Death Song Read Online Free Page A

at it. Do you need some privacy?”
    Tim shook his head, dialed the number, got a busy signal, and hung up. “No luck,” he said. He finished his coffee, got to his feet, and shrugged. “It can wait. I’ll see her tomorrow when I get back to Santa Fe. Thanks for the coffee, Chief.”
    “The pot is always on. Next time you stop by I’ll fill you in on some of the local Capitan characters you need to know about.”
    “I’ll look forward to that,” Riley replied as he headed out the door.
    Bolt waited until he heard Riley drive away before dialing Paul Hewitt’s cell phone number. “Where are you?” he asked after Hewitt answered.
    “Sitting in my truck watching my new deputy drive out of town. So far, he’s doing okay. Goes where he says, does what he says, isn’t slacking off. Now that you’ve had a sit-down with him, what do you think?”
    “I think he’s a good one,” Bolt said. “Are we still on for breakfast in the morning?”
    “You bet,” Hewitt replied.
    “You going home now?”
    “You bet,” Hewitt said again.
    “Me too.” Bolt hung up, turned out the lights, locked the door, and went home.
     
     
     
    In a troubled frame of mind, Deputy Tim Riley resumed patrol. He decided that something was wrong in Santa Fe. Denise should be calling him by now, wanting to know why he was late getting home. A few miles outside of Carrizozo he pulled off to the side of the highway, called the dispatcher, gave her his Santa Fe home phone number, and asked her to contact the phone company and have them check the number. Within minutes, the dispatcher reported that the phone was off the hook at Tim’s Santa Fe residence.
    “Okay,” Riley said with a sense of relief, “that explains it. Thanks.”
    “Do you want me to ask the state police to send a uniform to check on her?” the dispatcher asked.
    “Negative,” Tim said. “Thanks anyway.” He dropped the microphone on the seat and dialed his sister-in-law’s number on his cell phone. When Helen answered, he explained the situation.
    “She probably didn’t hang up the phone properly,” Helen said.
    “I know,” Tim replied. “But I’d feel better about it if you went out and checked on her.”
    “Of course.”
    “Have her call me right away.”
    “I will. She’s going to be upset that she worried you unnecessarily.”
    “Tell her not to be. Thanks, Helen.”
    Tim disconnected and listened to incoming traffic on his radio. A Carrizozo police officer was en route to a fight in the parking lot of a local bar. Riley turned on his emergency lights, put his unit in gear, accelerated, and alerted the officer that he was on his way to assist.
     
     
     
    In the eastside Santa Fe home her grandfather had built eighty years ago, now surrounded by millionaires’ mansions, Helen Muiz found her husband sleeping in his favorite chair in the den with the television turned down low. She shook him awake and told him to put on his shoes and drive her to Cañoncito right away.
    “What’s the problem?” Ruben asked grouchily as he laced up his shoes.
    “Probably nothing,” Helen replied. “But Tim’s worried because he can’t reach Denise, and the phone company says it’s because the phone is off the hook.”
    Ruben shook his head. “It’s pretty late in the evening to go joyriding out to Cañoncito and back.”
    “Don’t be such a grump, Ruben. You’re retired, remember? So it’s not like you have to get up in the morning and go to work. Besides, she’s my baby sister and I’m worried about her.”
    Ruben knew better than to argue with Helen about her five sisters and one brother, all younger than she was. She was about to turn sixty and had been mother hen to all of them since their parents had died. Denise, the youngest by twenty-one years, was her favorite.
    He went to the hall closest, got his jacket, put it on, and held out Helen’s coat. She slipped her arms into the sleeves, turned around, and kissed him on the cheek. “I wish she