Luciano Salgado, the state police captain who commanded the district office, and an emergency room doctor who also served as the search and rescue director. Together, they went over the sheriff’s search plan, which consisted of a concentrated sweep of the valley and surrounding area before moving into the higher country. When the searchers had assembled, Salgado divided the personnel into teams and gave out grid assignments. A sober and silent group of three dozen men and women fanned out in all four directions, the quiet broken only by the rough, querulous sound of Mexican jays in the tall pines and the low whine of a commercial jet thirty thousand feet overhead.
Kerney spent a few minutes alone with Luciano Salgado, who had retired as a SFPD patrol sergeant six years ago to accept an appointment as chief deputy for the S.O, and was now serving his first term as the duly elected sheriff. Luciano asked if he could continue to use Kerney’s detectives throughout the day. He wanted Ramona Pino to work with his major crimes unit supervisor on an evidence search of the stable and the P.D. detectives to assist in a follow-up neighborhood canvass of all residents.
Kerney readily agreed and passed on the assignments to Sergeant Pino. Back at his unit he called Sara on his cell phone.
“I didn’t wake you up, did I?” he asked.
“Patrick did that a half hour ago,” Sara replied, sounding perfectly normal. “We’ve had our breakfast and now he’s petitioning me to go horseback riding.”
“Are you feeling up to it?”
“I am. Have you found Helen’s missing sister?”
“Not yet. But we have learned that the woman’s husband, a police officer, was murdered last night in Lincoln County.”
“Does that mean you won’t be home anytime soon?”
“No,” Kerney replied. “This case is not under my jurisdiction. I’ve given the sheriff’s department all the help they’ve asked for and done as much for Helen Muiz as I can at this point. I don’t need to stay here watching other people work.”
“Too many chiefs?” Sara asked.
“Something like that. I’ll be home soon.”
Kerney disconnected and went to find Ramona Pino to tell her he’d be leaving. He found her in the tack room at the stables with Don Mielke, the major crimes unit supervisor for the sheriff’s department.
“Don’t come in, Chief,” Ramona said when Kerney appeared in the doorway.
Kerney looked around. An upended saddle was on the hard-packed dirt floor, some of the halters and bridles lay in a heap under the wall hooks, and there were scuff marks in the dirt that looked as if something had been dragged out into the corral, where the two horses whinnied and snorted for their morning oats.
“Any hard evidence of a struggle?” Kerney asked.
“Not yet,” Mielke replied.
Beyond the corral, next to a horse trailer, a medium-size black-and-white mutt with a long coat joined the chorus. “Do you know if the Rileys had a dog?” Kerney asked.
“There was a picture in the house of Riley’s wife kneeling next to a dog,” Ramona said.
Kerney pointed at the mutt who had taken up a position at the back of the trailer. “That dog?”
“Maybe,” Ramona said.
“Has it been here all night?”
“I didn’t see or hear it earlier,” Ramona replied.
“Has anyone checked that horse trailer?” Kerney asked.
“Not that I know of,” Mielke replied.
“Let’s do it,” Kerney said, stepping off in the direction of the trailer.
The barking dog fell silent and backed off when Kerney approached, but it stayed nearby, watchful, and seemed unwilling to scamper away. The trailer, built to haul two horses, was padlocked. Kerney turned to Mielke and asked him to find some bolt cutters. Ramona Pino dropped down on one knee and looked back at the stables and corral. Although it was impossible to tell for sure, what seemed to be drag marks in the dirt ran from the tack room to the horse trailer. She pointed them out to
Kerney spent a few minutes alone with Luciano Salgado, who had retired as a SFPD patrol sergeant six years ago to accept an appointment as chief deputy for the S.O, and was now serving his first term as the duly elected sheriff. Luciano asked if he could continue to use Kerney’s detectives throughout the day. He wanted Ramona Pino to work with his major crimes unit supervisor on an evidence search of the stable and the P.D. detectives to assist in a follow-up neighborhood canvass of all residents.
Kerney readily agreed and passed on the assignments to Sergeant Pino. Back at his unit he called Sara on his cell phone.
“I didn’t wake you up, did I?” he asked.
“Patrick did that a half hour ago,” Sara replied, sounding perfectly normal. “We’ve had our breakfast and now he’s petitioning me to go horseback riding.”
“Are you feeling up to it?”
“I am. Have you found Helen’s missing sister?”
“Not yet. But we have learned that the woman’s husband, a police officer, was murdered last night in Lincoln County.”
“Does that mean you won’t be home anytime soon?”
“No,” Kerney replied. “This case is not under my jurisdiction. I’ve given the sheriff’s department all the help they’ve asked for and done as much for Helen Muiz as I can at this point. I don’t need to stay here watching other people work.”
“Too many chiefs?” Sara asked.
“Something like that. I’ll be home soon.”
Kerney disconnected and went to find Ramona Pino to tell her he’d be leaving. He found her in the tack room at the stables with Don Mielke, the major crimes unit supervisor for the sheriff’s department.
“Don’t come in, Chief,” Ramona said when Kerney appeared in the doorway.
Kerney looked around. An upended saddle was on the hard-packed dirt floor, some of the halters and bridles lay in a heap under the wall hooks, and there were scuff marks in the dirt that looked as if something had been dragged out into the corral, where the two horses whinnied and snorted for their morning oats.
“Any hard evidence of a struggle?” Kerney asked.
“Not yet,” Mielke replied.
Beyond the corral, next to a horse trailer, a medium-size black-and-white mutt with a long coat joined the chorus. “Do you know if the Rileys had a dog?” Kerney asked.
“There was a picture in the house of Riley’s wife kneeling next to a dog,” Ramona said.
Kerney pointed at the mutt who had taken up a position at the back of the trailer. “That dog?”
“Maybe,” Ramona said.
“Has it been here all night?”
“I didn’t see or hear it earlier,” Ramona replied.
“Has anyone checked that horse trailer?” Kerney asked.
“Not that I know of,” Mielke replied.
“Let’s do it,” Kerney said, stepping off in the direction of the trailer.
The barking dog fell silent and backed off when Kerney approached, but it stayed nearby, watchful, and seemed unwilling to scamper away. The trailer, built to haul two horses, was padlocked. Kerney turned to Mielke and asked him to find some bolt cutters. Ramona Pino dropped down on one knee and looked back at the stables and corral. Although it was impossible to tell for sure, what seemed to be drag marks in the dirt ran from the tack room to the horse trailer. She pointed them out to
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