"Hijo de puta!" exclaimed the stocky young man as he came running into the sheriff's office. "You won't believe this, Sheriff. Another girl has gone missing! The kitchen girl, Flora, from the Ortizes disappeared last night after their baile. That's the fourth girl to disappear from this area in the past month, and all of them are either Indian girls or servants."
     The sheriff looked up from a pile of papers she had just received from the New Mexico Territory Governor. Though still a territory, efforts were made to keep the order and to keep the established Mexicano families and the newly arrived American settlers safe — and able to pay their taxes. All of this was the sheriff's duty, and she took her job seriously. Though some more traditional counties chose to maintain the alguacil mayor, the newly-formed county of Brazos chose to have an elected sheriff, and Iragene Jones was their recently-elected official. Though she hadn't planned on being sheriff, it was her lot to have stopped a land corruption scheme in the county and to encourage the older sheriff to leave his position. Now Iragene spent most of her week at the Sheriff's Office in La Madera.
     Sheriff Jones couldn't help but let a smile slip through at her usually shy young deputy and his colorful exclamations. "Wait, the fourth girl? Who were the first three? Who reported this, Cruz, and why wasn't I told sooner?" she asked, slightly annoyed.
     "Pablo, the old manservant of Seņor Ortiz, reported her missing. No one noticed her absence until this morning. She worked late and then supposedly went to bed, but her bed wasn't slept in."
     "Is it possible that she ran away back to her family or with a novio?"
     "No, I asked Pablo. He seemed to know her well. She's got no family, and she didn't have a novio. He was pretty upset, especially with the rumors that are going around about the other missing girls."
     "What rumors are we talking about and, again, why didn't anyone tell me?" she asked him. New Mexico was not like any other place in the country. It had a profusion of peoples, Pueblo Indians, Navajos, Apaches, Comanches, traditional Mexicanos, progressive Mexicanos, Penitentes, established Americans, newly-arrived Americans and others. Different religions, superstitions, experiences, and languages abounded in New Mexico. The disappearance of so many young girls could trigger any amount of superstitious conjectures, and Iragene was not about to disregard the possibilities of any of those beliefs. This was, after all, New Mexico.
     "Everything from brujas to skinwalkers to La Llorona, and everyone is scared. Though others think some sick pendejo is kidnapping these girls," Cruz explained, his tone of voice definitely preferring the possibilities of the former rather than the latter.
     "Cruz, what do you think?" she asked him quietly. He started to say something, but then he paused. Finally he said, "I think we need to check on these disappearances. We need to find some evidence before making any guesses."
     "Good, let's go and visit the Ortiz property before anyone or anything has a chance to alter the evidence."
     They left the office and walked toward the town's stables. They saddled up and rode out of town toward the hacienda of the Ortiz family.
     Cruz was always taken aback when he saw Iragene riding a horse. She chose to wear the split skirt that enabled her to straddle the horse and not have to ride sidesaddle as most of the refined women of the area did. She rode well, and he didn't have to modify his own pace for her to keep up. She was a beautiful woman. Her hair was pulled back, but it fell down to the small of her back in sable brown curls. He almost wished he could ride behind her so he could catch the light reflecting off her hair as she rode. She had no idea but she had him captivated. He was half in love with and half in awe of her. She was not like any women he had known.
     "Cruz, are you listening?" Iragene looked over at her deputy.
     Embarrassed he looked at her with an expression of having been caught being somewhere he shouldn't have been. Eighteen years old and on his own for as long as he could remember, he welcomed the trust Iragene had given him and the experience she provided him. Though she too was just a novice as a protector of the law, she had an analytical and objective way of seeing people and things. He was besotted with her kindness, her quick mind, and her beauty.
     "Sorry, Sheriff, I was just thinking about those poor girls," he said quickly, hoping in addition to her other skills that she didn't read minds as well.
      "We'll interview Seņor Ortiz first and see if he saw anything unusual. And ask to check the guest list. If you don't mind, please talk to the kitchen and house staff. Ask Pablo if he or they remember anyone or anything out of the ordinary. Let's see if we can discover something that'll help us find the missing girls. We also need to check the servants' entrance to the kitchen and follow it, checking unusual footprints. By now there's probably little left worth examining, but it's worth a try."
     "Anything to find those girls. They don't deserve anymore pain."
     "These girls are mistreated by the Ortizes?"
     "Not necessarily by the Ortiz family, but some have ended up as servants at a very early age. Some had no families, some had poor families, and some, well, let's just say, the majority of these girls would have preferred to have grown up and lived in a home of their own, cleaning their own houses, not someone else's."
