“I’ve met the officer, and Sergeant Hill’s reputation precedes her.” Lee shrugged. “Sounds like a good choice for a job like this.”

  Captain Terry frowned, apparently expecting a different reaction. But Lee had always been concerned with results, not gossip or department politics, and if Thor was cutting it among the good ole boy network of the state police, she had to have something going for her.

  “Read the file on Glover we’ve begun, take a look at the preliminary plans laid out for the operation, then write out a tentative cover story and try to nail down a strategy to get next to Glover, one way or the other. If you prefer, once you’re done with the paperwork here and have the chance to access any databases and records that exist on the guy, you can finish up at home. Thor … Sergeant Hill, that is, is taking part in a drug sweep in the Deming–Lordsburg area. I’ve given her captain a call, and he’s going to have Hill fly up to work out the details together in my office. Plan on tomorrow morning, or a little after lunch, depending on the paperwork generated down in Deming.”

  Captain Terry nodded toward the open door leading into a second, even smaller office. “Use the terminal and desk in my workroom. I’ve already got your shift covered. I’ll be around a while longer, but unless something major comes up, I’m leaving at six.”

  Lee worked for several hours, reading the factually sketchy report on Glover first. If the lowlife was guilty of just a few of the illegal activities he was suspected of carrying out, Glover was a real predator. It also became clear that many in the community were cowed, doing what they could to avoid contact with the man rather than going to authorities that couldn’t be depended upon.

  At one point, a rumor had gone through the community, even reaching the sheriff’s department, that Glover had been killed. His absence for several days seemed to support that notion. But Glover had reappeared just as mysteriously, his absence never explained.

  Stories spread that Glover had come back from the dead, or was invincible—a notion that Glover picked up on and fostered. Then attention shifted to his next-door neighbor, a man found dead—mutilated with a knife—in the parking lot outside an East Mountain-area bar. The crime had been brutal, but no witnesses came forward and no arrests were ever made. Glover had been questioned, along with other residents, but the case was shelved. The widow moved away shortly afterward.

  Lee didn’t believe in coincidences like this, but he did know, from personal experience, that there were people around who were very hard to kill. It just gave him one more reason to focus on Glover. He read the details of the undercover operation that had been developed, noting areas where more information or resources were needed, listing potential problems and solutions, and coming up with a cover story. He planned to set himself up as an ex-con jewelry maker working and selling out of his home, dealing in cash, and basically avoiding the legal niceties of business licenses, gross receipts taxes, and all the rest. Many people conducted business in a shadow economy, avoiding taxes, fees, and so on, particularly in the poorer areas of the state. He had no worries about being reported.

  The appearance that he was a former criminal still breaking the law might earn him some respect, and maybe even give him an opening, when confronting Newt Glover. It was useless to plan much further ahead than that, because seat-of-the-pants operations like this had to be constantly modified and adjusted, depending on events, contacts, and relationships that developed.

  Lee also knew that if Linda Hill was going to be his partner, she’d have her own skills, ideas, and suggestions to work into the overall plan. What he was doing now was creating a framework. What they ended up with depended a lot on tomorrow’s meetings and Hill’s input.

  Lee finally decided to go to his apartment, make a list of items he’d need to establish his cover, then grab a few extra hours of sleep. Tomorrow he’d be working the day shift, normally sack time, and though he rarely got tired, after several days fatigue would eventually set in.

  Once he set up a domestic situation with Linda Hill, they’d probably sleep in shifts, with him out and about mostly at night, a natural use of his special abilities. Somehow he’d have to get that notion past his partner without creating a problem or letting her think he was some nut who was allergic to sunlight.

  Lee picked up his paperwork, grabbed his cap, then walked through Captain Terry’s empty office into the front, where Gail was seated behind the counter, reading a paperback novel. Dispatch work was often like that, late at night on weekdays, when no calls could come through for an hour, then four or five all at once.

