Scratchgravel Road A Mystery

FIFTEEN



At six thirty Thursday morning Josie called Teresa’s name, and woke her from a deep sleep in the backseat. Through the night Josie had finished two cups of cold McDonald’s coffee that she had stocked up on in El Paso, and drunk on the long ride home. She had spent an hour on the phone with Dillon, who had forgiven her for taking the trip, and then told her stories from his childhood to keep her from falling asleep at the wheel. Now, her eyes felt as if someone had sprinkled sand in them, and although she was exhausted from driving and the stress of the night, she was also thoroughly satisfied.

Josie pulled into Marta’s driveway, turned the rental car off, and stretched her back after the long ride. It was a bleak morning. They’d had a one-day reprieve from the rain. Now, it was back and forecast to stay for several days, dumping another several inches. Josie sat for a moment, watching the rain streak down the car window.

Marta opened the front door to her home. She was wearing jeans and a loose-fitting striped T-shirt, her face filled with worry. She looked confused when she saw Josie exit the rental car. From the front door of her home she couldn’t see Teresa in the backseat, and Josie could see panic fill Marta’s face.

“It’s good news, Marta. I’ve brought her home. She’s getting her stuff together in the backseat.”

Marta’s eyes widened and she ran through the rain to the car as if she wouldn’t believe the news until she could see her daughter herself. She peered through the back passenger window and covered her face with her hands. After a moment she walked around to the other side of the car and approached Josie.

“You, my friend, I will never be able to repay.”

Josie hugged Marta, who pulled away suddenly and said, “I just checked the Internet an hour ago. They don’t expect to open the International Bridge today. The flooding is too bad. How did you?” She motioned to the car.

“It’s a long story. Let’s get out of the rain. Teresa can fill you in. I’m headed home for a shower and few hours’ sleep.”

* * *

After a tearful reunion and apologies and promises from Teresa, Josie pulled back out of the driveway. She drove the ten minutes to her home, glad to let her thoughts wander over not much of anything. She planned to collect Chester from Dell’s house, go home and eat a fried egg, take a shower, and sleep until eleven when she would get up for second shift. It would be good to put the past twenty-four hours behind her.

Josie pulled down her lane, drove past her own home, and down the long drive to Dell’s place. She found him inside the horse barn, with the sliding doors pulled all the way back, standing over a raised fire pit. Dell had mounted a tire rim from an old semi horizontally onto a metal tripod. He’d welded a grate in the bottom of the tire rim to hold the fire and coals. The tripod lifted the rim off the ground, and with a metal bottom inside the rim, it made a sturdy fire pit. Dell was sliding a swinging grate over the red coals when she ran inside the barn and out of the rain.

“How do?” he called, and set a metal coffeepot on the grate.

“You having smoke withdrawal?”

“I need some blue sky. Can’t stand all this rain. We’ll have us some cowboy coffee and that’ll cheer us up.”

Chester came loping around from the back of Dell’s house. He knew the sound of Josie’s car engine and made a beeline to greet her. He came into the barn and shook water all over both of them. Dell threw Josie an old towel and she dried the dog off and scratched his chest and ears until he wandered away to check one of the horses making a racket in the back of the barn.

Dell dragged two bales of straw over to the fire and they both sat watching the smoke drift out of the barn into the rain.

“Dig into that cooler, there against the stable. I kept Chester some scraps from breakfast.”

Josie smiled when she found a half pound of fried bacon wrapped in tinfoil. “You have better dog scraps than what I keep in my refrigerator for people.”

Chester smelled the bacon and came back to sit patiently in front of her, accepting each piece as if it were a delicate morsel, chewing carefully before swallowing. He always appeared to sincerely enjoy the taste of a good snack, and Dell couldn’t resist spoiling him.

Dell stood, arms crossed over his chest, and watched the interaction. “That dog’s got better manners than most kids.”

Josie and Dell watched the coffee percolate as she caught him up on the dead body and the connection to the old Feed Plant.

“What do you know about that place?” she asked.

“Nothing. Don’t want to either. Go talk to Sauly. He worked there for years before they fired him. Sons a bitches.”

She grinned.

“Why on God’s green earth would a man make something that can’t be touched for ten thousand years just so he can heat his house? They call that clean energy?” Dell stood and jammed his poker stick into the coals and then placed a small chunk of wood into the fire. “We’re so smart we’re stupid. I can’t even talk about it. Pisses me off too much.”

Dell walked to a storage room in the back of the barn to retrieve two coffee cups. By the time he came back to the fire and poured the coffee he’d calmed down and moved on to a topic that didn’t raise his ire.

“How about the pencil pusher?” Dell asked.

She sipped her coffee and took her time answering. “His name is Dillon.”

“I know his name. Where’s he been? Haven’t seen his car much.”

She shrugged and tried to figure Dell’s angle. “He’s been at a conference. I just saw him a couple days ago.”

“Seems like I haven’t seen him all that much,” Dell said.

“What is this?”

“Conversation. I thought that’s what you females liked.”

“Well, I’m not your typical female.” She fell quiet, assuming the conversation would turn.

“So, how is he?”

Josie sighed. “He’s okay. He’s good. Why do you care how he is?”

Dell held a hand up. “I’ll restate the question. How are you and Dillon together? As a pair?”