     "If that's the case, then why does Pablo think that they didn't run away?"
     "Because where would they go? No young girl would set out at night looking for families that might not even exist anymore."
     "Oh," she said sheepishly, realizing how lucky she was.
     They rode for the next hour in silence, enjoying the sound of the breeze through the trees, almost like the sound of a distant waterfall. The contrast of the ocean-blue sky against the sparsely-forested New Mexico land was still as striking today as it was the first time Iragene saw it when she arrived from Texas. She never tired of riding through the area. She loved her ranch, but she loved the serenity of riding through mountain passes and ill-defined roads, knowing that she was a part of a world that she and most of her neighbors would call enchanted.
     When they arrived at the Ortiz home, their horses were taken and they were shown into the sala. The servants gave them refreshingly cool water with citrus in it. Then they were left alone until Ortiz came into the room, only a few minutes later.
     He was a handsome man in his early forties. He wore a well-trimmed moustache and sideburns. An attractive streak of grey could be seen in both.
     "Seņorita Jones, how good to see you. We missed you at the baile!" Ortiz was quite friendly, but she noticed his quick glance and slight disapproval at her split skirt. Though modest, the split skirt was a skirt that some women had taken up in the Western states to ride astride a horse, but for most, especially the traditional Nuevos Mexicanos, it was a grave faux pas in the area of women's etiquette and delicacy.
     "I'm sorry I could not attend. My nephew was not feeling well, and I preferred to stay close in case my family needed me." True, the baby was feeling poorly, but she had stayed home to avoid the embarrassment of not knowing the dances or speaking the language. She was practicing both, but being the woman that she was, she felt she should wait until the dancing felt more natural and the language came more easily.
     Also, there had once been a situation where at one baile, when Iragene stood smiling as a group of Mexicano youths insulted her in Spanish. She was rescued and the young people were chided, but she learned the importance of knowing another's culture and beliefs as well as their behavior by learning their language.
     More servants came in with pan dulces and fruit. Iragene relished both and appreciated the generosity of her host, knowing his aversion to her being a sheriff. She was, after all, a woman and an Americana. She wasn't sure which he considered to be worse.
     "I know why you are here, and I appreciate your coming out here. I have heard that this is not the first girl to disappear from our Valley. How can I help you find . . . Flora, I think her name was?"
     Iragene saw that Ortiz hadn't even known the girl personally. How many girls with faces but unmemorable names worked on this property and the other dozen or so remaining haciendas, she wondered.
     "Yes, her name was Flora, and she is the fourth girl to be reported missing. Seņor Ortiz, do you recall any unusual event? Any guest leaving early? Anyone acting oddly or suspiciously? "
      The dignified man almost gasped at her insinuations. "One of my party guests? I cannot believe you dare to ask me that!" He continued to glare at her but shook his head no to all the questions.
     "Also," she continued in order to fill in the silence, "I'd like to know if I may have a list of the party attendees and then look around while Cruz speaks to your servants. Since it was Pablo that reported her missing, would it be all right if Cruz had Pablo take him around to your staff?"
     "I don't understand. Why do you need to speak to any of my guests, Sheriff, and why do you need to speak to the servants? You will just disturb them and they will not get any work done today. Furthermore, I hope that you are not planning on bothering each of my guests at their homes? How will that help any way? Certainly they wouldn't know el hombre malo that did this."
     Stepping gingerly on this one, she attempted to persuade her host that someone might have seen something unusual even though they, of course, were completely innocent. "Seņor Ortiz, I am sure that you had the most trustworthy and intelligent of guests at your baile. Surely, if anyone saw anything that would provide us with a clue to this person's actions, it would be one of your guests. And," she continued as quickly as she could, "your servants may have heard from Flora about a stranger that may have said something to her or had seen something unusual. You see, Seņor, this attempt to gain information may in the future protect all of your servants and keep them feeling safe enough to continue their work."
     He looked at her and then replaced his former expression with one of graciousness. "That is true, Seņorita, and I appreciate your understanding of the workings of the hacienda. I agree. My servants may be of some help." With that he sent the parlor servant to get Pablo. For the list of attendees, he called his male secretary, Seņor Baca, and then he excused himself and left to deal with matters that he deemed more important.
     Almost a half hour passed before Iragene heard the door open. A beautifully dressed, effeminate older man entered the room. He still wore the Van Dyke beard that hadn't been in style for many years, but it seemed to suit him quite well. In a deeper voice than she expected, he addressed her.
     "Seņorita Jones, I was told that you requested to see a list of the attendees at yesterdays baile? Is that correct?"
     He knew and she knew that was correct, but she repeated her desire and need to see the list of guests that attended as well as those that were invited and had had to decline. Not a muscle moved in his face as he looked at her, and then he finally opened a ledger that he had in his hands.
     "You realize that only the very best people are invited to the Ortizes? That none of these people could possibly be entangled in something so debased as dallying with a servant?"
     "Seņor Baca, I am not here to cast aspersions on guests, nor to judge anyone's moral or immoral behavior, be that as it may. I am here to find out what happened to these girls."
     "What do you think happened?"
     "I'm not sure of anything at this time. Now, may I have the list?" She looked back at him until he finally relented and handed her the list. She decided to wait until she was alone before going over it, and Baca was only too glad to leave this woman that went against all rules of etiquette and propriety. He gave her one final unabashed look of disapproval and left her.
     She did a quick perusal of the list, noting that the traditional Nuevo Mexicanos were there. Other attendees were the American banker, the silver mine owner, and the General Store owners, as well as some family members from Santa Fe who were likely still here. Even Father Agustin, a very kind and progressive priest attended. She liked the Father, and she was sorry she had missed seeing him. He was quite worldly for New Mexico, and she could not understand why he would continue to work in this part of the New Mexico Territory. However, she enjoyed exchanging books, ideas, and wit. He was always a delight to see.
     There was no one out of the usual. Most of these people were the elite of the area and attended all the functions. Not a lot to go on here, but she kept the list and went out to find Cruz.
     She found him and Pablo by the servants' quarters, a crude adobe with a dirt floor that looked like a dormitory. Though each girl had little but a bed and a small chest, the room was tidy and cozy. Over the beds of several of the girls were wooden crosses. Though each girl had worked well into the morning to clean up after the party, each was back at her post, cooking, cleaning, or laundering.
     "Did you learn anything helpful, Cruz? Anything that could give us any leads?"
     "I found some footprints leading off the property from the garden area, but they could be gardeners or workers."
     "Let's take a look," Iragene responded with a bit of discouragement slipping through her usually confident voice.
     They walked around and saw nothing to enlighten them. They were about to turn back when Iragene cried out, "What is this — a shoe?" She reached out and picked it up. Though little more than a sandal, it seemed quite out of place out there in the thick raspberry bushes surrounding the property.
     "It might be Flora's shoe. Cruz, ask Pablo what he thinks."
     Pablo replied to him in Spanish.
     "Sheriff, he said that this shoe is Flora's. She always puts flowers on her shoes because of her name." Pinned on the shoe was a remnant of some Queen Anne's Lace, white and delicate.
     Iragene sighed with relief. Finally, somewhere to start. "Cruz, you and Pablo start here and go off in one direction. I'll start here and go the other way. Maybe we can find something. By the way, were the buggies parked on the other side of this foliage?"
     Cruz answered, "Yes, Sheriff."
     "Look and see if you can find any trampled plants or . . . "
     Cruz knew she meant Flora's body, so he and Pablo turned off in the other direction. But then Pablo suddenly stopped and thought. He then went on to describe to Cruz something about the bushes.
     Cruz explained to Iragene the possibility of a long forgotten gate, and they followed Pablo. Pablo started to move quickly, buoyed by the thought of finding Flora. At the farthest distance from the hacienda, he stopped. He spent about five minutes pulling away plants, shrubs, and the omnipresent raspberry and honeysuckle bushes before he discovered an area that had its own trampled foliage.
     "El otro zapato!" He picked up the other shoe triumphantly, and both Iragene and Cruz came to him and carefully examined the area. They tried to determine footprints, but the foliage on the ground was too thick.
     They followed as best they could until they found an area where horses had been tethered. Apparently the horses and their riders had been there awhile because there were signs of waiting: cigarette butts, a broken whiskey bottle, and behind a bush, some human excrement.
     "Ugh," Iragene said flatly, "definitely signs of somebody waiting. So someone came through, possibly carrying Flora and bringing her here? The riders followed the road I think, until the buggies and other guests' horses scrambled their tracks. Cruz, before we leave, let's see if we can pick up the tracks of these horses. Probably not, but it's worth a try."
     "Sheriff," Cruz said uncomfortably, "I need to tell you something. I got other information when I asked the girls about the guests, and Pablo verified the girls' comments. It's about the banker."
     "Oh, no, just come out and tell me what you heard." She had always liked Philip Benton, but she saw the expressions on Cruz's and Pablo's face. "This isn't going to be good, is it?"
     "No," Cruz replied. "Talk here or wait until later?"