  “Officer Hawk. We’ve got an Amber alert.” She handed him a sheet of paper with a photo of a small boy, a name, and a description.

  Lee read the paper automatically, and his eyes stopped when he noticed that the missing boy, Timothy Klein, ten years old, had failed to return home after a visit with his mother, who lived in Edgewood, just inside Santa Fe County but close to the Torrance and Bernalillo County lines—the same general East Mountain area where he was about to set up shop.

  According to the brief summary, both parents, divorced and in the midst of a big legal fight over their successful joint-business interests, believed that Timothy was with the other parent, so neither noticed until the weekend had ended and the child didn’t report to school. Witnesses remembered seeing a child getting into a car or van in the area where the boy was seen last, but no details were available at the moment.

  “Can you believe it? Parents don’t even notice their ten-year-old kid is gone for two days? He could be across the country by now. Some pervert on I-Forty probably spotted him beside the road and offered him a ride home.” Gail sat back in her chair, stretched, then finally stood.

  “With deputies and search teams from three counties out there looking, hopefully more information will turn up. These Amber alerts are working. Maybe we’ll get lucky on this one,” Lee said, looking intently at the photograph, then placing it in his notebook. Chances were the East Mountains were going to be swarming with search teams looking for Timothy Klein for the next few days. He and Sergeant Hill could move in probably without notice, and it would be a good excuse to start making contacts and asking questions.

  If the kid had been kidnapped and didn’t just get lost, maybe it was someone from the area who’d been stalking the boy. Kids who were taken by child molesters were usually watched and targeted rather than the victims of random activity, though the latter couldn’t be ruled out. But two days was a long time for a child molester to keep their victim alive, once they were done with them. Ransom was always a possibility, especially if the parents were well off, as they appeared to be, at least financially.

  Lee said good night, then walked outside to his department cruiser, thinking about the lowlife, Glover, and the missing child. These were the kind of crimes that made him want to revert to good old-fashioned vigilante justice—the kind he could mete out. He took several deep breaths. Logic and clear thinking. That’s what he needed now. If Glover happened to know the boy, or either of the parents, maybe the kid had become a pawn … a way of gaining power or punishing someone Glover didn’t like. It was a long shot, but Glover was a known problem already.

  Lee actually hoped that Glover was involved, not because he was obviously ruthless and amoral, but because it would mean that there was only one sicko out there in the East Mountains communities—not two.

  CHAPTER 3

  His cell phone rang at 7:00 in the morning. Lee had been awake since 5:00 and was dressed, protected with sunblock, and ready to go. The caller ID was blocked, so he suspected it was from the department.

  “Officer Hawk,” he said curtly.

  “Lee, it’s me, Diane, and it’s business. Can you pick me up at the airport in fifteen minutes? I’m on the way now, New Mexico Air.”

  “You’re coming to Farmington?”

  “Yeah, the Amber alert. You heard about it, right?”

  “The missing boy, Timothy Klein. The Bureau was called in?”

  “Not publicly. Your captain got a genius idea, apparently late last night, and gave SAC Logan a call. Logan is happy because it’s going to get me out of his hair during the politically touchy days ahead. The senator who shall not be named is connected to certain bills under consideration that could give the Bureau some important funding increases.”

  “Here’s where we’re required not to bite the hand that feeds us. It figures. So that means you’ve been assigned to the undercover operation I’m heading into?” Lee asked.

  “Yeah. I’m going to partner with you on this—unless you prefer blondes?”

  There was a pause. “Read my mind,” Lee said, not believing his good luck. “What’s your ETA?”

  “Seven forty-five.”

  “See you then.”

  Southeast of Albuquerque, in the eastern foothills beside the Manzano Mountains, Lee slowed, turning to his right off State Road 337 onto a graveled lane called Quail Run. Beside the road was one of those multiple-box postal units, a metal structure with twelve locked containers.

  “The double-wide is another half mile, according to the map the Realtor gave us. West end of Quail Run, last one on the left,” Diane commented.

