Hermit's Peak (30 page)

The messages had come in during the first hour Orlando had been scheduled to work. Maybe something had come up at school to make him run late. Gabe called the burger joint and asked for Orlando. The night shift manager, still sounding pissed, told him Orlando had been a no-show.

Gabe's thoughts turned to Captain Garduno's briefing on the special surveillance operation Chief Kerney had ordered on Bernardo.

He got out the copy of Kerney's report Garduno had given him, read through it, and stared out the kitchen window hoping Orlando hadn't kissed off work to hang out with Bernardo.

He dialed Ben Morfin's cell phone number.

“This is Morfin.”

“Ben, are you and Thorpe on station?”

“You bet,” Ben said.

“Is my son with the subject?”

“Negative. The subject is home. He arrived alone and there have been no visitors.”

“Thanks.”

“You got a problem, Lieutenant?”

“It's probably nothing.”

“You want me to keep an eye out for your son?”

“It wouldn't hurt,” Gabe replied.

“What does your son drive?” Ben asked.

Gabe rattled off the information, including the license plate number.

“Got it,” Ben said. “He's probably out cruising. If I see him on the streets, I'll chase him home and give you a call.”

“Thanks.”

“Anytime, LT. Way to go on the promotion.”

“Thanks, Ben.” Gabe hung up and tried to remember when Orlando was planning to visit his mother in Albuquerque. He thought it was next week, but he couldn't be sure. He punched in Theresa's numbers, and her boyfriend answered.

“Is Orlando there?”

“No. You want to talk to Theresa?”

“Just ask her when Orlando is due to visit.”

There was a muffled exchange and Theresa came on the line. “Is something wrong?” she asked, sounding terse.

“Not really. Orlando isn't home and I couldn't remember when he was going down to Albuquerque to see you.”

“Late next week. Why are you looking for him ?”

“To tell him something.”

“It must be important or you wouldn't have called me. Should I know?”

Gabe hesitated.

“Should I?”

“I wanted to tell Orlando that my promotion came through.” Silence greeted his announcement.

Finally, Theresa responded. “I hope it makes you happy. Personally, I could care less.”

Gabe hung up without saying another word.

He spent the next several hours at the kitchen table taking the sergeant stripes off his uniform shirts and sewing cloth lieutenant bars on the collars. He'd purchased the new insignias several months ago in a moment of optimism.

Gabe had half a mind to go looking for Orlando, but held back. Orlando didn't need an overprotective cop father looking for him in the middle of the night. He was over twenty-one, technically an adult, and a hell of a good kid to boot. If he needed a night out to blow off some steam, so be it.

Gabe stripped down to his underwear, dumped his clothes on top of the dresser, and climbed into bed. He wanted to get an early start in the morning. There was still a bunch of work to do on the Alarid–Santistevan bust, and he planned to get settled into his new office before the shift began.

 • • • 

Gabe checked Orlando's room early in the morning. His bed hadn't been slept in. He decided to think positively
about Orlando's overnight absence. The kid didn't talk about his love life, and Gabe didn't pry. Sometimes Orlando would stay out all night, come home looking pleased with himself, and shrug off any mention of where he'd been. Within a couple of days, Orlando would start getting lots of phone calls. When that happened, Gabe didn't see much of his son until Orlando's interest in the girl cooled off.

He got to work before the day shift arrived and found a hand-carved name plaque with his new rank and name on the desk in his new office. A card rested against the plaque. The gift was from Captain Garduno.

Gabe unpacked some personal gear he'd brought from home. He put a framed enlargement of Orlando's senior high school yearbook picture on the desk and hung a few of his department commendations on the wall. Then he cleared out his paperwork from the watch commanders' cubicle and dumped it on the floor next to his office desk. He put the Alarid–Santistevan case file on top of the stack and checked with dispatch to get an update on the Barela surveillance. Bernardo had stayed home all night with no visitors.

