The Territory A Novel

EIGHTEEN



The phone rang in the kitchen at nine forty-five in the morning and woke Josie from a sleep so deep, she had to remember where the phone was. She stumbled out of bed and found Sergio Pando on the line calling to check on her.

“Word on the street is that Artemis stopped the Medrano cartel at the border. I wonder if you know what a blow this is to their organization. With the Pope gone, and the Bishop trying to hold together people who no longer believe in his leadership, they are limping along. I hear members are even defecting. Leaving the organization altogether.”

Josie sat down at her kitchen table, her brain still fuzzy with sleep. “That’s good to hear, Sergio.”

“The bad news is, La Bestia has freedom to push forward. They will take advantage of Medrano’s weakness and they will put pressure on the people and businesses in Piedra Labrada.”

“I’m sure the bribes and protection payments will increase,” she said.

“We’ve put together a Piedra contingent to gather those who are left and willing to fight. We’re talking about moving our homes and businesses into a smaller area, arming ourselves to fight back. Maybe we catch a break that way.”

“If we can help in Artemis, band together on both sides of the river, we’ll do it. I’m behind you one hundred percent,” Josie said. It was good to hear optimism from someone living in Piedra. Things had been so grim for such a long time that most had given up hope.

She hung up with Sergio, fixed herself and Chester a half dozen fried eggs, and sat on the back patio and enjoyed the sunny morning. Her body was sore and tired, but she felt the fog clearing from her head and felt her senses sharpening. The pieces and ends of the investigation were weaving together in her mind, and she was ready to log back in to work.

In a moment of self-awareness, maybe pity, she couldn’t be sure of the reason, Josie called her mother to check on her, to make sure she made the trip back to Indiana safely.

Her mother sounded surprised at the call and happy to hear from her at first. “The drive wore me out. Too many flat miles with nothing to look at.”

“A lot of people don’t like all the wide open space. Some people say it makes them nervous,” Josie said.

“Didn’t make me nervous. Just made me tired. All that interstate driving. I should have planned some highway miles.”

“I was surprised you left so soon. I could have helped you plan a route back.”

“So, how did it feel, me leaving you without a word?”

Josie’s face flushed and she closed her eyes to the fight she could already feel coming. “Let’s not do this.”

“Hope it made you think about the way you left me with no word.”

“We left for different reasons.”

“Oh, really? Fill me in, then. ’Cause I don’t know one iota why you left the way you did.”

The energy Josie had felt was turning to weariness like a switch had been flipped off. “I just called to make sure you made it home. I didn’t call for a fight.”

“Don’t think I can’t see the way you judge me. Seems to me you turned out all right. You think I didn’t have something to do with that?”

“I was a child. You left me to fend for myself through grade school. There wasn’t much parenting involved.”

“You think it was easy on me? I had a little girl who was half-crazy over her daddy getting shot. You think I was right in the head, just ready to jump in there and be mother of the year?”

Josie consciously lowered her voice, slowed her speech, and tried to de-escalate the tension. “I was eight. You were an adult. When things get tough, sometimes you need to suck it up and put on a show. First you convince other people you can handle it, and then you convince yourself.”

“And did your eight-year-old little mind notice that I did it for us? To get us by? I’d never worked a day in my life! I had no skills. I couldn’t type, couldn’t run a cash register, couldn’t do shit!”

Josie took a breath. “Okay, this is pointless. Maybe someday we can work through this. Not now, though. I’m glad you made it back home.”

Her mother remained silent.

“I’ll talk to you later.” Josie hesitated, heard nothing on the other end, and slowly closed her cell phone.

The conversation burned her insides like battery acid. Even after so many years, she recognized the feeling; she always felt this way after talking to her mother, no matter the topic, and no matter the time between conversations. She had no doubt her mom had the same experience. The only consolation was that it was an improvement over the last two years of silence.

She dialed the hospital and discovered Dell had checked himself out at ten o’clock the night before. She needed a dose of Dell to get herself out of her own head.

* * *

Dressed in khaki shorts, a pink tank top, and her favorite pair of walking boots, Josie called Chester, and they set out behind the house through Dell’s pasture. The sky was a brilliant blue, the sun not quite high enough to burn.

