The Big Gamble - Michael Mcgarrity [112]
“I wonder if Potter ran every morning before he started work,” Molina said.
Foyt shrugged. “I know he liked to run, but I don’t know if he kept to a set schedule.”
“We’ll find out,” Ramona said.
“Have you called Chief Kerney?” Molina asked Piño.
“Negative,” Ramona answered. “I wanted to secure the crime scene and get an evidence search under way first.”
“I’ll call him,” Molina said, turning to Foyt. “Anything else you want to add, Counselor?”
Barry Foyt glanced ruefully at Potter’s body. Foyt had been handling murder cases for the DA’s office for the last five years and had been called out to most of the major homicide crime scenes. But this was the first time the victim had been someone he knew and liked.
“Jack was good people,” Foyt said brusquely. “Let’s get a suspect in custody fast, Lieutenant.”
“If only it were that easy,” Molina said, thinking maybe he’d been stupid to let Kerney talk him out of putting in his retirement papers. Potter’s murder could turn into a real bitch of a controversy real fast if progress on the case stalled.
If he’d been smart, he could be out on a lake trout fishing without a care in the world, instead of facing the potential indignation of every judge, lawyer, prosecutor, and gay activist in Santa Fe.
Molina scanned the growing crowd before addressing Ramona. “I know you caught the case, Detective, but I’m taking over as primary on this one.”
“I understand, Lieutenant,” Ramona said.
Molina sent Piño and Foyt off to brief the detectives who were piling out of unmarked units, flipped open his cell phone to call the chief, then hesitated.
Kerney had picked up his pregnant wife at the Albuquerque airport last night before starting a two-week vacation. Their baby was due any day, and on top of that Kerney was having a new house built on some ranch land he’d bought outside the city.
But the chief’s policy was clear: No matter where he was or what he was doing, he was to be informed immediately about every homicide or major felony that occurred within the city limits.
Reluctantly, Molina dialed Kerney’s number.
Lt. Col. Sara Brannon handed the telephone to Kerney and watched his expression change from consternation to vexation as he listened to Sal Molina. She’d just told him that when her maternity leave ended she would start a tour of duty at the Pentagon in a plum strategic-planning position which would put her on track for promotion to full colonel. He wasn’t at all happy about it.
“What is it?” she said after Kerney hung up.
“Nothing good,” Kerney answered. “A lawyer has been shot and killed outside the courthouse.”
“You’d better go,” Sara said, shifting her weight in the kitchen chair to ease the pain in her back. In the last two weeks being pregnant had become increasingly uncomfortable.
“They can get along without me for a few more minutes,” Kerney replied, giving Sara a long unhappy look across the kitchen table. “I thought you were trying for an assignment closer to home.”
“Believe me, I did,” Sara said. “But there wasn’t anything available at my rank or in my speciality.”
“What about resigning your commission?” Kerney asked. “I recall a conversation we had about that possibility.”
“I’m not ready to do that,” Sara said. “You knew I was a career officer when you married me.”
“Things have changed, we’re about to become parents.”
“Thanks for the reminder,” Sara said, forcing a smile and patting her tummy. “I’d totally forgotten.”
“We can talk about it later,” Kerney said flatly as he got to his feet. Sara’s sarcasm annoyed him, but he didn’t want to quarrel.
“I thought you had the time,” Sara said.
“Not for this discussion,” Kerney replied with an abrupt shake of his head.
He left the kitchen and returned wearing a holstered sidearm and