That made Gabe feel better about things. Orlando had probably spent the night with some girl. What normal kid wouldn't trade a night of flipping burgers for a hot date with a babe? If there was a new girl in Orlando's life, maybe that was part of the reason he was restless to move. Maybe the girl was graduating, going to Albuquerque, and Orlando wanted to be with her. If so, then it all made even more sense.

He left a message on the answering machine at home
for Orlando to call him at the office, and hung up as the day shift trickled in. He spent some time accepting congratulations, along with the usual kidding, teasing, and small gifts that went with them, before the troops started work.

He put the Alarid–Santistevan files for his meeting with the ADA in his briefcase and looked up to find Art Garcia standing in the doorway. New sergeant chevrons decorated his uniform shirt.

“Those stripes look good on you, Art,” Gabe said. “You want to go in on a promotion party with me?”

Garcia forced a smile. “Yeah, let's do that.”

“What's wrong?”

“A rancher just called in the license plate of an abandoned vehicle south of town, on the Gallinas River. Dispatch ran it through Motor Vehicles. It's your son's car.”

“Orlando didn't come home last night.”

“It may mean nothing, Gabe. The rancher said kids use that spot along the river all the time to party. Maybe Orlando just left his car and went off with some friends.”

“Who's the rancher?”

“Arlin Fullerton.”

“Did he give you directions?”

Art held out a slip of paper.

“Call Fullerton back and have him meet me there. Tell dispatch to cancel my meeting with the DA's office. I'll reschedule later.”

“You want somebody to go with you?”

Gabe shook his head as he hurried out the door.

Garcia found Captain Garduno making coffee in the break room and filled him in.

Garduno put the pot down. “Is that all you have?”

“So far.”

“Is Bernardo Barela still at home?”

“No. He's sitting in a truck outside a hardware store. You want him picked up?”

“Negative. Call Chief Kerney and brief him. Then put search and rescue on standby, including bloodhounds. When did Gabe leave?”

“Two minutes ago.”

“I'm on my way,” Garduno said.

 • • • 

Orlando's car was unlocked and his keys were in the ignition. A bank envelope sat on the dashboard. Gabe reached in through the open window, picked it up, and counted the bills—over seven hundred dollars. There were two withdrawal slips and a pay stub, all with yesterday's date. Orlando had cashed his check and zeroed-out his accounts.

He looked at Garduno and fanned the bills. “Orlando would never do this with his money. Never. Or leave his keys in an unlocked car.”

“Take it easy, Gabe,” Garduno said. “You can't always tell what kids will do. When Orlando shows up, I'm sure he can explain everything.”

“Orlando didn't party here last night. Nobody did. Look around. There's no fresh litter or beer bottles anywhere.”

“Maybe the party was over there.” Garduno raised his chin toward the crumbling walls of two old homesteads that flanked the dirt road. “Or maybe he's camped nearby with some friends.”

Gabe looked at the dense forest on the far side of the river. “Orlando doesn't like to camp. Where the fuck is that rancher?”

“Fullerton will be here,” Garduno said as he went to his unit and reached for the radio handset. “Check around those stone walls, Lieutenant.”

Gabe didn't move.

Garduno took his thumb off the transmit button. “Stop thinking the worst and check the ruins, Gabe. Let's go to work and find Orlando.”

Garduno waited until Gabe moved off before clicking on the handset. “I want search and rescue and every available unit at my location ASAP,” he said. “Contact Chief Kerney and ask him to get up here pronto.”

He dropped the handset on the car seat and went to join Gabe.

 • • • 

The helicopter pilot cleared the ridgeline and dropped down to follow the river. Below, Kerney could see an assembly of police cars and search and rescue vehicles, some with horse trailers. A blue domestic coupe, cordoned off with crime scene tape, sat in the middle of a dirt road. On a small rise behind the car, several uniforms were searching the ruins of old settlers' cabins.

The pilot gained altitude to keep propeller wash from disturbing the activity on the ground and planted the bird on the road a hundred yards away from the blue coupe. Kerney jumped out. Garduno and Gonzales met him halfway.

Gabe's face had worry written all over it. Garduno's impassive expression looked forced.

