The contractor caught the tone in Kerney's voice and changed the subject.
"Will insurance pay for it?"
"Probably."
"Is it a full-replacement policy?"
"I don't know."
"The front door alone is going to cost plenty to reproduce. It was hand-carved from old oak. I'll have to subcontract it out."
"That's fine," Kerney said.
"When can you start?"
"In the morning."
"How long will it take?"
"A week, but I can't guarantee you'll have the new front door by then.
What's the deductible on the insurance policy?"
"I don't know."
"Isn't this your house?"
"No, I'm acting on the owner's behalf," Kerney said as he wrote out a check that dug a hole in his savings and gave it to the man.
"This should get you started. If it doesn't, let me know."
The man looked at the amount, smiled, and nodded.
"I've got some scrap plywood in my truck. I'll board everything up and be back tomorrow with my crew."
"I'll let the owner know you'll be here," Kerney said.
He shook the man's hand and left.
He hoped that arranging to have the house restored would ease some of Fletcher's pain. The way Kerney saw it, he'd been the houseguest from hell. gary dalquist's law office was in an old brick cottage across the street from the county judicial building. The front room served as a reception and waiting area. It had a tongue-and-groove oak floor, and a hand-stenciled fruit-and-floral motif that ran at the top of the walls next to the high plaster ceiling. Dalquist was leaning over a desk at the back of the room, talking to a secretary, when Kerney walked in.
He looked up and stepped across the room.
" I thought I might be hearing from you," he said.
"Nita told me you took a statement from Addie."
Kerney held out the transcript.
"I did. Here's your copy" "It's not often an arresting officer in a murder case is so helpful to the defense."
"You're not the only lawyer who's made that observation recently,"
Kerney said.
"But Wesley Marshall didn't put it quite so nicely."
Dalquist chuckled.
"I'm sure he didn't. I have a message for you. Robert is being discharged from the hospital today. He'll be staying with Nita for a while.
She wanted to make sure that you knew where he would be."
"Is he well enough to be discharged?"
Dalquist shrugged.
"He's a welfare case. Hospitals push indigent people out the door as quickly as possible."
"I hope Ms. Lassiter knows what she's doing. Robert isn't easy to manage."
"I said about the same thing to her, but she wouldn't be swayed. It may work out; Robert is back on his medications and seems fairly stable."
"He's acting okay?"
"He seems to be, according to Nita."
"When will you go to trial?" Kerney asked.
"Not soon, that's for sure," Dalquist replied.
"But when we do, I plan to mount a defense that won't leave a dry eye in the courtroom." Dalquist tapped the papers in his hand.
"Thanks for dropping Addie's statement by."
"You're welcome."
Outside, Kerney watched two deputies march shackled prisoners out the back door of the courthouse and into a waiting sheriff's van. The new officer uniforms, off-blue and gray in color, had been selected by the county sheriff in an attempt to professionalize the appearance of his deputies. To Kerney's eye, it made the cops look like valet parking attendants with sidearms.
He called Andy from his unit and said he was on his way back to the office.
"I'll meet you in the parking lot," Andy replied.
"What's up?"
"We're going to take a tour of De Leon Rancho Caballo house."
"Okay, I'll bite: How did you arrange it?"
"By using the prestige of my high office."
"Will De Leon be there to give us a tour?"
"Unfortunately, no. He left last night."
"How do you know that?"
"He informed Rancho Caballo security that he was leaving." andy had the key to De Leon house and the access code to the security gate that barred the road.
"Amazing," Kerney said in mock wonderment as Andy punched in the numbers on the keypad and the gate swung open.
"How did you get the code?"
"Rancho Caballo keeps all the access codes on file, so they can shut off systems when there's a false alarm and the owners are away."
"Park off the road so we can approach the house on foot," Kerney suggested.
"I don't need a lesson in tactics," Andy said as he coasted to a stop.
They scrambled up the hill, Kerney taking the front while Andy looped around the back. He finished his sweep just as Andy joined him on me veranda.
"Looks quiet," Kerney said.
"Same in the back," Andy said, positioning himself at the side of the front door with his.357 in his hand.
"Some place," he added.
"Do you like it?" Kerney asked as he took his station on the side of the door, the nine-millimeter in the ready position.
Andy put the key in the lock" Not really." He turned the key slowly.
"Don't get me shot. Connie wouldn't like it."
"Should I call for backup?"
"You arc my backup," Andy said as he pushed the door open.
The burglar alarm went off and they waited a few beats before entering.
They cleared die house room by room with the alarm bleating in their ears. They finished up in the garage and went back to a locked door in the lower hallway. It was protected by a keypad system.
"Well," Kerney said, "aren't you going to open it?"
Andy hit some numbers on the keypad and the alarm shut off. He punched in more numbers and smiled at Kerney.
"Try it."
The doorknob turned freely. Kerney swung the door open and turned on the lights. The stolen paintings were stacked neatly along the walls away from the wine racks, and the antique and pottery pieces were on a tasting table in the center of the room.
"Sweet Jesus," Andy said, his face cracking into a grin.
"I didn't know you were a religious man."
"I am now," Andy replied as he patted Kerney's shoulder and stepped into the room.
"Let's get some techs and people from the museum over here pronto." buck? watson broke off his conversation with his lawyer when the door to the interrogation room opened and Kerney walked in. He leaned back in his chair and sneered at the cop.
"Sorry to keep you waiting, gentlemen," Kerney said.
"Are you the arresting officer?" Earl Buffett asked.
"I am." Kerney smiled in Watson's direction and dragged a chair across the floor to the table. Bucky's sneer remained intact.
"I want this interrogation ended," Buffett said.
"It has gone on much too long."
"Mr. Watson is under arrest," Kerney noted.
"We can keep him here for quite a while," He sat down and carefully stretched out his right leg.
"How are you holding up, Bucky?"
"Better than you," Bucky answered sarcastically, studying Kerney's drawn, exhausted face.
Kerney switched his gaze to Buffett. The man had very little space between the tip of his nose and his upper lip, and a pinched jaw that pulled his lower lip down at the edges.
"Aside from the drugs found in the basement, what other evidence do you have against Mr. Watson?"
Buffett asked.
"Have patience, Mr. Buffett," Kerney counseled.
"Gathering evidence takes time."
"You've had most of the day to search the shop," Bufiett replied.
"Surely it doesn't take that long."
"Bucky's shop is only one of the places we've searched today."
"I assume you had search warrants?"
"Certainly."
"Where else have you been?"
"So far? His house, gallery, and the design studio," Kerney answered.
"Are you ready to do some hard time, Bucky?"