Tularosa: A Kevin Kerney Novel (Kevin Kerney Novels)

Free Tularosa: A Kevin Kerney Novel (Kevin Kerney Novels) by Michael McGarrity Page A

Book: Tularosa: A Kevin Kerney Novel (Kevin Kerney Novels) by Michael McGarrity Read Free Book Online
Authors: Michael McGarrity
Tags: Fiction, General, thriller, Mystery & Detective
his degree in three years, finishing in the top 10 percent of his class. His parents, Matthew and Mary, had been killed in a head-on automobile accident while driving to Albuquerque to meet Kerney upon his return from duty in Vietnam.
    Sara skimmed his military service record, pausing to read the Silver Star citation. Kerney had led an extraction team into VC territory, encountered heavy enemy resistance, and successfully brought out a downed fighter pilot. After returning home, Kerney had enrolled in graduate school at the university in Albuquerque and married a woman who was a first-year law school student. In less than a year, the marriage had ended, and Kerney had quit school to join the Santa Fe Police Department.
    Sara wondered what had happened to precipitate so much change so quickly in Kerney's life. The report finished with a summary of Kerney's law enforcement experience. Rising rapidly through the ranks, Kerney had been a prime candidate to become the next police chief until he was badly wounded and forced to retire.
    Sara dropped the report on the cushion, rummaged through the bookcase for a map of the missile range, and spread it out on the carpet. The location of the old 7-Bar-K Ranch, identified clearly on the map, was almost within shouting distance of Sammy Yazzi's duty station. Sara's eyes wandered over the topographical symbols. Where in hell had Sammy Yazzi gone? Through Seep Canyon? Tip Top Canyon? He had stayed on the restricted road that crossed the basin to the small ranching settlement at Engle, but trackers had lost all sign of him at the entrance to Rhodes Canyon, still deep in the missile range. Sara knew Yazzi hadn't used Rhodes Canyon as an escape route. He would have been spotted by personnel stationed at the secret observation post that guarded the pass. And most probably he had not traveled through Engle.
    Every inhabitant, including the area ranchers, had been interviewed, with no reported sightings. So Sammy had skirted the canyon, but none of the intrusion sensors on the base perimeter had picked him up. The search and rescue teams she'd sent in had scoured the immediate area for his body with no luck. As her eyes drifted back to the 7-Bar-K Ranch symbol on the map, the telephone rang. Not wanting to talk to Fred, she let the answering machine click on and didn't pick up until she recognized the watch commander's voice.
    "What is it?"
    "That sheriff's lieutenant is still waiting to see you," the voice replied.
    "Send him over," she said. She put the report in her briefcase-she would finish it later-walked to the patio door that led to the backyard, and watched the wind spatter sand against the glass. The branches of a lone willow tree bent and jerked in the force of the gale. She caught a glimpse of her reflection in the glass door, made a face, and went to change into something less informal.
    Kerney slipped inside as Sara Brannon closed the door behind him, blinking his eyes and rubbing sand from his face. The short walk from his truck to the front porch made him feel as if he had been sandblasted. The weather had turned ferocious. Sara said nothing as she ushered him to the living room through the hall that divided a galley kitchen and dining nook from the main part of the house. In the living room another small corridor took a left turn to the bedrooms and bath. The house, a utilitarian cement-block structure, would have been depressing if not for Sara's good taste. A wicker chair with a matching ottoman served as a reading niche next to an oak bookcase. The chair faced the patio door to the backyard. On the top shelf of the bookcase were framed family photographs.
    Sara gestured for Kerney to sit in a second easy chair that matched an expensive tan couch. She arranged herself at the corner of the couch by an end table that held a lamp, telephone, and answering machine. On the floor in front of a low coffee table was an open map.
    "I expected to hear from you before now," she said. She

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