Deedee nodded. "He was real randy, if you know what I mean. He thought he could have any girl he wanted."
"Did that include you?"
Deedee laughed. "He tried."
"How did Linda get along with boys?"
"She was a real Miss. Goody Two-shoes."
"She dated?"
"Sure, and had boyfriends. But none of them got anywhere, if you know what I mean. I don't think she's met the right man. Either that, or she's just not interested in getting married again."
"Tell me about Linda's ex-husband."
"Bill? He's a sweet guy. He dated Linda in high school and then started seeing her again after she came home from law school. It was a whirlwind romance: they got married within a few months. Bill's father is the pastor of the biggest Baptist church in town."
"What happened to the marriage?"
"I guess they just weren't compatible. It didn't last a year. Bill left his job with the bank and moved up to Albuquerque before the divorce was final. Linda wouldn't talk about what happened, although I heard rumors that she was having an affair."
"Did Bill talk to you about it?" Kerney asked.
"Not really. I saw him in Albuquerque about a year after he'd moved. All he said was it had been a big mistake and that Linda wasn't the person she appeared to be. I thought that was really strange."
"Why?"
"Because they seemed like such lovebirds before the wedding."
"Have you kept in touch with Bill?"
"Sometimes I see him when he brings his family down for a visit. He remarried, has a nice wife and a cute son."
"I take it Linda doesn't like to talk about family or personal problems."
"Not ever."
"Was that true when she was younger?"
"Oh, yes. Whatever went on in the family stayed in the family. About all anybody knew was that Mrs. Langsford was sick most of the time and Eric was a problem child. That, they couldn't hide."
"Thanks."
"How can any of this possibly be helpful to you?" Deedee asked.
"It may not be."
On his way out of the neighborhood, Kerney noticed golfers in their carts puttering along on the paved pathways adjacent to the street, cruising toward the links. He noted the absence of parked cars, the clean gutters and curbs, the groomed lawns that showed no sign of the first kiss of autumn leaves, the uniform placement of mailboxes in front of each house.
Such a tidy little neighborhood, he thought, with nothing out of place.
Just right for all those people who find comfort and safety in a world of uncluttered sameness.
Parked a block down from Penelope Gibben's house, Kerney watched Kay Murray's Explorer coast to a stop in the driveway. The women talked for a considerable time before Gibben got out of the car and Murray drove away. He gave it a good five minutes before approaching the house.
Penelope greeted Kerney with a haughty look, ushered him into the living room, and immediately made her feelings known.
"This is hardly the time to be bothering people with your pointless investigation," she said.
She wore a simple black mourning dress with a single strand of pearls. No grief showed on her face, only displeasure.
"I understand Kay Murray spent several childhood summer vacations with you."
"What a perplexing man you are, Chief Kerney. You come up with all these little tidbits and wave them around like important facts. Yes, she did. My sister and her husband had very little money, and it was my idea to have Kay stay with me. I wanted to expose Kay to a better way of life. Was I remiss in not telling you?"
"Vernon would bring Linda over to play with Kay."
"Yes, he would, upon occasion. Looking back on it now, surely, it must have been a capital offense."
"Were you sexually involved with Vernon at the time?"
Penelope smiled with tight lips. "Looking for more little tidbits, Chief Kerney? I was not."
"Have you heard from Eric since he left Linda's house?"
"I have not. Good day, Chief Kerney."
Frustrated by meaningless tidbits, Kerney left, thinking that Gibben's sarcasm might well be right on the mark.
It was lunch hour and the executives had not yet returned from the funeral services when Kerney arrived at the corporate offices of Ranchers' Exploration and Development. The only employee on duty, a young secretary seated at the reception desk, greeted him as though his arrival was a relief from absolute boredom.
Kerney explained that he needed to compile a list of all past and present employees as part of the investigation into the judge's murder.
The young woman nodded gravely, escorted him to the personnel director's office, showed him how to access files on the computer, and returned to the reception area to answer phones. While the printer reeled off names, addresses, and phone numbers, Kerney read through Penelope Gibben's personnel file.
She'd begun her rise up the corporate ladder long before she'd be come Vernon's lover. After that, the promotions came more quickly and the salary increases were more substantial. Presently, Gibben was drawing a hefty six-figure income and held a nice chuck of corporate stock options.
For Roswell, Gibben was doing very well indeed.
Kerney shut down the computer, thanked the secretary on his way out, and went looking for Eleanor Beyer, a retired employee who'd joined Ranchers' about the same time as Gibben.
She lived in an older two-story apartment complex that had been converted into an assisted living center for senior citizens. Four rectangular buildings were sited around a central courtyard. One had been transformed into a community center consisting of a visitor's lobby, recreation area, dining room, infirmary, and offices for the administrator and medical staff.
Kerney got directions to Beyer's living unit and walked down the pathway. Mature shade trees and freshly painted park benches graced the landscaped commons, but the effort to soften the stark facades of the concrete block buildings failed. It looked like a way station for low-income seniors slated to eventually move on to equally depressing nursing homes.
It made the prospect of growing old-an idea Kerney had never found particularly appealing-even less inviting.
Eleanor Beyer opened the door to her first-floor apartment and looked at Kerney's shield.
"Ms. Beyer?" Kerney asked.
Considerably older than Penelope Gibben, she was small in stature and suffered from osteoporosis that bent her almost in half. She looked up at Kerney through thick, heavily scratched glasses that were taped together at the nose piece.
"Why are the police here?" she asked in a frail voice. "Has someone died?"
"Nothing like that. I'd like you to tell me about Penelope Gibben and Vernon Langsford."
"I haven't seen either of them for several years."
"You worked at Ranchers' Exploration and Development."
"I was the senior billing clerk until my eyesight got bad and I had to retire," Eleanor said.
"You do know Judge Langsford was murdered."
"I heard it on the evening news."
"Did you know of Penelope Gibben's relationship with the judge?"
"Everyone in the office knew about it. But if you wanted to keep your job, you never mentioned it."
"When did the affair start?"
"Some years after Penelope joined the company. I can't say exactly when. I never understood why Vernon took up with her."
"Why do you say that?"
"She was so standoffish and cold. But I suppose every man has a type of woman he's attracted to."
"Did you know Vernon's wife?"
"Oh, yes. I saw her quite often until the children were born. She was a local girl, so I knew her even before she married Vernon. He really shocked everybody when he proposed to Marsha."
"Why is that?"
"She wasn't his type at all. Vernon had a reputation as a man who only dated the best-looking women in town. Marsha wasn't particularly popular or exceptionally pretty. She was more the hom
emaker type. Few people expected the marriage to last. I don't think it was a happy marriage, especially after Linda and Eric were born. The children held them together."
"Did Penelope ever talk about her affair with Vernon?"
"Not that I know of. Certainly not with me. But you can't hide that sort of thing in a small town."
"Marsha never learned about it?"
"I don't think she cared to know."
"Did the judge have any enemies?"
"I really couldn't say."
"Who would know?"
"Talk to Bud and Jean McNew. He had some business dealings with Vernon that went sour, and she was about Marsha's only friend for a time."
Kerney spent an interesting hour with Bud and Jean McNew at their small ranch east of Roswell. The adobe home McNew had built on his two sections of land looked out over a sweep of sand hills that changed color from warm yellow to dull brown as passing clouds cut the sunlight.
Bud McNew, who once owned an oil drilling supply company, had been screwed by Langsford on a couple of equipment contracts back when crude prices made drilling new wells unprofitable. McNew had sued, and Langsford settled with him before the civil case went to trial.
Bud didn't think Langsford had any serious enemies, just a number of jobbers and suppliers who got rubbed the wrong way by his habit of not paying the corporate bills on time. All that changed when Langsford became a judge and corporate management was assumed by a blind trust set up to ensure that he would have no conflict of interest in any legal matters involving his companies. During Langsford's tenure on the bench, the companies had cut back on gas and oil drilling and expanded into land development, which increased his wealth several times over.
Kerney got Bud talking about Langsford and his associates and learned that Vernon had used Danny Hobeck as a contract geologist to assess state trust lands and bid on gas and oil leases for his company.
Jean McNew talked about the early days of Marsha's marriage, and how happy Marsha had seemed at the time. She never knew what soured the relationship, but always suspected it was Vernon's womanizing.
According to Mrs. McNew, Vernon had a string of extramarital affairs before he "settled down" into a relationship with Penelope Gibben.
When Kerney asked her to describe Marsha Langsford's personality, Jean said that she was a submissive person who never asserted herself. She characterized most of Marsha's illness as psychosomatic. Although she couldn't say for sure, Jean felt that Marsha knew about Vernon's philandering and had simply retreated in the face of it. Arthur's tragic death had pushed her over the brink into an almost total self-imposed isolation.
After leaving Bud and Jean McNew, Kerney tried a second visit to Margie Hobeck. His knock at the door was answered by the three cats and a woman Kerney didn't know.
"Margie has gone away with her brother," the woman said. "I'm watching the cats for her." She nodded at the adjacent house. "I live next door."
"Where did she go with Danny?"
"Albuquerque. That's where he lives."
"How long will she be gone?" Kerney asked. "Three or four days."
"Has she ever asked you to watch her cats before?"
"No, but I'm delighted to do it," the woman said with a smile. "It's about time she did something more than just stay at home."
"Did you see her or speak to her before she left?"
"No, her brother called and then brought the house key over before they left."
Kerney decided it was time to talk to Leonora Wister, Vernon's first cousin, again.
The afternoon sky had clouded over when Kerney arrived at the Bitter Lake Bed and Breakfast where Leonora Wister was staying. Her Cadillac was parked outside and a light was on in the cottage. She answered the door dressed in traveling clothes.
"Danny wasn't very happy with me for telling you where to find him," she said.
"I don't see why," Kerney said, again trying hard not to stare at Leonora's blue gray hair. "We had a pleasant conversation."
"You threatened to arrest him on the night before his best friend's funeral."