  “Lucky the Realtor was able to cut a deal with the family already scheduled to move in and get them to accept a better deal closer to the city. Of course having the request come from the local FBI office didn’t hurt,” Lee observed dryly.

  “At least we’re at the edge of the forest and it’s not as flat as I expected,” Diane said, noting the pines and junipers along the sloped terrain punctuated by currently dry arroyos.

  “Never been off the highway here at all, but it reminds me of the foothills west of Shiprock, where I grew up. From the extra green and thicker vegetation, they get more moisture here, though,” Lee added. “Lots of wild grasses for the rabbits, too.”

  “Dark as a well to me, this side of the Manzanos without the city lights. But at least we’ll have some cover when we start roaming around at night.”

  Lee slowed the vehicle nearly to a crawl, then stopped as a coyote walked out into the road. The scrawny animal paused in the glare of the headlights and watched them for a moment, then strolled off nonchalantly.

  “Coyote, right?” Diane asked. “Not somebody’s pet?”

  “I’ve heard that residents in this county, especially farther north, have a lot of problems with dogs attacking their livestock. Some are feral, the others just allowed to roam by owners who probably ignore their children, as well. But this was a coyote. Looked relatively well fed, for a coyote.”

  Lee didn’t have much problem keeping to the road; it was almost perfectly straight here and since there was no traffic, he was able to check out the mostly mobile homes they passed on either side. Some were well maintained, with small permanent additions built alongside, but a few were overgrown with brush and littered with old appliances, scrap building materials and trash piles, and the frequent junker pickups or car. One of the homes had a nice-looking motorcycle parked outside, a good idea considering the distances to work from here.

  Horses and a few goats were in pens. One resident had an old truck trailer with four flat tires showing that appeared to contain bales of hay. Weeds growing in a corral suggested he’d lost his animals before running out of alfalfa.

  “People in this development obviously don’t have that much,” Diane observed offhandedly. “Having someone like Glover lord over them just makes it even worse. Made it hard for the real-estate people to get tenants to rent that close to him, too, despite lowering their rates. Word gets around.”

  “We’ll nail the bastard. From the reports, he sounds like one sick puppy,” Lee reminded.

  “Sick enough to kidnap a ten-year-old boy?”

  Lee shrugged. “According to the parents, they’ve heard about Glover, though they’ve never had any run-ins with him that they could remember. The disappearance may be unrelated. We can’t interview them ourselves, though, not without jeopardizing our cover.”

  “Soldiers with Glover’s supposed training are used to taking prisoners, so he’d have the skills to snatch a young boy. If he’s taken up kidnapping for profit, we need to move fast and get close to the guy. I still vote for getting under his skin by making him an enemy. Befriending somebody like that will be hard on my conscience,” Diane said. “And he’s pretty much a loner, with reluctant allies, according to the judge’s observations.”

  “Either way, avoid being around him alone,” Lee said. “He’s always hitting on women, and he likes to play rough, according to what the informant said. You’re going to be giving him ideas the moment he lays eyes on you. No way anyone’s going to believe you could be an FBI agent looking like that.”

  Diane had dyed her hair a startling shade of copper, put on pounds of makeup, and wore a halter top and tight jeans. If it wasn’t for her baggy leather jacket, there’d be no place to conceal a weapon.

  “Unfortunately, we need to get his attention. That’s part of the piss-him-off plan. Give him a reason to tee off on us right away by showing him something he can’t have. And if he’s the coveting type, he’ll also go for this shiny new SUV. He’s got a rep for vandalizing what others seem to value most. Suppose he’ll be up tonight, watching us move in?”

  “I hope so. Maybe I can find a way to annoy him tonight,” Lee said.

  “If anyone can …”

  “What do you mean by that, girlfriend?” Lee smiled. “I’m really an easy-going guy.”

  “With a devious streak and unlimited imagination. You’ll find a way.”