She found him outside in his ratty jean shorts and cowboy boots, bare chested, sitting on a stump by a fire pit twenty feet from the front of his cabin. He grinned up at her and tossed a few more twigs onto the small fire.

“You think just because you live by a cop that you don’t have to abide the burn ban?”

His grin widened. “I got a doctor’s excuse. You know the medical marijuana they use over in California? Well, I got medical fire prescribed for me.”

Chester shoved his nose up under Dell’s hand until he rubbed the dog’s ears.

“I hear you made a run for it last night,” she said.

“I couldn’t take that place. The smell was horrible. It’s supposed to smell clean. Does the smell of chemicals smell clean to you?” He sat up straight, breathed deep, and exhaled with a smile. “This is clean. Smell that mesquite smoke? That’s what’ll cure me. Right here in my own front yard.”

Josie sat across from him on a stump that had long ago been designated her own. “I’m sorry I got you involved in that mess.”

He glared at her. “Now, don’t go and piss me off. Treat me like some old man who can’t make a decision for himself. I went because I wanted to. End of discussion.”

She nodded. “Fair enough.”

“Let me tell you something. I don’t like this kind of talk, so I’ll make it quick. I was proud to know you the other night. You showed a lot of grit out there. You have honor and integrity, and there aren’t too many people I’d say that about.”

She let the words settle around her. A lump formed in her throat, and she swallowed hard to keep the emotion out of her voice. “I can see it in other people. I try, but I can’t see it in myself. I never feel like I quite get there.”

“That’s the way it’s supposed to be. It keeps you working on being better.” Dell leaned forward and tossed a few more gnarled chunks of mesquite onto the fire. “Here’s the thing. If we could see ourselves like other people do, it’d do one of two things. We’d either have an ego inflated so big, we’d explode, or we’d be shocked to find out how much people hated us. Either way, it’d kill us. That’s why the movie stars are so screwed up. People aren’t hardwired to hear all that nonsense. One day they’re brilliant; the next, they’re a has-been. Nobody ought to hear that. You keep plugging away in life and keep trying to do better by your own standards. You don’t worry about what your mom or the mayor or anybody else has to say. You’ll be just fine.”

Dell paused and stood suddenly, claiming he needed to strain his sun tea. She knew he’d change the subject when he got back. While he was inside his cabin, Josie’s pocket vibrated and she took a call from the Arroyo County Jail requesting she come as soon as possible. The ballistics information had come in on the guns Otto had found in Pegasus Winning’s trailer.

* * *

Josie arrived at the jail at the same time attorney Charlie Givens was getting out of his Oldsmobile sedan. Five years ago, when Charlie turned sixty, he retired from his small private law business in Presidio. He had to resume work for the county just a year later, when his wife was diagnosed with inoperable cancer. She was trying an experimental treatment not covered by their insurance. Givens was a good man and a competent attorney and Josie had always liked him. He reminded her of Andy Griffith, with the same old-fashioned good manners and drawn-out way of talking.

Givens sat his briefcase on the pavement and shook Josie’s hand in both of his.

“Good to see you, Chief Gray.”

“How’s your wife doing, Charlie?”

He nodded slowly. “She’s back home again. Next treatment in three weeks. So far, so good.”

“I’ll be thinking about you both.”

Charlie picked his briefcase up again and they walked toward the entrance of the jail. “I’m here to see your boy, Kenny Winning.”

Kenny didn’t know it, but he had just caught his first break.

* * *

Josie found Otto in the central hub talking with Sheriff Martínez. Otto gave Josie the results from ballistics and said Kenny was meeting with Givens for the first time. Josie shared the notes and questions she had prepared to use during the interrogation with Otto and Martínez. They agreed that Martínez need not be present, but that Otto would stand in the back of the room and enter the conversation only if he felt Josie needed support.

