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his head. “I won’t let you borrow against your land on my account. It’s too risky.”
    â€œYou’re one stubborn son of a bitch.”
    â€œI know it.”
    â€œWell, think about it. It might work.”
    â€œI didn’t know being land rich could be so damn frustrating.”
    â€œIf you want to ranch, you’re going to have to use somebody else’s money to do it.”
    â€œI guess that’s true. Hold off until I know what the taxes will be. Okay?”
    â€œOkay.”
    â€œDid Barbara bake the pie?”
    â€œShe did, and sent it along with her love.”
    â€œSave your steak bone for Shoe,” Kerney said.
    â€œIt’s already got his name on it.”
    The dog, still tied to the bumper, flapped his tail, drooled, and kept his eyes fixed on the two men.
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    In the morning, it was Kerney’s turn to cook. At first light, he fixed enough chow to insure leftovers for the dog. After cleaning up the dishes, he fed Shoe, put on the makeshift collar and leash, and took him for a walk.
    Dale laughed as Kerney led the dog away. Shoe seemed perfectly content to be on a leash, and after sniffing around for the right spot, he did his business. Thedog still limped. Kerney hoped that some weight gain and exercise would correct the problem.
    Sergeant Gonzales arrived in a four-wheel drive pulling a horse trailer, followed by a Game and Fish truck, with another trailer, and several patrol units. Kerney questioned him about the crime scene search, and Gabe reported that nothing more had been found. Gonzales, his team, and the Game and Fish officer were all dressed in riding gear.
    â€œHave the techs work the site one more time,” Kerney said.
    â€œThey’re on the way,” Gonzales said. “We’ll cover the mesa on horseback. If anything else is there, we’ll turn it up.”
    Kerney saw Gonzales and his team off, tied Shoe to the bumper of the trailer, borrowed Dale’s truck, and promised to return in a hour. He wanted to pay a friendly visit to Nestor Barela and see what kind of neighbor he had inherited.
    The ranch road leading to Barela’s place was an expensive piece of work. Graded, crowned, and topped with packed base course, it was far superior to the poorly maintained county road. The headquarters sat in a horseshoe canyon about a hundred acres deep and half as wide. From the last cattle guard into the headquarters, the road was asphalt.
    Kerney stopped before he crossed the cattle guard and looked the place over. The most prominent building was an indoor arena near a large horse barn. Expensive white pipe fences enclosed cooldown areas, exercise rings, show jumping gates, and corrals. Two smalleroutbuildings, a hay shed, and a loading pen were sheltered at the side of the canyon.
    Across a pasture, tucked on the other side of the canyon, was an adobe house with a half-story attic framed with battens, a pitched roof, and a row of cottonwoods along the windward side. Laundry flapped on a clothesline steps away from a side porch.
    The main residence dominated high ground at the back of the canyon where the winds would swirl and bluster. It was enormous, and obviously positioned for the view rather than for protection from the elements. Built in a symmetrical H with pitched roofs, the house had a deep veranda running across the core of the structure that connected the two lateral sides. A chimney protruded in the center of each distinct roof line. A low wall with white-picket gates confined some shade trees at the front of the house. A free-standing three-car garage built in the same style stood below and to one side of the residence.
    All in all, it looked like Barela had sold the place to somebody with a hell of a lot of money, who had converted the cattle operation into a horse ranch.
    Erma’s lawyer and executor, Milton Lynch, who lived in the southern part of the state, had only been able to