"Of course it does."
"I'm a private person. It's the way I survive."
"You don't have to explain yourself to me, Ms. Murray," Kerney said, hoping she would.
"Please, call me Kay. I know I've been impossible with you, and I want you to understand why. I'm not conventional in the way I live, and I stay away from those who are quick to judge."
She reached out and touched Kerney's hand. "I know you weren't doing that. But your questions made me feel that way. I had to settle myself down and get it clear in my mind that you were just doing your job. Will you forgive me?"
Kerney felt an unexpected arousal at her touch. He pulled his hand back and picked up his drink. "Of course."
"So now what?"
"Excuse me?"
"Now that you know all my secrets, are they safe with you?"
"I doubt I know all of your secrets," Kerney said.
Murray laughed. "No, you don't."
Kerney switched the wineglass to his left hand so she could clearly see his wedding band. She didn't seem to notice. "Would you mind a few questions?" he asked.
"About?"
"Judge Langsford."
"Go ahead."
"Eric characterized his father as cruel, heartless, and controlling."
"That's unfair. Eric and his father were as different as night and day.
Vernon was vigorous and virile-very charming with women. Eric has almost no sexuality at all. There's no spark to him. He's virtually a eunuch. At the most, sexually amorphous."
"Did Vernon favor Linda?"
"He doted on her. She was his only daughter."
"Why did you become Vernon's lover?" Kerney asked.
The question brought an amused smile to Kay's face. "You change subjects neatly. He always interested me sexually. I particularly liked the way he treated Penelope. I got to see them together a lot when I lived with her."
"What drew him to you?"
"I was his type."
"What type is that?"
"You could say a younger version of Penelope." Kay smiled as she leaned forward. "See? Now you know another secret about me. I like men. Do you know what a single woman really needs?"
"What's that?"
"A good mechanic and a great lover."
Kerney smiled. "I hope you've found both."
"I keep my antennae up for likely prospects," she said with a lilt.
"Did you get to know the judge's family while you lived with Penelope?"
"Only through her. Vernon was very good at compartmentalizing his life, if you know what I mean. And Penelope was, in some ways, a throwback."
"How so?"
"She was more a courtesan than a mistress, and very honest about her needs. She had all the freedom she wanted, none of the burdens of a wife, and a reliable lover who wasn't overly intrusive. I came to appreciate her view of life."
"So did Vernon, apparently."
Kay leaned back and searched Kerney's face with her eyes. "You mean the money he left us in his will. You make it sound almost immoral. Would you be more approving of us if Vernon hadn't been a rich, generous man?"
"I only note it."
"Why bring it up at all? You know I am clearly not a suspect."
"You do have a good alibi. I wasn't accusing you."
"There isn't one person you're investigating who had a dire need for Vernon's money."
"Except Eric."
"Vernon would have provided for him even more than he did. All Eric needed to do was get off drugs and clean himself up."
"Which, if my reading of Eric is correct, would have meant caving in to his father's wishes. That's something I don't think he was willing to do."
Kay gave Kerney a weighty look. "That's an interesting concept."
"Maybe the family liked having Eric be the oddball, to keep things in a crazy kind of balance."
"What benefit would Eric possibly get out of that?"
"Attention."
"Did you come up with this theory all by yourself?" Her tone was playfully mocking, as though she was talking to a misinformed child.
"No. Eric's former therapist reminded me of the concept." Kerney switched gears. "No one seems to want to talk about Arthur. Penelope told me his death devastated Marsha Langsford, and that Vernon was about to leave her when she was killed."
"Arthur was her firstborn."
"A hard loss, certainly. New Mexico is a community property state. Would Vernon have been willing to give her half of his considerable assets in a divorce settlement?"
"Are you suggesting Vernon may have killed his wife?"
"The thought crossed my mind."
"Do you think everyone is capable of such evil?" Censure crept into her voice.
"I think under certain circumstances people can and will do anything imaginable. Did you know Arthur at all?"
"No. That's not to say I didn't know who he was. Why is he important to you?"
"Three members of one family are dead. That raises my interest."
"All died years apart under different circumstances. You won't let this drop, will you?"
"Did you come here to probe my intentions?" Kerney asked.
"You think I have a conniving purpose," she said slowly, watching for a reaction.
Kerney smiled broadly. "Do you?"
The softness on Kay's face vanished, replaced by a icy, shutdown stare.
She opened her purse and dropped some bills on the table. "I've made a serious mistake. I thought you were someone who could understand."
"I'd like to."
"You play word games, Mr. Kerney," she said, as she stood up. "I think you're a cold man."
Kerney couldn't resist. "Not at all what a single woman needs." Her eyes ate into him, venomous. "Screw you."
Kerney stayed at the table after Kay Murray left and ordered a chicken salad sandwich from the bar menu. Only the mayonnaise made it palatable, but he ate it anyway.
What had brought Kay Murray down to Alamogordo to see him? He didn't think for a minute her motives were spurred by genuine attraction, although she tried to play it that way until the tactic broke down. Did she just need to confirm that she wasn't under suspicion? Kerney doubted it.
He was no moralist when it came to other people's lives. Experience had taught him never to trust the shibboleths of conventional morals and ethics. They often sugar-coated unpleasant truths.
He could buy the idea that Murray was a lusty woman, but why was it important for her to make him aware of that fact? It went way beyond a causal come-on, Kerney decided, or a simple need to be understood. Which meant she was either protecting herself or hiding something she didn't want uncovered.
The more he learned about the people in the judge's life, the more it seemed that Langsford's personal relationships went way beyond unconventional. Where that might take him, Kerney couldn't begin to guess.
He put some bills on the table to cover the tip, and a hand touched him on the shoulder. He looked up as Barbara Jennings leaned down and kissed him on the cheek.
"I hope that isn't your supper, Kerney," Barbara said.
Dale, Kerney, and Barbara had been best friends in high school, and Dale like to tell the story of how he fell in love with her the first time he saw her barrel racing at a county fair rodeo.
No more than five foot three, Barbara's light brown hair framed her widely spaced eyes and full mouth. Her face, now creased with the fine lines of middle age, held a perpetual look of curiosity about life, which she matched with a wide range of personal interests.
Years of ranching hadn't erased her sweet features, and in some ways she was prettier than ever.
Kerney smiled broadly and stood up to hug her. "It's good to see a friendly face for a change. How are you?"
"Just fine," Barbara said, as she motioned Kerney back to his chair and joined him at the table. "I'm in town for a daylong seminar on bull fertility tomorrow. Dale has me doing all the breeding stock buying. He says I'm better at it than he is, and he's right."