  “Just be careful, Diane. You read the reports. One of his neighbors was knifed outside a bar—mutilated. My instincts tell me Glover was involved. Who knows, maybe the guy just pissed Glover off, or Glover was using him as an example to keep the locals in line. This guy is big, rough—a schoolyard bully grown up.”

  “I also read the rumor about him being killed, then showing up a few days later, apparently unharmed. Could he be a vampire?”

  “We’ll know once we see him—or don’t—in sunlight. If he never takes off his shades, covers himself up, or reeks of sunblock … .”

  Diane nodded. “Or can bend steel with his bare hands. Kinda like you. At least we’ll know what to look for. But if he’s a vampire we’re going to have to turn him into ashes. He’d be too dangerous to put in jail.”

  “Vampire or not, Glover needs to be taken down now. I just hope he doesn’t have anything to do with that missing child. You suppose this particular incident will put some backbone into the people around here?”

  “With us around, they’ll have someone to back them up for a change,” Diane said. “That’s our place ahead. The lit-up yard on the right must be Glover’s.”

  They pulled up in the loaded SUV, containing suitcases with security cameras and a laptop, clothes, kitchenware, some household supplies, and Lee’s silver jewelry-making tools. Using a flashlight, they climbed up the steps and Diane unlocked the door. She stepped inside with Lee for a look around.

  “Smells like pine cleanser, and looks clean enough,” Lee commented, reaching for the light switch on the wall and turning on the porch light, as well. The big room in front of him was a left-facing L, with the top of the L the dining area, complete with wooden table and four chairs, and the area he was in served as the living room. There was a sofa, chairs, built-in cabinets, and drawers—the usual. Double doors to his right led to a small study, and to the left, according to the Realtor, the master bedroom. The far left of the room held counters and a breakfast bar, behind the counter and cupboards was the small kitchen.

  They walked across the room to check it out. The smaller-scale appliances looked to be in good shape, and the propane was supposed to be hooked up. He turned on a burner of the stove and it lit up immediately. Diane turned on the hot-water tap at the double sink. The water came out clean and steady, and warmed up quickly. She turned off the tap.

  “Guess the well works,” she announced. “And the hot-water heater, too. Your department did a good job setting this up with the Realtor. Now we can focus on the job without having to worry about logistics.”

  “Speaking of which … I’ll start bringing in our stuff … dear. Or should I call you ‘honey’ for this operation?”

  “Yuck. Do that and I’ll call you Big Balls.”

  “Never mind. Diane it is.” Lee chuckled, then stepped to the door. “Lights just went out next door,” he announced.

  Lee started bringing in the suitcases and boxes, every once in a while glancing over at the mobile home a hundred yards away across the gravel road. A man was moving around in the darkened room, and on his fifth trip to the SUV, Lee’s superior vision viewed a small telescope on a tripod. Glover was curious.

  “Glover’s set up a telescope,” Lee said as he came inside with two more suitcases.

  Diane came around the corner from a small hall that led to the second bedroom to the right past the study. “Sure it’s not some kind of directional mike?”

  “Naw. He’d need to have his window open, maybe one on our side, too. Besides, I can see the gleam of the optics.”

  “Remind me to keep the curtains drawn and stay away from the windows.”

  Lee carried the suitcases into the master bedroom to the left. They’d be sleeping in the same bed, of course, to protect their cover as a couple. No wedding rings, because they were just “living together.” As he set the suitcases down beside the bed, which had linens already because they were renting a furnished home, he came up with an idea.

  “I’ve thought of a way to annoy Glover.”

  “What you gonna do?”

  “Blind him.”

  Lee went back outside, started up the SUV, then drove forward out of the circular driveway until the headlights were aimed across the street and right into Glover’s living room window. Lee hit the brights, and saw the man jump back from the telescope, shielding his eyes from the glare. Next, Lee turned on the spotlight beside the outside mirror, and aimed it at the telescope, too.