“I guess it isn’t a problem that’s going away anytime soon,” Kerney replied.
“Not in my lifetime,” Joe said. “Best we can do is try to keep them off the ranch. Walt Shaw does a pretty good job of that.”
The conversation switched to old times on the Jornada, and they reminisced and caught up. Kerney learned that Bessie had survived breast cancer, Joe had undergone a hip replacement, and Julia was divorced and now dividing her time between the ranch and her house in Tucson.
Kerney told them about Sara and Patrick. Only Joe and Bessie seemed genuinely pleased to hear him talk about his family.
Julia changed the subject as soon as politely possible. “Johnny says you’re ranching up in Santa Fe,” she said.
Kerney noticed the hint of a scowl cross Joe’s face at the mention of his son’s name. “Only in a small way,” he replied. “I’ve partnered with a neighbor to raise and train cutting horses.”
Joe nodded as he passed Kerney the platter of meat. “If you can pay the bills, there’s no better life than ranching.”
“True enough,” Kerney said.
Bessie smiled appreciatively as Kerney forked another slice of beef onto his plate. “I can’t resist your cooking,” he said to her.
After lunch Julia took Kerney on a tour of the ranch headquarters, the sun hot against their backs, the ground warm underfoot. Under a shade tree in front of Julia’s house, Kerney asked if she and Johnny were planning to keep the ranch in the family.
“It’s all mine,” Julia said. “That’s why I’m here so much of the time now.”
“Well, I guess Johnny has his own life to lead.”
Julia leaned against the tree and laughed. “It’s not that, Kerney. No matter how much he makes, money runs through Johnny’s fingers like a sieve. He’s always been that way. Daddy has bailed him out financially time and time again and has never once been repaid. So the deal is, I get the ranch, Johnny gets his debts forgiven, and we divide up what’s left equally.”
“That sounds fair.”
“Johnny doesn’t think so. That’s why he got the production company to film on location at the ranch. He figures the payment Daddy receives will change his mind about cutting him out of the ranch. It won’t.”
“I hope it doesn’t cause you any problems.”
Julia waved away Kerney’s concern. “Johnny will move on to some other scheme. He always does. Come on, I want to show you my little casa.”
The inside of Julia’s house was done up in light, cool shades of beige and ivory upholstered furniture. A choice collection of Navajo textiles, including a large chief’s blanket, were displayed on the living room walls. Kerney could tell that the house had been gutted and completely renovated. A stacked-stone fireplace divided the living room from the dining area, and the kitchen was ultramodern. A professional chef’s stove beneath a copper range hood stood at one end of the room, surrounded by maple cabinets with black marble countertops. A large antique drop-leaf table sat in the middle of the kitchen.
Julia’s master suite contained a king-size four-poster bed and a large Oriental rug that complemented the floral draperies. An alcove with a built-in desk served as a small office and reading area.
In the guest room on the opposite side of the house, Julia said, “Why don’t you come back here after your meeting in Playas with those Hollywood boys and spend the night? I’ll fix you a good meal.”
“It’s kind of you to offer,” Kerney said, “but we’re due to get an early start in the morning to scout all the locations.”
“The first few stops are here on the ranch,” Julia said, “at the rodeo arena and then on the route Johnny’s picked for the cattle drive.”
She stepped close to Kerney, rubbed his arm, and smiled coquettishly. “I promise to kick you out of bed in time for you to make it to work.”
Kerney took Julia’s hand off his arm and patted it. “It’s a delightful invitation, but not a good idea, Julia. I’ll see you in the morning.”
She smiled to hide her disappointment, escorted Kerney to the front door, gave him a kiss on the cheek, and watched him walk to his truck. He cut a handsome figure in his jeans, long-sleeved cowboy shirt, boots, and hat. He was six foot one, square shouldered, blue eyed, and had a cute, firm butt and the most absolutely beautiful hands she’d ever seen on a man.
Both her ex-husbands had been studs in bed, but totally amoral, charming alley cats. She wondered why it had taken her so long to learn the difference between men and boys. She’d hoped to find Kerney in an unhappy marriage and susceptible to the possibility of an affair that might lead to something more. But so far it didn’t look promising.
She waved as Kerney honked the horn and drove away, thinking that he’d be back for three weeks when the film started shooting. That would give her plenty of time to test Kerney’s matrimonial fidelity.
Chapter Four
Kerney arrived in the town of Playas ahead of schedule and used his spare time to take a look around. What he saw amazed him. Although he knew Playas was a virtually abandoned, modern company town, it was quite another matter to see it.
The two-lane road into town was paved, and just on the outskirts were two churches, baseball fields, a swimming pool, and a recreation center. The road looped around a grassy knoll dotted with trees that formed the gateway to the town, where a single-story apartment building with a covered portal faced the parklike setting.
Beyond the town a sweep of low hills rose up, rock strewn, barren, and steeply sloped. Backed against them the town looked out at a dry, glistening white lakebed in a broad valley that stretched to the Animas Mountains. The word for beaches in Spanish was playas, and the dry lakebed looked exactly like a pristine sandy shore without any water.
Playas was a bit of suburbia transplanted in the middle of the desert. A raven flew overhead and Kerney thought that from a bird’s-eye view, with its paved streets, Santa Fe-style houses, and modern commercial buildings, it could have passed for a bedroom community outside any major southwestern city. At ground level things didn’t look so normal. On street after street abandoned, weather-beaten houses with cracked stucco, warped garage doors, faded trim, and blank windows looked out on weed-infested front yards peppered with dead trees and shrubs.
A few occupied houses stood out here and there with grassy lawns and shade trees in full green color. Cars were parked in driveways, front doors were cluttered with children’s toys and bikes, and there were curtains in the windows. On a street at the top of a small rise the occupied houses were larger, lawns bigger, shade trees more numerous, and the views of the valley spectacular. Kerney figured it to be the neighborhood where the mining company honchos had once lived.
The commercial area of town contained buildings that had once served as a mercantile store, medical clinic, post office, bank, community center, and an indoor recreation complex. As a cop Kerney could see the endless possibilities for using Playas as an antiterrorism training center. It would serve perfectly for any number of training scenarios, such as massive house-to-house searches, SWAT-team helicopter incursions, bomb-squad disposal operations, hostage-negotiation situations, sniper training, and any number of high-risk police, fire, or medical emergencies. In many ways the town reminded him of a much larger version of Hogan’s Alley, a self-contained, fully functional village on the grounds of the FBI Academy at Quantico, Virginia, which was used to train agents in crime-scene scenarios.
He made a mental note to talk to his training lieutenant about getting sworn personnel enrolled in the program once it was fully operational. He stopped at a sleek, stepped-back stuccoed structure with multiple entrances and a flat roof, where several semitrailers were parked. A group of men were unloading construction materials. On the lawn in front of the building two workers were planting a large carved wooden sign that read: