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head.”
    Halliday had no reply.
    “Martinez had a prior,” Garcia countered. “The neighbors had made several complaints.”
    “I checked the records, Garcia. You were the arresting officer two months ago. You were this close to getting suspended for entering the Martinez home without provocation.”
    “Shit, I gotta go detective.”
    “Don’t hang up. Listen to me, Garcia. I’d better not hear any derogatory remarks or any insinuations in your report or your conversations in the office. If you don’t find concrete evidence against Martinez you stay the hell away from him. You understand me?”
    “Yes, sir .”
    “Don’t even try to mess with me.”
    The line clicked off. Halliday put the phone down.
    Gladstone’s face was all animated. “Jesus, what happened?”
    He needed to talk to Brayden about Garcia. “Garcia called in reference to the domestic dispute call out this afternoon. I moved the family out. The place burned down an hour ago.”
    “Sur’s a tough area,” Gladstone said in a low voice.
    Gladstone exercised good judgment not to pursue his issue with Garcia. The egocentric sergeant had been way out of line with the Martinez family. What was that about a ghost starting the fire? It hearkened back to the ghost that little Maria and her mother mentioned.
    Halliday stewed on while Gladstone’s direct gaze made him keep his emotions under wraps.
    Gladstone’s DROID buzzed. When he looked up he said, “I received an e-mail from Fresno PD. They found a missing person.”
    “What do you mean, found ?”
    “A farmer discovered a deceased male Caucasian in a cornfield.”
    “Go on.”
    “His upper body had been mutilated,” Gladstone said, leaving a pause.
    “They’re trying to make an I.D. from dental. Someone or something removed the man’s face.”
    Halliday recalled what Festus had said this morning, about how they had done terrible things to his dog, Shack. “Any evidence?”
    “Fresno PD didn’t specify.”
    “We’ll split up tomorrow. You research the Redwood Bluff complaints here then head to Fresno. Check out the deceased MP.”
    “Why—”
    “Tell them we’ve been investigating missing persons here.”
    “You sure you don’t want to run this by the chief first?”
    “I’ll talk to him. Meanwhile, I’ll visit Redwood Bluff. I need to learn more about Lamar Festus.”
    “Good luck with Sheriff Barnes.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “Sheriff Barnes is not keen on filing reports.”
    Halliday didn’t understand. “I’ll deal with him.”
    “Have it your way.”
    “I believe Festus is hiding out not far from the clearing we were at this morning. He’ll return to Redwood Bluff. My job tomorrow is to find out where he will return to.” Halliday read Gladstone’s face. “Anything else you want to tell me?”
    Gladstone rose up after receiving another call. With smiling eyes he spoke into the phone, “Hi Babe.” He nodded at Halliday as he hustled to the door.
    Halliday sighed. The young man response to the wife’s demands took precedence over his call to duty.
    He pondered the events of the day. Lamar Festus, a well-educated man, not a vagrant, had led him into the forest by fabricating a story of his dead dog. Had the Sierra Contractor or DOD vehicle also been a fabrication? Why did Festus have to run off? Now another MP has been discovered, this one a mutilated corpse.
    It could be that he was spinning his wheels. Two unrelated incidents were fueling Halliday’s intuition. They might lead him to where the chief didn’t want him to go.

Chapter Six

    Halliday’s downtown apartment suffered the same inferiority complex as the PD. The Santa Reina Palms owner was fond of bragging that the structure had survived six Presidents and the big earthquake of a decade earlier. Halliday’s fourth floor one bedroom unit exhibited long cracks above the entry that didn’t possess the quaintness of exposed adobe walls.
    Several framed Thomas Kincaid “Christmas” themes hung