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At six a.m. Kerney called his office to get an update. Helen Muiz had pulled her people in at five a.m. to finish preparing the task-force packets. All participating agencies would have complete packets by noon. Larry Otero, who was also at work early, had ordered them hand-delivered by uniformed officers running silent Code Three to the out-of-town cop shops.

Kerney arrived promptly on time at the Lincoln County courthouse to find Paul Hewitt and Clayton waiting for him in the sheriff's office. After greetings, handshakes, and some small talk with Hewitt, they got down to business. Kerney kicked it off by detailing the breadth of the task force's mission, maintaining an equal amount of eye contact with both men so as not to give Clayton any reason to feel slighted.

When Kerney finished, Hewitt pulled at his chin in a failed attempt to hide a smile. "This could blow the roof off the state capitol, and put the good citizens of Lincoln County into an uproar. I wonder if Norvell and his political pals traded a week with a whore for votes from their legislative buddies."

"There's no telling," Kerney said as he handed out material on Sally Greer, Stacy Fowler, and Helen Pearson, who was described only as a confidential informant. "But discovering who their clients are will prove interesting. What I've just given you includes statements from three different women with personal knowledge about the operation, which has direct bearing on the Montoya case and Deputy Istee's homicide investigation. This is fresh information, gentlemen, gathered in the last thirty-six hours. You'll get full task-force packets as soon as they're completed."

Kerney watched as Hewitt and Clayton worked their way through the reports. The further Hewitt read, the more appalled he looked. Clayton seemed thoughtful and sober. He finished first.

"So Sally Greer was the woman with Ulibarri at the cabin," Clayton said, "and Fidel Narvaiz was nearby to keep an eye on her because Ulibarri was her first trick."

"That's what Greer says," Kerney replied.

"Did she witness the homicide?"

"No. Ulibarri paid in advance for twenty-four hours with Greer. When he went to the racetrack, Narvaiz checked on Greer and found her badly beaten. He got her out of there, took her to a motel room, and called Cassie Bedlow, who came and picked Greer up."

"I don't see that in these reports," Clayton said, tapping the pages with a finger.

"Greer's interviews were videotaped by APD vice officers," Kerney said. "The transcription of the second session wasn't completed by the time I left to come here. Greer did say, however, that Narvaiz left her with Bedlow at about eleven o'clock in the morning."

"Ulibarri was killed several hours later," Clayton said, "so Narvaiz had opportunity."

"What do you know about him?" Kerney asked.

"He lives on the Rojas estate and supposedly serves as a personal assistant to Rojas. The Debbie that Greer mentioned is Deborah Shea. According to an El Paso hotel security guy, she's a hooker. He also identified seven other prostitutes who probably work for Rojas. Initially, Shea alibied Rojas when I talked to both of them. Said she'd flown up to Ruidoso with him on his plane. Turns out that was BS."

"Tell me about it," Kerney said.

Clayton filled Kerney in on his inspection of Rojas's vacation cabin, which had exposed Shea's false statements.

Impressed with Clayton's good work, Kerney held back any praise and moved on to another subject. "And this Fidel Narvaiz, have you questioned him?"

"I've never met him," Clayton said.

"That's good," Kerney said.

"What's good about that?" Clayton asked. "At this point, he's our prime murder suspect."

"We need to work these cases without tipping our hand," Kerney replied. "Narvaiz was most likely ordered to kill Ulibarri by Rojas, so putting a murder charge on Rojas is a distinct possibility, if we can prove it. Did you get any hard physical evidence at the crime scene?"

"Ulibarri was strangled," Clayton said, "and we got some partial latents off the body around his throat that are good enough to make a match once we have something to match them to. And a few blond pubic hairs probably left behind by Sally Greer."

"Those hairs can confirm Greer's story," Kerney said. "Let's ask for a DNA comparison."

"If you get me her fingerprints," Clayton said, "we might be able to put her in the cabin that way, also. We lifted a number of unknown latents at the crime scene."

"You'll have them today," Kerney said.

"You're sure Greer isn't the killer?" Clayton asked.

"I believe her story," Kerney said. "So do the detectives who interviewed her."

Clayton nodded. "That's good enough for me."

"What's next?" Hewitt asked.

"The Montoya case," Kerney replied. "I've got strong circumstantial evidence that Norvell killed her to keep her from exposing the racket, but I need more."

"Two of your reports mention Adam Tully," Paul Hewitt said, leaning forward to put his elbows on the desk.

"He and Norvell go way back," Kerney said. "They were boyhood friends."

"I haven't heard Adam's name in years," Hewitt said. "His father, Hiram, owns the fruit stand where we found Montoya's body."

"What do you know about Adam?" Kerney asked, his interest rising.

"He was the baby of the family-unexpected and spoiled rotten by Hiram. His mother died giving birth. She was in her forties at the time. His two sisters are a good twenty years older. Something happened when Adam was a teenager. The family doesn't talk about it, but Hiram kicked him out of the house, sent him to the New Mexico Military Institute in Roswell, then up to Albuquerque to the university. I don't think he's ever been back here since."

"What did folks think happened between Tully and his father?" Kerney asked.

"Oh, there were rumors that Adam had gotten some girl in trouble, stolen money from his father, was using drugs-stuff like that. But they were just rumors and there was no evidence anyone could point to. The family stayed tight-lipped, of course."

"Was Tyler Norvell mentioned in those rumors?" Kerney asked.

"Not as I recall," Hewitt replied. "But Deputy Istee saw Senator Norvell's car leave Rojas's house two nights ago."

Kerney turned to Clayton.

"And I know where the ranch is," Clayton said.

"Excellent. Have you had any contact with the Tully family?"

"Yeah. I interviewed Hiram, one of his daughters, and her husband, and a granddaughter." He passed his field notes to Kerney.

Kerney scanned through the papers. "I'd like to talk to these people."

"I'll take you around to see them," Clayton said. With a resigned look he retrieved his notes from Kerney's hand and held out his casebook. "I guess this is your investigation, now."

Kerney shook his head. With few resources, and virtually no help, Clayton had done an amazingly good job. "You don't get to bow out, Deputy," Kerney said. "The state police officers assigned to investigate Senator Norvell have been advised that the Lincoln County Sheriff's Office is in charge of this piece of the task force. As far as I'm concerned, you're the lead investigator, unless your boss says otherwise."

Clayton's look of resignation lightened into a smile that he couldn't completely contain.

"I'm fine with that," Hewitt said. "How many agents and what's their ETA?"

"Four. They'll be briefed at noon. They should be here soon after that."

"I'd better get cracking," Hewitt said, rising from his chair. "Leave the casebook with me, Deputy. I'll free up some space in the building we can use as a command center, take care of the details, and have everything we've got ready to go."

Kerney stood. "You'll have the task-force packet in hand before the agents arrive. Thanks, Paul."

Hewitt hitched up his blue jeans and smiled. "No thanks are necessary, Kerney. Hell, this is one party I wouldn't want to miss."