"I remember," she said.

"Of course."

She was silent. I waited.

"Mary Lou," she said. "Mary Lou Buckman."

"I see," I said, just like I didn't know. "And, I'm sorry to be so indelicate. But I have to ask. Was his covetousness, ah, fulfilled?"

"You mean was he shacking up with her? Yes."

"You're sure?"

"Of course, I'm sure. That's why I divorced the bastard."

"And I certainly don't blame you," I said. Sincere as a siding salesman. "Do you know where Ms. Buckman is now?"

"Sure. She's out there in Potshot. The dumb bastard followed her out there."

"Are they together?" I said.

She was warm on the subject now and I didn't have to be so delicate. Pretty soon I'd have trouble getting her to shut up.

"Together? No. Of course not. She's married and with her husband. My stupid husband just followed her out there, in case she decided to cheat on her husband again."

"And if she didn't?"

"He could just moon around her, like a big fruit fly. Men are idiots."

"True," I said. "That's so true."

"Her husband even threatened Dean, once, told him to stay away from his wife."

"How did your husband react?"

"Oh he's a policeman, thinks he's a tough guy, like they all do. I think they're a bunch of babies."

"Did they actually have a fight or anything?"

"Not while I was around."

"Did either of them threaten to kill the other?"

"Kill? Oh God no, it wasn't like that. I never said anything about killing. Why are you talking about killing?"

"Just routine, m'am."

"Is Dean all right?" she said.

"He's fine, m'am. Fine."

"Well, is that all? I've got a lot of things waiting for me."

"Yes, m'am. Thank you for your time."

She hung up without saying "you're welcome." Since I was on a hot streak I called the Department of Water and Power in L.A. and talked with a guy in the personnel department.

"I'm interviewing a Mary Lou Buckman," I said, "for a job. Her resume says she worked for you. Could you verify that for me?"

"Did she say what section?"

"No."

"Give me a minute," he said.

It was more like ten, but finally he came back on the line.

"I hate computers," he said.

"Any decent person would," I said. "Did you locate Mary Lou Buckman?"

"Yes. She was employed with us from 1986 until 1991."

"In what capacity?"

"Resource development."

"Which means?"

"She was a geologist. She looked for new sources of water."

Chapter 42

HAWK AND I were looking at the guns laid out in the dining room, where Vinnie had affectionately arranged them. There were two AR- 15s, three pump-action shotguns, a Winchester.45 carbine, a Heckler Koch with a 20-round magazine, a Jaeger Hunter with a scope, a.44 Rugar bush gun, and a BAR.

"Who owns the BAR?" I said.

"Bobby Horse," Vinnie said.

"Bonnie and Clyde used those," Hawk said.

"Don't know nothing about Bonnie and Whosis," Vinnie said.

There were extra handguns on the sideboard: a Walther P38, two Brownings, a Glock 17, and three Smith Wesson.357 revolvers. The ammunition for each weapon was stacked beside it. Most of the guns were stainless steel and they gleamed happily in their orderly arrangement. The ammunition boxes were mostly green, or red, depending on who made them. The room looked sort of festive.

"Who brought lever action?" Vinnie said.

"Me," I said. "A sentimental favorite."

Vinnie shook his head and went on wiping.

On the floor in front of a side window two pieces of duct tape formed a large X.

"Firing position?" I said.

"Yeah," Vinnie said. "Got five positions marked. Give us a field of fire cover the whole house. Got some other positions located up in the hills, case we want to bail out of here, cover any approach."

I nodded.

"How come you got that Winchester?" Vinnie said.

"Sentimental," I said. "I had it in Laramie. My uncle bought it for me."

"You only got five shots in the sucker, and you got to jack each one up before you shoot."

"I'm not big for volume," I said. "I'm a careful shooter."

"Well I hope you ain't feeding shells into that thing while one of the Dell monsters comes at you with a Tec-nine."

"Me too," I said.

"What are you packing for a handgun?" Vinnie said.

I pulled my T-shirt up to show him the gun on my belt.

"Same thing," Vinnie said. "Two-inch barrel, five rounds in the cylinder."

"Sometimes I carry that Browning," I said.

"You should," Vinnie said. "You can't hit a whale in the ass with that little Smith Wesson, unless you're right up on him."

"I plan to be right up," I said.

Vinnie shrugged.

I was beginning to feel defensive.

"I like it," I said. "It'll knock you down if you're close. It's light to carry, easy to conceal, and it works good. I can carry it in an ankle holster if I need to."

Vinnie nodded again. With a small camel-hair brush, he was dusting the rear sight of the BAR.

"Besides," I said, "it's cute."

"Yeah, sure," Vinnie said. "And it matches your, tie. Swell."

Vinnie's full attention went back to tending the guns. He was like a bitch grooming a puppy.

"Bobby Horse waiting on us," Hawk said, "to go look at the Dell."

"Chollo's not going?"

"Chollo says he already been there."

"Doesn't want to make the climb again," I said.

Hawk nodded. We were quiet for a time watching Vinnie fuss over the weapons.

"There's a lot going on here that we don't know about," I said.

"We used to that," Hawk said.

"And the damn woman is at the center of it."

"We sort of used to that too, ain't we?"

"Yeah but she's also our employer."

"She your employer, Bobo. You're my employer."

"You're such a stickler," I said.

"Chain of command, boss."

Vinnie had the cylinder open on one of the.357s and was studying it, using his thumbnail to reflect light into the barrel. Then he nodded to himself and gently closed the cylinder.

"Vinnie should have been a father," Hawk said.

We watched Vinnie for a minute.

"Something bothering me," Hawk said.

"Only something?"

"Mary Lou and her hubby come out here on their summers off and run this little horseback gig," Hawk said.

"Until he got fired from coaching," I said. "Then they moved out here full-time."

"Who the fuck gonna come out here for summer vacation?"

I nodded.

"That is bothersome," I said. "Maybe it was because that's the only time they had off."

"Maybe," Hawk said.

"Or not," I said. "And why here?"

"Maybe you and me need to figure out what's up out here, 'fore we charge up to the Dell and shoot everybody's ass?"

"What's the most important thing in the desert?" I said.