Serpent’s Tooth. Faye Kellerman

no, ma’am. I grew up on High Mountain.”

      She smiled. “Anyway, this … was Walter’s living room. It shows his personality, I think.”

      Martinez looked around, his heart beating like a little boy’s. The personification of his western hero, the room’s couches and chairs all done in brown suede and horn. The tables were fashioned from old driftwood. A handmade Navajo rug sat on a floor of knotty pine. A tremendous stone fireplace. And the walls. Loaded with pictures of Skinner as Cattle Foreman Kirk Brown, dressed in western gear, posing with past cowboy luminaries. The daytime ropers—Hopalong Cassidy, Roy Rogers, the Lone Ranger, Wild Bill Hickock, and Sky King. Then there were pictures of Skinner and the nighttime biggies, on the set of Wagon Train, Death Valley Days, and Paladin. Kirk with Bat Masterson and Sugarfoot and Mr. Favor. And Gunsmoke. Lots of pictures of Skinner on that set. With Matt Dillon and Chester and with the beautiful and alluring Miss Kitty. As a boy, Martinez dreamed of Kitty’s boobs, dreamed about them for many years. Then the series got old and so did Amanda Blake …

      The snapshots weren’t the only things on the walls. Sharing the space was a display of stuffed and mounted sports fish—a huge mother salmon, barracudas baring teeth, swordfish and marlins flashing weapons on their snouts. The bookshelves had been turned into showcases for more snapshots, also for Skinner’s fishing awards and trophies. Adelaide saw Martinez eyeing the shiny gold cups. She picked one up, hefted it in her hand.