     "I'm sure we're alone. They all think we're crazy out here in the dirt anyway. Tell me what you heard."
     "From what the girls say and from what the girls at the other haciendas say, the banker, Seņor Benton, is . . . ah, how do I say this?" He paused. "Seņor Benton is free with his hands. He likes to touch the girls. He gives them many hugs and compliments, but he touches without permission. They try to avoid him, but even if they just pass by him, he reaches out and touches them. He brings them gifts too."
     "What sort of gifts?" Iragene asked, looking at him.
     "Jewelry, sometimes sweets. But these gifts are not right, even for girls with nothing. They feel . . . I think you would say 'cheap.'"
     "Pablo, would you have any idea if Mr. Benton drove a buggy or rode here on his horse? Did he bring anyone else with him?"
     Cruz asked Pablo. When he got his reply he turned to Iragene. "He said he came alone on his horse."
      "Ask Pablo if he could recognize Mr. Benton's horse's shoeprints. Are they unique in any way?" Cruz spoke to Pablo.
     Pablo's expression answered her question. No information here. She turned toward Pablo and thanked him, "Muchas gracias, Seņor," then she signaled Cruz to join her in walking around the property, hoping to find something.
     After another hour, she sighed and decided it was time to call it a day. She waved to Cruz, and he joined her.
     "Sorry I wasn't able to find any more information, Sheriff. We sure don't have much to go on."
     "That's true, but we have something. First of all, this kidnapper probably picked his victim because she is poor and has no family. Second, Flora must have known him for her to follow him away from the house. Third, when he finally acted, he probably picked her up and carried her the final distance to the horses, thus dropping her shoes. Last, he planned the kidnapping in advance and had accomplices waiting to take the girl. He then went back into the party, and no one was even the wiser."
     "I think you're right, but why is he kidnapping girls?"
     "I have the same question, Cruz. This is getting more disturbing. Right now Benton, the banker is on the top of our list, but every man at the baile has enough money to pay men to help him steal these girls. I think the best thing to do is talk to Benton. We might just want to check on Eli Bush, the mine owner, and the merchant, Robert March and his wife. Maybe someone saw something out of the ordinary. Is Padre Agustin in town?"
     "No, he left yesterday for Santa Fe to visit his sister. Seņorita Jones, there were eight other hacendados and their wives there. Are you not going to question them?"
     "Not yet. Eventually I'd like to go and check out the other haciendas where the girls disappeared, Cruz. But right now I want to go back to town and talk to these three men, and I have to admit, speaking English is easier for me. After tomorrow, we'll start on the other hacendados with missing girls.
     They rode back in silence, both busy with their own thoughts. Both reviewed the events of the day and tried to see if they had omitted any detail. Sounds of the early evening broke through their thoughts as the whirrrrr of the first night hawk jarred them back to their location, a beautiful trail more than a mile high, overlooking the river, some forty feet below.
     Just below them a ridge jutted out. Here Iragene had often imagined camping out with her lover, Armando. But he was dead now, and she was surprised to find herself still entertaining thoughts about him. He had died defending her, and she still had difficulty believing that he would never be back. She glanced down again towards the river and saw what looked to be an outline of a horse.
     Cruz had seen the same thing and motioned for her to let him go down and see what was really there. Could the shadows of dusk be playing games with their perception?
     Cruz got off his horse and walked soundlessly toward the strange sight. He had spent several years with the Cochiti Pueblo, and they had taught him well how to hunt and how to be silent when doing so. She lost him several times as he made his way down to the ledge. A few minutes passed, and she heard him call her.
     Iragene tied the two horses just off the trail and followed down the ledge. Though she was graceful and sure-footed, she was not as silent as Cruz. He noted her arrival by the tiny cascade of pebbles she left behind her. She looked down at the shadowed mass, and even in the impending darkness, she saw it was a horse, a dead one without a saddle and bridle.
     The area was well trampled, and the poor horse was lying in an awkward position. Its leg was broken, and she must have fallen. The riders had left her where she fell and shot her in the head. Death, at least, was quick for her. On the ground next to the horse was something shiny. It was a small, delicate piece of silver with turquoise on a string. It was Indian made. Perhaps it was Flora's?
     "Cruz, do you see this? Can you see anything else around here in the dark?"
     "No, but I'll come out tomorrow at dawn before the ground is disturbed. Do you think the riders came here to rest or to walk through the river shallows to hide their tracks?"
     "I don't know, but if there is anything to uncover, you'll be the one to do it, Cruz. I don't think I could do this job without you. Someday maybe you'll help me become a better tracker." Luckily she couldn't see the blush on the young man's face or he would never have been able to look at her again.
