"I'll step down from my position and take a reduction in rank to do it."
The worry lines on Nate's forehead cleared. "You'd be the best man for the job, no doubt about it."
"Then it's a deal?"
"Yeah."
"How's the new job treating you?" Kerney asked.
"There's a lot to learn. But I like it so far."
"Have you given Andy any grief yet?"
Nate grinned. "That starts when I tell him what you plan to do. I was supposed to shut you down immediately."
"Andy slicked me into staying on for this case in the first place," Kerney said, "and he gave me thirty days. Remind him of that."
Nate nodded. "Eric Langsford could have been lying. The videotape doesn't prove anything."
"I know it."
He left Hutch and spent a few minutes working out team reassignments with Lee Sedillo. Sedillo had found Hobeck's Ruidoso cabin and put an agent onsite.
"Keep him there and have our agents relieve the field officers covering Hobeck's residence and office in Albuquerque," Kerney said. "Have them pull double shifts."
"That spreads me thin, Chief."
Kerney nodded in the direction of the trailer. "When the techs finish, do a full search, and let's take another look at Eric's cabin in Pinon."
"I'll give it to Agent Lovato; she's the primary on the suicide."
"I want a full background check on Danny and Margie Hobeck, plus information of their whereabouts at the time of the murders."
"Senior citizens usually don't commit spree murders, Chief. Especially premeditated ones." Lee shook his head. "Jesus, is that a contradiction in terms, or what?"
"Nothing about this case is ordinary, Lee. Nothing fits makes or any sense.
"Man, I'm glad to hear you say that. I've been starting to think I was the only one totally bewildered by it. Are you going to tell Linda Langsford about her brother?"
"I'm leaving now."
"Do you have a few minutes?" Kerney asked.
Linda Langsford gave him a weary, exasperated once-over. Her port-red tunic-length shirt magnified a careworn expression and ashen complexion. Without a word, she turned and walked from the screened porch into the living room.
"What is it?" she asked, as she arranged herself on the couch and pushed her hair away from her face.
"I've come to tell you about Eric."
Interest flickered in her eyes. "Have you found him?"
"Have you arrested him?"
"No."
"Then what do you have to say?"
"Eric is dead," Kerney said. "He shot himself. We found him several hours ago."
Linda's eyes lost focus. She covered her face with her hands and sucked in a deep breath. When she looked at Kerney her eyes snapped with anger.
"Eric wouldn't have killed himself if you'd left him alone."
"He videotaped his suicide. On it, he said something I thought you should know."
"What did he say?"
"He thought the whole family was better off dead. What did he mean by that?"
Linda's mouth barely moved. "I don't know."
"He wanted you to watch the tape."
"Did you bring it with you?"
"No. Why would he want you to see his death?"
Linda forced herself to her feet, her body taut. "I don't know."
"It might help if you talked to me about your family, Ms. Langsford."
"Don't play therapist with me. It's insulting."
"Eric said his death would make you happy. Does it?"
"He was sick in the head. Can't you see that?"
"You gave him money: large sums delivered to him by Kay Murray."
"I had it to give, and Eric needed help financially."
"You had no other reason?"
"He was my brother, Mr. Kerney. Family."
"Why did you use Kay Murray as an intermediary?"
"Eric wanted it that way. Besides, he didn't like me. Surely, you noticed."
"There's one more point that concerns me, Ms. Langsford. I believe Arthur's death was a homicide, not an accident."
Linda recoiled, visibly shaken. "Impossible."
"Four violent deaths in one family worries me. I can't help wondering what could have caused it."
"What kind of fiction are you concocting?"
"I'm sorry to raise the issue right now, but I'm concerned for your safety. Can you think of any reason why Arthur may have been murdered? His death was the first in the family, and it could be an important link to what has happened since."
Linda's face hardened. "I can't take any more of these ridiculous speculations. Please go."
"I know it's difficult, but when you're able, think about it, Ms. Langsford."
"I'll try. Now, please, leave me alone."
Kerney had seen many people deny reality when given the devastating news of the unexpected, violent death of a loved one. It was an instinctive human response. Kerney hadn't seen that reaction in Linda Langsford until he'd raised the possibility that Arthur had been murdered. He wondered why it had surfaced for Arthur only.
Kerney caught Dr. Joyce, Eric's former shrink, between sessions and told her about the suicide.
Joyce let out a resigned sigh. "How tragic."
"I need to know more about Eric and his family relationships," Kerney said.
"You know I can't disclose that."
"Your former patient is dead, Dr. Joyce. What harm can it do?"
"But his sister is very much alive," Dr. Joyce replied. "Is Linda Langsford in treatment with you?"
"I have a patient to see, Chief Kerney."
"When did you start seeing her?"
"You need to be going."
Joyce's deflection convinced Kerney that Linda had recently started treatment. He leaned forward in his chair. "Help me out with some analytic theory, Doctor. I've been focused on family dynamics ever since we last talked, but I'm not a psychiatrist."
Lillian Joyce adjusted the hem of her skirt and shifted her weight in the chair. "I can do that. Generally speaking, most serious emotional problems are rooted in late infancy and early childhood, Chief Kerney.
The bond between parent and child is of particular importance in psychosocial development. If the healthy growth of a child is corrupted, most likely the individual becomes a maladjusted adult, unable to achieve close personal relationships."
"Corrupted?"
Dr. Joyce stood and ushered Kerney to the door. "My secretary has an office dictionary. Feel free to look the word up. Pay particular attention to the first entry."
Dr. Joyce had flagged the dictionary page with a yellow tab. The first entry read, "Marked by immorality and perversion; depraved."
Kerney smiled. Not only had Joyce expected him back, but she'd found a clever way to give him another hint.
Motorcycles dominated the traffic traveling to Ruidoso. Vintage hogs, expensive touring cycles, bikes with sidecars, and customized racing machines flowed around Kerney's unit, tailpipes rumbling.
Riders traveled solo, in pairs, or as part of a convoy, many of them carrying female passengers wearing club leathers.
Kerney dialed up the Ruidoso PD frequency and learned that the annual weekend motorcycle rally was under way. On the main drag in town, choppers snarled traffic, hundreds of them moving slowly in both directions. All the parking spaces along the street were filled with gleaming, polished motorcycles, carefully arranged in neat rows.
People wandered the sidewalks checking out the impromptu exhibition and talking to the bikers.
Stalled in traffic, Kerney consulted a street map and found an alternative route to Kay Murray's town house. After crawling slowly to the next intersection he peeled away from the snarl of motorcycles and down an arrow side canyon road that crossed the river.
Houses, cabins, and vacation retreats filled the hillside under a canopy of tall pines, and the warm afternoon had brought people out onto their decks and porches and into their yards. Small groups ambled along the roadside on their way to the event on the main street.