Kerney followed the men to the landing zone. No time was wasted getting Jim in the chopper and on his way to the hospital. At the barricade a half mile farther down the canyon, he found a gathering of men and vehicles, including Omar Gatewood, two deputy sheriffs, a Game and Fish officer, and one of Carol Cassidy's permanent rangers. For some unexplained reason, two sheriffs patrol cars had emergency lights flashing, the colors almost completely washed out in the bright aquamarine sky. It must be for crowd control, Kerney reckoned, eyeing the canyon, empty except for the small circle of men, thinking that he was starting to catch Jim's offbeat sense of humor.
Sheriff Gatewood pulled Kerney aside for a briefing.
They stood next to Gatewood's patrol unit. The police radio cracked with traffic about the ambush.
"What in the hell happened up there?" Gatewood demanded.
Kerney filled Gatewood in with an absolute minimum of facts.
"Who would want to shoot him?" Gatewood asked, as though Kerney could supply the answer.
"The more important question is why was Jim shot," Kerney proposed.
"Hell if I know," Gatewood admitted, tugging an earlobe.
"I'll send the boys up the road to see what they can find." He waved his hand in a come-here gesture at the officers.
"Give your boss a call," he added.
"She wants to see you."
"What's up?" "Can't say," Omar said, bending down to brush dirt off his shiny boots with a handkerchief. He walked to meet the officers halfway, issued some orders, and caught up with Kerney at his truck.
"I'm going to make sure Jim gets a special commendation out of this."
"That's a good idea," Kerney replied, trying to bite back the sarcasm.
It didn't work.
"After you do that, why don't you dispatch a deputy to patrol the Mangas road and get a reconnaissance chopper in the air, just on the off chance they may spot somebody coming out of the forest."
Gatewood's expression changed to a scowl.
"You got a bad habit of telling me what to do, Kerney. You know that?"
"Wrong, Gatewood. I'm just suggesting that maybe you ought to get your priorities straight." He threw Jim's day pack in the cab, fired up the truck, and left Gatewood in a puff of road dust. In the rearview mirror he saw Omar bending down to brush off his boots with a handkerchief one more time.
The early-evening sky was a banner of pink-and white clouds bordered by azure blue. Kerney checked his watch. Quitting time had come and gone.
Carol was probably at home. He'd swing by and see her.
Charlie Perry drove past as Kerney turned onto the road to the compound where Carol and her family lived. Kerney waved at Charlie to be polite and got a quick nod in exchange.
Carol's husband answered Kerney's knock, invited him inside, and had him wait in the front room. With a piano against one wall, a loom with an unfinished weaving next to a window, and the remaining space filled with homey overstuffed chairs and oak furniture, the room felt both cluttered and comfortable. Carol came out of the kitchen, drying her hands on a dish towel.
"I've been listening to the scanner," she said, before Kerney could greet her.
"Is Jim going to be all right?"
"I think he'll make it."
"Thank goodness." She draped the dish towel on the arm of a chair and sat down.
"Please," she said, motioning to another chair across from her.
Kerney joined her.
"You wanted to see me?"
"Yes. There's no easy way to say this, so I'll just barge ahead. I've been ordered to fire you."
Kerney took it in.
"Is that why Charlie Perry was here?"
"Peripherally. He's been given the mountain lion case."
"Any particular reason why?"
"Because the acting regional forester, who's some thing of a barracuda, decided my decision to use you on the investigation was ill-advised.
Charlie kissed up to him and got the assignment."
"Are you in trouble?" Kerney asked.
"No way. Charlie hasn't got that kind of juice.
Neither does the regional forester."
"So what's this really about?" Kerney inquired.
Carol shrugged.
"Public relations. Bad press. Inability to take the heat. You name it. Aldrich got bitched at by the state police chief and grilled by some reporters. Seems that Omar Gatewood's press release raised the attention of the media."
"That man is a real work of art."
Carol shook her head.
"Tell me about it. I chewed him out for not including me in on the plan."
"I assumed you knew."
"Not until I read it in the newspaper."
Kerney gave Carol an apologetic look.
"I should have told you what was happening. Are you sure you're not in hot water?"
"Not to worry. I already told you I wasn't." Carol stopped talking for a minute.
"You seem more concerned about me than yourself."
Kerney laughed.
"It hasn't sunk in yet. I've never been fired before." "I haven't told anyone about your termination, although I'm sure Charlie Perry will get the word out, if he hasn't already. So, I'm giving you two weeks' notice, and placing you on administrative leave with pay. Technically, your commission will remain valid till then."
"Do you want me to work undercover?"
Carol's eyes flashed.
"You bet I do. Especially after what happened to Jim Stiles. Now it's personal.
I like that young man a hell of a lot. This shooting wasn't a random act of violence. It couldn't be. It has to be tied in with the murder at Elderman Meadows. Are you game?"
"More than game," Kerney replied.
"Catch the bastard, Kevin."
"It would give me great pleasure."
"Two weeks," Carol reminded him.
"That's all the time I can squeeze out for you without being insubordinate."
"A lot can happen in two weeks," he replied.
Henry Lujan, the seasonal employee who manned the lookout tower on Mangas Mountain, gave Kerney a tour. The building, an elevated room on steel pillars with an outside deck that ran around the perimeter of the structure, was glassed on all sides. The amenities consisted of an outdoor privy situated under a tree at the base of the structure and a holding tank for drinking water, replenished by truck as needed.
Kerney walked the deck with Henry, a college student in his third year as a summer worker. The views in every direction were incredible, especially to the west, where a blood-red sunset slashed across the horizon. Lujan pointed out some landmarks before taking Kerney inside: a mountaintop in Arizona, the solitary Allegros Peak on the Continental Divide, and the barely visible plateau that marked the sacred Zuni Salt Lake.
"I can't believe what's been going on around here," Henry said. He hitched himself into a sitting position on a counter that held communication equipment, his feet dangling off the floor. He was about five feet five with a well-developed upper body. He had an easygoing style.
"First the thing at Elderman Meadows, and now Jim Stiles getting shot."
He shook his head in disbelief.
"Too much, man."
"Jim talked to you about Elderman Meadows."
"Yeah. The same day it happened. There wasn't much I could tell him. I don't pay any attention to the meadows. Nobody goes in there except our people and Game and Fish."
"What were you doing at the time?"
Lujan nodded at the cot in the corner of the room.
He had a young face for his age, bony and not yet fleshed-out. Under the cot was a set of barbells. A color television on a metal stand stood at the foot of the cot.
"I was crashed. The radio traffic woke me up. Weekends, I work split shifts because we've got more people camping in the forest. Mornings and nights, that's when I work. When the man-made fire danger is the greatest. Campfires. Cigarettes. That kind of stuff."
"So you were asleep?"