“Dell! Why are you asking me this? It’s too early in the morning.” She blew air out in frustration. “I don’t know. What does that mean, how are we as a pair? Am I one way on my own, and another with him?”

“Sure. Lots of people like that.”

“We’re fine.” She patted her leg to get Chester to wander over and lie down at her feet. She stroked his head and hoped Dell would let it go.

He was quiet a minute as he stared at the fire. “Here’s why I ask. You went through hell and back a few months ago. Had gunmen shoot up your bedroom with you laying there. That’s enough to fry anybody’s brain. But, it should also make you think. You’re not getting any younger. If you like this fella then maybe it’s time to do something about it. If you don’t, or if you’re happy the way you are, then leave it be. Nothing wrong with that. Just don’t let fear hold you back.”

“Who says I’m afraid?”

“You’re a cop. What happens if you let fear influence your decisions as a cop? You get your ass blown to kingdom come. Same thing happens in your relationships. You let fear influence your relationships and you end up living alone on a beach.”

“That what happened to you?” she asked.

“I don’t have fear. I just don’t want what other people seem to want. But I think you do.”

* * *

After four hours of sleep that left her body feeling heavy and her mind sluggish, Josie dragged herself out of bed and into the shower. She drove to work on autopilot and walked into the Artemis Police Department at noon, ready for a second shift. She had a quick conversation with Lou and then found Otto upstairs glaring at his computer, and Marta brewing a fresh pot of coffee.

Otto heard Josie enter the office and turned toward her, his lips pursed in anger. “This blasted thing won’t let me in. Something’s timed out.”

She approached his desk and leaned over him to examine his screen. “You need to learn a little patience.”

“Weren’t these things supposed to save us time? We were supposed to get rid of all our paperwork. We were sold a big fat lie.” He picked up his mouse and pitched it across his desk. “How many heart attacks you think are caused each year because of these damned things?”

“Otto. Calm down. And don’t throw your mouse.” Josie sat down and discovered he was entering the wrong username and password for the new department e-mail system. While she logged him in he poured her a fresh cup of coffee.

Marta sat down at the conference table, her eyes bleary, looking slightly better than the day before.

“How’s Teresa?” Otto asked, sitting down beside her with a handful of paperwork, notes, and his steno pad.

Marta wore a silver cross necklace that she pulled from underneath her uniform shirt. She rubbed absently at the back of the cross with her thumb. “‘Repentant’ is I think a good description. She’s not one to apologize, but she is truly sorry this time. As she should be. She knows that she risked not only her life, but Josie’s too. And she realizes the pain and anguish she caused me.” Marta turned and watched Josie approach the table with her coffee and notes. “You must have said something that clicked with her. She’s awful impressed with you.”

“I think it was the midnight car ride that did it,” Josie said. She turned to Otto. “So, fill us in on the Santiago investigation.”

“I called Cowan yesterday to let him know we think we have the victim’s ID. I told him Santiago’s work records indicate he was forty-four years old. Remember, Cowan first estimated he was closer to sixty. He reexamined everything, including internal organs, and discovered some were decomposing at a faster rate than others.”

Marta frowned. “How does that happen?”

“Cowan thinks he ingested something that ate up his insides,” he said.

“How does that connect with the open sores on his arms?” Josie asked.

“That’s what I wanted to know. Sounds like he got nuked,” he said.

“Like he was over-radiated?” Josie said.

Otto shrugged, his expression skeptical. “Cowan says medical records need to be subpoenaed, but we don’t even know where to start. Our best bet is tracking down his family to see if he was getting chemo or radiation. He claims cancer patients can get sores that won’t heal sometimes.”

Marta winced and shuddered.

“He’s got a call in to Centers for Disease Control this morning,” Otto said. “I have to give him credit. Cowan’s working overtime on this one.”

“Is Lou running down family?” Josie asked.

“Yep. The Feed Plant didn’t have any records outside of his address here in Artemis. Lou’s tracked back a Juan Santiago to four cities in northern Mexico. She’s starting with those families first. See if she can get a match and notify the family. Then she’ll go for medical records.” Otto opened the shoebox in front of him. “I found these at Santiago’s place. His wife’s name is Abella. That’ll help Lou make the connection.”

“That’s great,” Josie said.

“He hasn’t been at his apartment for days. No surprise there. The only thing I found of interest was this box full of letters.” He looked at Marta. “They’re all in Spanish. I can get the gist of the letters, but I’ll need your help.”

“Sure.”

“I’ll get them in order for you first.”

Josie took notes as she talked. “You didn’t find any money? No stash he was hiding to send home?”

“Nothing.”

“Might give us a motive,” Marta said.

Otto shook his head. “That doesn’t work with the body in the desert and the wallet with twenty-four dollars left in Cassidy Harper’s car,” he said.

Josie switched tracks. “I also want to get Dillon to dig up what he can on Diego Paiva. See what kind of records he can find on Beacon.”

“That Paiva seems like a shady character,” Otto said.

“Why? Because he’s smooth and polished?” Josie said.

He considered Josie for a moment, obviously annoyed by her question. “Disingenuous was more what I was thinking. I’m just not sure we can trust him as a reliable source at this point.”

Josie stopped herself from commenting further. Otto was typically a good judge of character, but sometimes he jumped to conclusions about people, and Josie thought he was sometimes led astray by his initial judgment.