"But I didn't."
"That's true."
"I came here to ask you for your help. I know you must want Vernon's killer found."
"Of course I do, but everyone is saying that Eric killed his father."
"We don't know that for sure," Kerney said.
"How can I be of any help
"The more I know about Judge Langsford, his family, friends, and associates, the more I can narrow down my investigation. I know it's an uncomfortable time for me to be interviewing people, but I have no alternative."
Leonora's expression softened. "You do have a job to do, don't you? What would you like to know?"
"Tell me about Danny."
"Danny couldn't kill Vernon. Vernon meant everything to him. Vernon's father gave Danny's father a job-the best job he ever had-and paid Danny's way through college. He was Vernon's room mate. He's had a contract with Vernon's company ever since he became a registered geologist. Without the support he got from Vernon and his father starting out, Danny would have probably been a roughneck oil worker, living in a trailer park, drawing unemployment six months out of the year."
"Did Vernon's father help any of Danny's other friends with their schooling?"
"Not that I know of. It was a special situation. Danny and Vernon were inseparable-almost like brothers. Vernon told his dad that he wouldn't go to college unless Danny went with him. And when Vernon took over the companies, he made sure that Danny had a chance to build his reputation as a petroleum geologist. He's considered one of the best in the Southwest."
"That makes a lot of things clearer. Did you know he took Margie with him to Albuquerque?"
Leonora's eyes widened. "That's amazing. I've never known Margie to budge from her house for anything other than work and necessary errands. Good for her. It's about time Margie did some thing besides stay at home."
"She doesn't speak highly of Vernon."
"She never got over feeling that Vernon stole her brother away from her. She used to adore Danny; followed him everywhere until Vernon took over Danny's life."
"Took over, how?"
Leonora shrugged a shoulder. It made her thick upper arm jiggle. "You know how boys are, one always has to be the leader. Vernon led and Danny followed."
On his way back to town, Kerney called Lee Sedillo and asked if any correspondence from Danny Hobeck had been found during the search of Judge Langsford's house.
"Nothing, Chief," Lee said, after checking the inventory of reviewed documents. "And no long-distance telephone calls, either."
From the parking lot of a family-owned grocery store near his motel, he called Penelope Gibben.
"Does Ranchers' have a current consulting contract with Danny Hobeck?" he asked.
"Yes."
"How much do you pay him?"
"It's in the hundred-thousand range."
"Annually?"
"Yes."
"How long has he been under contract?"
"For many years."
"What does he do to earn the money?" Kerney asked.
"I'd have to pull the contract for the specifics."
"I'd like a copy of every contract."
"I can't do that without our lawyer's permission."
"I'll have an officer at your house within an hour with a court order," Kerney said. He disconnected and dialed up the district office.
In the grocery store Kerney picked through the fresh produce section and got what he needed to make a good salad.
His motel, close to the New Mexico Military Institute, was an improvement over his room in Alamogordo. He had a suite that came with a kitchenette, a sitting room, and a separate sleeping area.
At the checkout counter he stood behind a woman who had also shopped for an evening meal. Only she would be cooking for two and serving a nice bottle of red wine with dinner. Kerney looked down at the few items in his hands and started missing Sara. He watched
the woman swing her way out the automatic doors and bit back on the feeling of loneliness that nipped at him.
He walked into the motel lobby carrying his groceries and saw Clayton sitting at a couch with a woman and two small children. They stood in unison when Kerney approached.
"You wanted to meet my family," Clayton said, rubbing the head of the little boy at his side. "This is Wendell." He pointed to the child in the woman's arms. "That's Hannah. And this is my wife, Grace."
Wendell stepped forward and with a serious look extended his hand.
Kerney bent down and shook it. "Hello, Grandfather," Wendell said.
"Hello, Wendell. It's nice to meet you."
Wendell nodded and, well coached for the occasion, stepped back to his father's side.
"Mrs. Istee," Kerney said, as he stood upright. She was a small-boned pretty woman with an arrow face and even features that gave her a classy look.
"Chief Kerney," Grace replied, nodding her head as she scooped up Hannah, who had started to toddle away.
Kerney looked from face to face. Clayton and his family had dressed for the occasion: father and son wore pressed jeans and fresh shirts, and mother and daughter each wore white blouses and dark skirts.
His eyes settled on Clayton. "Please be my guests for dinner," he said.
Clayton shook his head. "We can't, but thank you anyway. We just stopped by a few minutes ago so you could meet my family. We have a lot of errands to run before we go home."
"Some other time then," Kerney said, smiling at Grace.
"I'd like that," Grace said, giving Kerney a small smile in return.
"So would I," Kerney replied, switching his gaze back to Clayton.
"Thank you for doing this."
"My mother kept your letters," Clayton said. "But she wouldn't let me read them."
"Thank her for saving me from the embarrassment," Kerney said.
"Were they that mushy?"
"Yeah, I guess they were."
Clayton nodded a good-bye and led his family through the lobby doors. Looking at Kerney over her mother's shoulder, Hannah waved.
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