“What have we got?” Kerney asked.

Garduno took the lead. “Gabe's son left home yesterday morning. He cut his classes at the university, didn't show up for work last night, and never went home. One of Arlin Fullerton's ranch hands noticed Orlando's car here about noon yesterday. There was nobody around. The car wasn't reported as abandoned until this morning when Fullerton and a few of his people came back to move some cattle to another part of the ranch.”

Kerney looked at Gabe. “No sign of struggle?”

“No,” Gabe said flatly.

“You searched the car?”

Gabe nodded. “Nothing's missing. But I found over seven hundred dollars on the dashboard. Orlando cashed his paycheck and cleaned out his savings and checking accounts right after the bank opened yesterday morning. Withdrawal slips were in the envelope with the money.”

“That gives us a time frame to work with,” Kerney said. “Was the vehicle locked?”

“No, and the keys were in the ignition,” Gabe said. “Orlando would never do that. He worked too damn hard for the money to buy that car.”

“Did the car break down?”

“It runs just fine,” Gabe answered.

“Do you have any ideas why Orlando needed so much cash?”

“None,” Gabe said. “But it's every dime he had.”

Garduno broke in. “Arlin Fullerton said that people park here to hike and camp in the woods or party by the river. There are several trails on the other side of the river that lead to some remote, pretty canyons.”

“Orlando isn't into camping,” Gabe said.

“I'm still sending the search and rescue people up there,” Garduno said. “For all we know Orlando may be with some of his friends, or snuggled into a sleeping bag with some pretty young thing.”

They reached Garduno's unit and stopped. “Have you found anything to suggest Orlando is with friends?” Kerney asked.

“We lifted four different sets of fingerprints from the vehicle, but that could mean anything,” Garduno said.

“Is there any other physical evidence?”

Garduno shook his head. “Fullerton and his people trashed the area. They loaded the cattle on stock trucks right in the road. There's nothing but hoofprints, cow shit, and heavy-duty tire tread marks.”

Kerney turned to Gabe. “When did you last see Orlando?”

“Early yesterday. About an hour before he went to the bank.”

“Did the two of you talk?”

“Yeah. He said you'd questioned him about Bernardo's friends. He asked me what was up. I told him you were investigating the mesa homicide.”

“How did he react to that?”

“He seemed okay with it.”

“Did you talk about anything else?”

“I asked him why he was leaving early. He said he had to meet some guy from school who wanted to borrow his lecture notes. He didn't say who it was.”

“Is that all?”

“Pretty much. He got a phone call while I was in the shower.”

“Who from?”

“Orlando said it was from the kid who wanted to borrow his notes.”

“Does Orlando have a steady girlfriend?”

“No.”

“Would he tell you if he was planning to cut classes and meet some girl or go camping with friends, like Captain Garduno suggested?”

“Not necessarily. He'd know I wouldn't approve.”

The search and rescue team had mounted up. Four riders crossed the river, moved through the bottom land, and disappeared into the forest. “So, it's possible Orlando decided to play hooky,” Kerney said.

“Don't feed me crap,” Gabe said. “Something stinks here. You know it, and I know it.”

“Let's assume he came here to meet someone. Seven hundred dollars could buy two ounces of very good pot.”

“Orlando doesn't use drugs,” Gabe said.

Gabe was reacting like a parent, not like a cop. Kerney decided not to push the point. “Who would he come here to meet?”

“I don't fucking know,” Gabe said.

“Okay, we'll talk to all his friends. But first let's see if we can find out who called him.” Kerney opened his pocket notebook, tore out a page, and gave it to Garduno.

“What's that?” Gabe demanded.

“The names and phone numbers of everyone I talked
to about the mesa homicide.” Kerney looked at Garduno. “Call dispatch and have them request phone company records on any calls made to Gabe's phone. Start with Bernardo.”

“You're fucking crazy to think Orlando had anything to do with that.”

“You wanted me to cut the crap, Lieutenant. Bernardo works twenty miles from here. He's the only person I know with a legitimate reason to be anywhere near this place during the day.”