversations with Clayton in your lifetime, all in the space of a few very intense days. That hardly constitutes a major effort.”
“The effort has to be mutual,” Kerney said.
“You cannot tell me that Clayton isn’t at least a little bit curious about who you are on a personal level.”
“He hasn’t shown any interest,