also standard issue: a desk, several chairs, a file cabinet, a desktop computer, and the usual personal and cop memorabilia displayed on the bookshelf and the walls. Kerney spent his time waiting reading a back issue of the FBI Law Enforcement Bulletin that featured a cover article on criminal confessions. Through the window he could see the sky darkening into dusk. He was almost through the article when a burly man with a day-old beard and a broad face stepped into the open doorway.
“So Clifford Spalding is dead,” the man said with a rueful smile. “God help me. Now I’ll never get his ex-wife off my back.” He offered his hand. “Dick Chase.”
Kerney set the bulletin aside, stood, grasped Chase’s hand, and introduced himself.
“So, is this a homicide?” Chase asked as he settled into the chair behind his desk.
“Possibly,” Kerney said, “possibly not.”
Chase grunted. “That clarifies things. What brings you into it?”
Kerney decided to level with Chase. “For now, it appears that I’m a person of interest to the investigation.”
“You’re a suspect?” Chase asked as he gave Kerney a hard, sideways look.
“Not yet,” Kerney replied. “I’m trying to extricate myself from that possibility.”
Chase leaned back in his chair, his tight smile showing no teeth. “You’d better lay it all out for me.”
Kerney told Chase about his reasons for coming to California and his early morning discovery of Spalding’s body at the ranch. He emphasized that Claudia Spalding had been in the company of a man on a remote, high country trail-riding trip when notified of her husband’s death, and finished up by summarizing the conversations he’d had with Alice Spalding and Penelope Parker. He deliberately skipped over his visit to the Spalding estate.
He put Sergeant Lowrey’s business card on the desk. “That’s the San Luis Obispo sheriff’s deputy who’s handling the inquiry,” he said. “Give her a call, Captain, and get her side of the story.”
Chase nodded. “Wait out in the bullpen, and give me a few minutes.”
Chase closed the door behind Kerney and spent a good ten minutes on the phone with Lowrey. When he reappeared he didn’t look too happy. He motioned for Kerney to enter.
Kerney’s cell phone rang as he sat.
“It’s Sergeant Pino, Chief,” Ramona said when he answered.
“What have you learned about Kim Dean?” he asked.
“He’s a divorced father of two. The ex-wife and kids reside in Colorado. He’s a pharmacist and the owner of one of those franchise pharmacies. He’s got a house in Canada de los Alamos and keeps a couple of horses. The neighbors say Claudia Spalding’s vehicle is frequently parked at his house overnight.”
“Find and talk to a friend of Claudia Spalding’s named Nina Deacon,” Kerney said. “She lives in Spalding’s area. Learn what you can from her about Dean’s relationship to Spalding.”
“Will do. Anything else, Chief?”
“Who’s working with you?”
“Russell Thorpe.”
Thorpe was a young, capable state police officer Kerney knew personally through his involvement in several major felony cases.
“Good. Check your facts carefully,” he said, hoping Ramona and Thorpe would get the hint and sit on what they’d learned for a little while.
“Will waiting thirty minutes before we pass on the information do?” Ramona asked.
“Perfect,” Kerney said, then disconnected and looked at Chase. “Well?” he asked. “What did Sergeant Lowrey have to say?”
“You’ve pissed her off, big-time,” Chase said flatly, “and frankly, I’m feeling that you’ve put me in an awkward situation. I don’t know whether to hold you for questioning or let you walk.”
“I’m not going anywhere for a while,” Kerney said. He gave Chase the name of the motel where he’d rented a room. “What did Lowrey tell you?”
Chase ran his hand over the stubble on his chin. “You know the drill: no details or information gets
“So Clifford Spalding is dead,” the man said with a rueful smile. “God help me. Now I’ll never get his ex-wife off my back.” He offered his hand. “Dick Chase.”
Kerney set the bulletin aside, stood, grasped Chase’s hand, and introduced himself.
“So, is this a homicide?” Chase asked as he settled into the chair behind his desk.
“Possibly,” Kerney said, “possibly not.”
Chase grunted. “That clarifies things. What brings you into it?”
Kerney decided to level with Chase. “For now, it appears that I’m a person of interest to the investigation.”
“You’re a suspect?” Chase asked as he gave Kerney a hard, sideways look.
“Not yet,” Kerney replied. “I’m trying to extricate myself from that possibility.”
Chase leaned back in his chair, his tight smile showing no teeth. “You’d better lay it all out for me.”
Kerney told Chase about his reasons for coming to California and his early morning discovery of Spalding’s body at the ranch. He emphasized that Claudia Spalding had been in the company of a man on a remote, high country trail-riding trip when notified of her husband’s death, and finished up by summarizing the conversations he’d had with Alice Spalding and Penelope Parker. He deliberately skipped over his visit to the Spalding estate.
He put Sergeant Lowrey’s business card on the desk. “That’s the San Luis Obispo sheriff’s deputy who’s handling the inquiry,” he said. “Give her a call, Captain, and get her side of the story.”
Chase nodded. “Wait out in the bullpen, and give me a few minutes.”
Chase closed the door behind Kerney and spent a good ten minutes on the phone with Lowrey. When he reappeared he didn’t look too happy. He motioned for Kerney to enter.
Kerney’s cell phone rang as he sat.
“It’s Sergeant Pino, Chief,” Ramona said when he answered.
“What have you learned about Kim Dean?” he asked.
“He’s a divorced father of two. The ex-wife and kids reside in Colorado. He’s a pharmacist and the owner of one of those franchise pharmacies. He’s got a house in Canada de los Alamos and keeps a couple of horses. The neighbors say Claudia Spalding’s vehicle is frequently parked at his house overnight.”
“Find and talk to a friend of Claudia Spalding’s named Nina Deacon,” Kerney said. “She lives in Spalding’s area. Learn what you can from her about Dean’s relationship to Spalding.”
“Will do. Anything else, Chief?”
“Who’s working with you?”
“Russell Thorpe.”
Thorpe was a young, capable state police officer Kerney knew personally through his involvement in several major felony cases.
“Good. Check your facts carefully,” he said, hoping Ramona and Thorpe would get the hint and sit on what they’d learned for a little while.
“Will waiting thirty minutes before we pass on the information do?” Ramona asked.
“Perfect,” Kerney said, then disconnected and looked at Chase. “Well?” he asked. “What did Sergeant Lowrey have to say?”
“You’ve pissed her off, big-time,” Chase said flatly, “and frankly, I’m feeling that you’ve put me in an awkward situation. I don’t know whether to hold you for questioning or let you walk.”
“I’m not going anywhere for a while,” Kerney said. He gave Chase the name of the motel where he’d rented a room. “What did Lowrey tell you?”
Chase ran his hand over the stubble on his chin. “You know the drill: no details or information gets
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