“Not someone like Deena Hurtado, you mean?”
Estelle shook her head. “Besides, if the intruder was a kid, Carmen wouldn’t have tried to call nine-one-one, Bobby. I get the impression that she’s a great one to settle her own disputes. For her to call the cops puts the whole thing in a different light.” She hesitated. “But stranger things have happened,” she added. “I don’t want to rule anything out just now. Nos vemos.” She glanced at her watch as she slipped her phone out of her pocket. She walked back across the living room, and before she reached the dining room, Penny Barnes answered the call in the county manager’s office.
“Penny, this is Estelle,” the undersheriff said. “Did Kevin check in yet?”
“Nope,” Penny said. “That rascal’s playing hooky.”
“You’ve tried all the easy places? The maintenance barn, stuff like that?”
“Everywhere,” Penny said emphatically. “I need his signature on a bunch of checks, and Tinneman is still breathing hard down my neck. They’ve had to cancel a whole bunch of things off the meeting agenda. I don’t know what Kevin was thinking, not letting me know even a little something.”
“He didn’t leave with someone?”
“Oh, Estelle, I don’t remember. At lunch, you know, everyone just sort of scoots. He went out saying he had some errands, and was maybe going to stop at the county barn. What’s going on over there, anyway? We’re listening to the scanner, and it sounds like the end of the world or something.”
“Nothing like that,” Estelle said. “If Kevin had some personal errands to do, who would know, do you think?”
Penny hesitated. “He probably talks to me as much as anybody,” she said.
“Who did he talk to this morning? Do you recall?”
“A million people. You know how it goes.”
“No one out of the ordinary that you remember?”
“I know that William Page called the office first thing this morning, before the meeting. They chatted for quite a while…and Kevin seemed upbeat about something. He didn’t say what.”
“William Page…?”
“That’s his roommate.”
“Okay,” Estelle said, “I guess I knew that. Do you happen to know where Page works? It’s Belen, isn’t it? Someplace like that?”
“He’s up in Socorro,” Penny said.
“You don’t know where, exactly?”
“Oh…” A pause followed and it sounded as if Zeigler’s secretary was flipping through a Rolodex. “William Page,” Penny murmured. “William Page.” Estelle waited, and she glanced up as Torrez sidled past her, headed for the front door.
Penny Barnes came back on the line. “Estelle, I don’t have it here. I know he has a company in Socorro.” She paused again and her tone changed a fraction. “That’s about all I know. Big help, huh. But they talk all the time.”
“Can you check Kevin’s desk for me?”
“Oh…”
“On second thought, don’t,” Estelle said quickly, hearing the indecision in Penny’s tone. “It’s not all that important. I’m sure Kevin will show up in a few minutes. When he does stick his nose back in the office, please tell him I need to see him? And I mean before he talks with anyone else, okay?”
“Is everything all right?” Penny asked.
“I just need to catch him,” Estelle replied cheerfully. “We have a lot to go over after the commission meeting this afternoon.”
“Which he skipped,” Penny said reprovingly. “That’s the mess he left me in.”
“We’ll nail him for you,” Estelle said. “Thanks a lot, Penny.”
“If I find William Page’s card or something, I’ll get right back to you.”
“Thanks. He probably won’t know anything, but it’s a place to try.” Estelle followed Robert Torrez outside. The sheriff was standing on the gravel driveway with his hands in his pockets. He appeared to be regarding Zeigler’s pickup truck.
“Zeigler’s front door is locked,” he said as Estelle approached. “I checked earlier. Nobody answered the bell or my knock.” Through the side window off the front step, Estelle could see a neat, thoroughly appointed living room. A mammoth entertainment center faced a large, pillowy, winged sofa.
She and Torrez circled the house but found nothing of interest, nothing that might hint what Zeigler’s activities might have been, beyond driving off to work in the morning.
“I have a warrant comin’ from Judge Hobart,” Torrez said. “Not that we need one. Pasquale’s bringing it.” Two more county units pulled into the street, and Torrez left to brief the officers.
Estelle sat down on Zeigler’s back step and fished her phone from her jacket pocket. After a brief a moment, she jotted down the Socorro phone number for William Page that the electronic voice from directory assistance provided. The phone rang five times before connecting.
“Hello. You’ve reached the residence of William Page. Either leave a message, or try me at PageLink, Incorporated.” The number he gave was also a Socorro listing.
Estelle dialed again.
“Good afternoon,” a cheerful voice responded. “This is Marci at PageLink. How may I help you?”
“Hi, Marci,” the undersheriff said as if they were old, close friends. “This is Estelle Guzman down in Posadas. Is William there?”
“Sure,” Marci replied brightly. “Hang on just a sec.”
In a moment, a soft tenor voice came on the line. “This is Page.”
“Mr. Page, this is Undersheriff Estelle Guzman, calling from Posadas.”
There was a pause. “Yes?”
“Mr. Page, we’re trying to reach Kevin Zeigler. An emergency has come up, and it’s something where we need the county manager’s input. I was hoping maybe he’d called you…that perhaps you knew where he was at the moment.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Mr. Page, apparently Kevin had some urgent business out of the office. He left a meeting of the county commissioners at noon and hasn’t returned. He didn’t tell his secretary where he was going. I thought maybe you might know.”
The line went silent, and Estelle gave Page a few seconds to think before she continued on, keeping her tone conversational. “I thought there was a possibility you might have talked to him this morning.”
“I did,” Page said. “I called the office and we chatted for a while, yes. It’s my impression that there was quite an important county meeting today.” Page sounded as if he was leaning into the phone, keeping his voice intimate. “But I have no idea where he might be. I’m not clairvoyant. What’s going on, Undersheriff?”
Estelle hesitated, loath to share any more information than necessary. “Mr. Page, we may need to gain access to Kevin’s house here on Candelaria. There’s been an incident next door.”
“At the Acostas’, you mean?”
“Yes. I need to talk with Kevin.”
“His secretary at the county office always knows where he is,” Page said. “But why do you need to get into the house? Did something happen there?”
“I don’t know yet. That’s why we need to find him. As I said, Kevin left the county meeting around noon. He didn’t return.”
“I don’t understand what you’re telling me,” Page said. “I thought this had something to do with county business. That’s what you made it sound like. Now you’re talking about his neighbors. What happened down there?”
“It’s an incident involving one of the Acosta children, Mr. Page. Because it’s next door to Kevin’s, and because his county truck is parked here in the driveway, it’s logical that we would want to find out if he saw anything that would be of help to us.”
“Is his car there?”
“The little blue Datsun? Yes, it is. But the house is locked, and no one answers. I was hoping that you might be able to help us, since you talked to him this morning.”
“You’ve got me thoroughly confused,” Page said. “Look, you said that he was next door at the Acostas’?”
“No, sir, I didn’t say that. He isn’t home. We responded to an emergency call at the Acostas’ address. There is reason to believe that Kevin might have been home, next door, at some time during a critical period in that incident. We have a warrant to search the premises, but I thought it would be helpful-”