Missing in Santa Fe: Episode 1

"Welcome to the force." His tone doesn't sound at all welcoming. Chief Weber stares across his cluttered desk, sizing you up. "I got a call from a colleague this morning," he shouts over the pumping music. "Hold on." With a turn of a knob on his boom box, the Verdi duet dies away, leaving his office in blessed silence. The chief glowers again. Or is it gas?
"Captain Bitterman. Up in Taos." Weber almost barks it out. "Has a favor to ask. One of his personal friends has reported a missing person. The missing man is supposed to be in our neck of the woods but no one's heard from him in 48 hours. I figured this is a good case for you to cut your teeth on. Orient yourself."

"Thanks," you reply. It's your first week as a detective and your first week in Santa Fe. You appreciate any slack Weber can cut you, although it doesn't look like he cuts a lot.
"Shouldn't take more'n a day, if the guy's really here." Weber tosses you a scratch pad with a few scribbled notes. "Name is Arnold Post. Some kind of accountant from L.A. The guy who reported him missing is his business partner. He lives in Taos and Post spent a week there on vacation. It's all on the pad."
You wander back to your cubicle, trying to translate the chief's scrawl into English. G-l-e-- Glen Treater. That was the partner. A dollar sign by the name was probably shorthand for the man being rich and influential. You had no idea Taos accountants fell into that category.

From what you piece together, it seems Arnold Post and his assistant had been visiting Treater for the past week, mixing some business with the usual tourist things. Two days ago, Post and his assistant -- the name looks like Helena Hiss -- left Taos, driving their rented Mercedes the 75 miles down to Santa Fe. The plan was to do a little sightseeing then pay a call on Post's sister who just happened to live in the area.
You manage to decipher three more phrases. "Supposed to call Treater that evening. Important business. Worried." At the bottom of the second page are a list of phone numbers. Treater. The sister. Captain Bitterman.
"You'll get used to his handwriting."

You never heard him approach and yet there he is, standing just inches behind you. John Night Sky is one of three Native Americans on the force and the only Pueblo. You find him a fascinating character, friendly and yet somehow a world to himself.

"Captain Bitterman?" he adds, feeling no shame at reading over your shoulder. "Well. I guess he's off his suspension." Night Sky does this, makes simple comments that open up a whole bag of questions.
"What suspension? Why?"
Night Sky shrugs. "A few months back. He was suspected of gambling with a bookie. Sports gambling. He could have lost his badge. So -- you've got yourself a missing person."
"Yeah," you say, not very excited. "I'll check the hotels, inns, hospitals."
"Don't forget right here. For all we know, your man could be in a holding cell."
He isn't. Nor is Mr. Post registered at any overnight accommodation, medical or other. You assume he's not staying with his sister. But you decide to check it out just the same.

Introduction

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