“Fly to San Diego and dump it in the ocean.”
“In my book that’s murder one.”
“I swear I’ll cooperate.”
“Take it up with the prosecutor.”
“Can you loosen the handcuffs? They’re hurting my wrists.”
“Sorry, I can’t do that.” Kerney got out and looked at Gilmore through the open door. “Try to relax. It will be a while before you go to jail.”
He locked Gilmore in the backseat cage and joined Leo at the airplane, where he was watching a deputy take photos of Buster Martinez’s body.
“Who’s doing the Q and A with Shaw?” he asked.
Leo nodded toward a sheriff’s unit. “Fowler, but Shaw’s still not talking, except to say unkind things about you. The ME and an ambulance are on the way. I’m releasing the state police officers.”
“I’ll catch a ride with them back to Lordsburg,” Kerney said. “Gilmore is going to tell you about their contraband cigarette scheme.”
“It’s not smuggling?” Leo asked.
“Nope. They’ve been stealing name-brand domestic cigarettes and selling them cut rate to distributors.”
Leo’s forehead wrinkled. “Who would have guessed?”
“They keep their inventory at the Virden barn.”
“I’ll get a warrant. Was Martinez a smoker?”
“I don’t think so.”
Leo glanced at Buster’s body. “Well, cigarettes turned out to be hazardous to his health anyway.” Leo laughed at his joke. “I’m really going to enjoy making phone calls to ATF and Customs.”
“Rub their noses in it, Leo.”
Leo grinned. “You don’t get many chances to do that to the feds.”
Kerney didn’t see Leo for several days, until the filming of the finale to the chase sequence at the smelter. He showed up in time to see a stunt driver roll out of a squad car just before it went airborne and landed on the flatbed railroad car.
When the car exploded into flames, Leo nodded in approval. “Now that’s more like it,” he said. “I told you they needed to blow something up.”
Kerney laughed. “It’s a realistic slice of police work, Hollywood style.”
They watched the crane camera shoot a crash between two cop cars before Leo launched into an update on the investigation. Over a half-million dollars’ worth of cigarettes had been recovered in the barn in Virden, along with almost a million dollars in cash. Shaw had been charged with murder one and denied bail. He’d lawyered up and still wasn’t talking. Craig Gilmore was also being held without bond on the same charge.
“I don’t think the DA is going to let Gilmore cop a plea,” Leo said. “We’ve got enough eyewitness testimony to sink them both. If it goes to trial, you’ll be called as a witness for the prosecution.”
“That’s not a problem,” Kerney said. “What are the feds up to?”
“They’re shutting down the network and arresting the distributors. Then they’ll take their evidence to a federal grand jury. I’m guessing Shaw and Gilmore will get hit with multiple federal felony counts.”
“Good deal.”
“This case is going to get me reelected by a landslide next year.”
“You deserve to be reelected. But do you really think, in spite of your good work, that the citizens of Virden are going to vote for you?” Kerney asked.
Leo guffawed. “Hell, no, but I’ll win anyway.”
The two men watched moviemaking magic for a while more before Leo shook Kerney’s hand, thanked him, and left. Kerney hung around until the police-related shots were done and then headed back to Playas. Sara had e-mailed him last night. In two hours she would be calling from Iraq. He couldn’t take the chance that the call would be dropped because of poor reception. He’d pick up Patrick, drive to Deming, and take her call there.
Although the conversation with Sara was long and upbeat, talking to her only served to drive home her absence. It gut-wrenched Kerney, and Patrick took it no better.
“I want to go home to the ranch, Daddy,” he said tearfully after the call ended.
“You know Mommy won’t be there, sport.”
“I know. But I don’t like it here anymore.”
“Let’s see what we can do about it.”
That evening after dinner, with Patrick at his side, Kerney approached Susan Berman and asked if he could be released from the remainder of his contract.
“I thought coming down here would be a good distraction for Patrick and me,” he added. “But I think it’s time for us to go home and try to get back to a normal life.”
Susan nodded sympathetically. “Of course. Can you stay on until we shoot the mob scene in front of the police station tomorrow? Malcolm wants the police reaction to be as realistic as possible.”
“I’ll be glad to,” Kerney said.
“Good,” Susan said. She paused as if to say more, thought better of it, smiled down at Patrick, and walked toward the production office.
“We go home tomorrow, champ,” Kerney said to Patrick as he hoisted him into his arms.
Patrick lit up. “When do I get my pony?” he asked.
“Very soon.”
The script called for the mob sequence at the police station to be shot in the evening, after the rancher and his cohorts had been arrested at the smelter. Kerney, who had no intention of staying in Playas another night, packed up and loaded the luggage in the truck before rehearsals began. He dropped Patrick at the nanny’s with a promise get him as soon as he finished, so they could leave immediately for Santa Fe.
At the set a hundred extras who played angry citizens, reporters, and bystanders milled around. The script called for all the lead actors and the supporting cast who’d participated in the cattle drive to be perp-walked to the police station. The mob would rush the cops in an attempt to gain the prisoners’ release. Once the prisoners were inside, the crowd would overturn a squad car and break the police-station windows before order could be restored.
Kerney spent an hour with Usher as he blocked the sequence, and answered his questions about how the police would react to protect the prisoners and quell the mob. When Usher was satisfied with the blocking, he went to the bank of TV monitors and called for a run-through of each shot. Kerney stood next to him and watched the screens.
Usher made camera adjustments and lighting changes, and by watching the monitors Kerney got a director’s view of the complexities of moviemaking. It was all about point of view, capturing different perspectives, and heightening the tension.
When it was over, Kerney said good-bye to Susan Berman and went to his truck, where he found Agent Fidel waiting for him.
“Bratton tells me you’re leaving,” Fidel said.
Kerney nodded. “I’m heartbroken that I couldn’t be of any help to you.”
“You served your purpose.”
“Thanks for the kind words,” Kerney replied. “You’re a real piece of work, Fidel.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Kerney stepped around Fidel and opened the truck door. “Have you busted the smuggling ring?”
“We have a plan in the works.”
Kerney shook his head and got in the truck. “Another plan? Outstanding. I hope it succeeds. Did you come all the way from El Paso to tell me this?”
“And to thank you for your cooperation.”
“Check your dictionary, pal. I think you’ll find that cooperation means that people act together for a common purpose and with a common understanding.”
“Whatever,” Fidel said.
Kerney fired up the engine. “Gotta go.”
“Steve Hazen said you have something to say to me.”
Kerney laughed. “Forget it. You don’t strike me as a person who takes constructive criticism well.”
The morning after their late-night drive home to the ranch, Kerney and Patrick spent time with the horses and did a few barn chores before heading to town to stock up on blueberries and other essential groceries his son had requested. At Patrick’s insistence they had macaroni and cheese with ham bits for dinner and then went for a ride on Hondo.
Over the next several days they visited preschools and found one that Patrick really liked. The children were well behaved, the schedule was well organized, the teachers were kind and caring, and the activities consisted of a good mixture of cooperative play and cognitive-skill building. Convinced that Sara would approve, Kerney enrolled Patrick in the program, to start the day he went back to work.