     He shook his head and they started up the hill. The ride back was non-eventful but pleasant. After seeing to their horses and catching a meal at a local woman's house, known for her chile verde, they both retired, too tired to think anymore.
     The next morning Iragene got up and washed. She went over to the hotel where she got herself some coffee, about a third of it cream, and a plate of huevos rancheros with chile verde. Though she had eaten late, she was ravenous. She didn't look up until she had almost finished. When she did, she saw Mr. Benton the banker, eating a plate of pancakes and chorizo, a spicy sausage. He looked at her and smiled. He got up abruptly and carried over his coffee and plate.
     "Mind if I join you?" he said, as he sat down across from her. "I came by the office yesterday, and I heard you were out at the Ortiz place."
     "Yes, we were following up on another kidnapping. What did you want to see me about?" she asked, trying to discourage him from settling in too comfortably. However, he had. She continued to drink her caramel-colored coffee, wishing he had at least waited until she had finished. It didn't seem to bother him that he had interrupted her meal and had upset her. Heck, he hadn't even noticed her reaction.
     "Iragene, if I might call you that."
     "How about Sheriff, Mr. Benton?" she returned.
     He smiled patiently as a father would to a naughty girl and continued. "Sheriff, I heard about that other girl being taken the same night Mr. Ortiz had his party. I thought I'd come by and see if they ever found her. Did you find out anything?"
     Wondering if Benton was trying to find out what she knew, she smiled coyly and replied, "Yes, but right now, I would rather keep that to myself."
     "I see, you sly girl, you. Whatever you learned, I hope you use it to get that little girl back. She was a real sweet one, and I would hate to have anything happen to her."
     Iragene looked up quickly. "She was a real sweet what, Mr. Benton?" and she watched him closely as to his response.
     "Sweet girl, Sheriff. Like most of those working girls, she was always polite and efficient. Her going missing is a real tragedy. I wish you the best of luck finding out who did this. If I could be of any help, let me know."
     He got up to go, but Iragene felt she might as well take advantage of his being there. "Mr. Benton, the other night when you were at the baile, did you see anyone or anything unusual?"
     He stopped and thought. "No, I didn't. There was a lot of music, drinks, food, and beautiful women to keep me distracted all evening. No, wait —" He caught himself and then said, "No, I don't think so."
     Iragene waited, but he said nothing more. She wasn't sure how to proceed and then the question came out freely on its own. "Mr. Benton, are you always so familiar with the young servant girls?"
     "Familiar? Oh, you mean friendly. Yes, I love those little gals. They're hardworking and pretty. I figure they need some attention, working as hard as they do. Sometimes I even give them little gifts like jewelry. In fact, the other night I gave Flora, my favorite little gal, a necklace with some turquoise. I saw her wearing it."
     Iragene took the piece of jewelry out of her pocket and showed it to him. "Is this the necklace you gave her?"
     "Why yes, that is, where did you find it? She isn't . . . dead? Is she?" he stuttered. For the first time, his overly-friendly face turned serious. He looked at her, almost imploring her to say no.
     "No, we found it, but we haven't found her." Pushing back her chair, she bade him good-bye and thanked him for his help. "Mr. Benton, may I call on you again if I think of anything? Or would you call on me, if you can think of anything else?"
     "Of course, Sheriff. I hope you find those girls and the monster who is taking them." He looked at her and just shook his head as he walked out. His smile was gone, and he looked like a much nicer person and much less of a suspect.
     When she got to the clerk taking the money at the front, she found that Benton had paid her bill. Not knowing whether to be pleased or angry — he could be plying her with kindness to throw her off — she went out the door and headed for the General Store to meet with Mr. and Mrs. March.
     When she entered the store she got the surprise of her week. Inside the huge room, full of merchandise and people was her brother.
     "Daniel! I didn't know you were coming to town today!" She hugged her sweet brother and almost squeezed him too hard.
     "Iragene, you're going to make me pass out. Let up a bit, Sis." She did and they smiled at each other.
     "What brings you to town? This isn't your usual shopping day. Are you alone or did you bring Prudence and the baby? Is Cassie here? God, I miss you all, even if it's only been two days." Cassie was her girlhood friend that joined her family when they came out to New Mexico from Texas.
     "Actually I'm alone. It's Prudence's birthday next week, and I wanted to make sure the gift I ordered had arrived. I used the excuse of running out of oats for the horses to come to town. Cassie is in on this. It was her suggestion to order what I ordered."
     "And what did you order?" Iragene asked suspiciously, knowing that he would spend everything they owned on his wife and son if he could.