* * *

Josie noticed the smell in the interrogation room as soon as the jailer unlocked the door. Sweat and fear, the unmistakable odor of a man realizing his life had been forever altered in a horrible and permanent way. A week ago, Kenny Winning had been convinced he had scammed the winning ticket and would cash in. Now the look on his face, not desperation yet, the look of someone trying to fake innocence, made her heart ache. She knew before he spoke his first word that he had done far more than he let on. He couldn’t fake innocent any more than she could fake a laugh.

Charlie was sitting at the table on the same side as Kenny with a yellow legal pad and a pen sitting in front of him. A half page of notes were jotted down on the pad.

Josie mirandized Kenny again and set up a tape recorder in the middle of the table. He had not been handcuffed, and he had a pack of cigarettes, a lighter, ashtray, and Styrofoam cup of coffee in front of him. Josie opened her steno pad to the page of questions, though she had committed them to memory.

Givens said Kenny was ready to offer a statement. Josie handed him paper in triplicate and asked him to describe what happened to Red’s guns in as much detail as he could remember. The written version was not much different from the abbreviated version he had shared with Josie the day prior. He had found the body and seized the moment. He had seen stealing the guns as a way out. Once Josie moved the questioning back to Red’s murder, Kenny’s tone of voice altered, moving from weary to cocky and strident, a sure sign Josie was on the right path.

“Let’s make sure this is clear. I’m sure Mr. Givens will agree with me. If you cooperate now and tell the truth without days of wasted investigation, your sentencing will reflect your cooperation.”

Kenny glanced at Givens, who nodded once gravely. “That is a fact. The truth will often reduce time served if you make it to penalty phase. However, if you have any question about what information to share, I counsel you to confer with me in private. Off the record.” Givens looked over his reading glasses at Kenny. “Understood?”

Josie had planned a half dozen approaches for the interview. She followed a hunch and opted for a quick start. “Here’s information that may help you decide how we proceed. All of the guns that were confiscated from the rental trailer you rented, and your camper? They’ve all been sent to ballistics. We’ve got the gun that shot Red Goff.”

Kenny’s stare had grown intense and the muscles along his jawline rigid. His thought process was either operating at warp speed or had slowed to a standstill. He stared at Josie as if trying to process the information while his attorney stared at Kenny, trying to process his response. Josie loved this part of an investigation: the end of the chess game, where the opponents locked down for the final move.

Kenny’s gaze was unflinching.

Josie went on. “I’ll share something with you that we haven’t made public yet. We found the bullet. Lodged into the pine tree outside your trailer. Near the picnic table.” She paused for a moment, sipped her cold coffee, and maintained her gaze. “You’ve surely watched enough TV to realize we can match that bullet to the gun. Just like a fingerprint.”

No response.

“Or maybe that bullet will match the gun you gave Pegasus. Maybe her fingerprints are all over the gun that killed Red Goff.”

Anger flashed on his face.

“Did I mention we found the guns in your sister’s trailer? They’ve been checked. One of those guns matches the bullet that killed Red Goff.”

Sweat dripped down the side of his temples as he leaned into the table. “She has nothing to do with this.”

“Careful now,” Givens said.

“Come on, Kenny. If the bullet comes from a gun in her trailer with her fingerprints all over the gun? Even if it’s registered to you, the jury wants a connection between the shooter and the weapon.”

“It’s my gun!” His hands gripped the handles, and Josie thought he might come up out of the chair. His eyes were wide and unfocused. “I shot the son of a bitch!”

“To get at his guns?”

Givens interrupted, “Mr. Winning, I would recommend you stop right now. We need to talk before you proceed.”

Kenny ignored the attorney. Josie had seen it happen before, as if the tension of maintaining a lie had been broken and the truth came rushing out like water.

“The son of a bitch was looking at her! I caught him looking at her through the window. She was walking around clueless, completely naked.” Kenny shut his eyes and slammed his back against his seat. “I walked up to him and put a gun to his forehead. He didn’t even flinch.”

“Did you shoot him then?”

“It was his own fault he got shot!”

Kenny leaned forward suddenly and grabbed a cigarette out of the pack, lit it, and inhaled deeply. He pitched the lighter on the table and ran his hand through his hair.

“I knew Pegasus got off work at seven that morning. I was going to surprise her with breakfast when she got home. She didn’t even know I was in town yet.”

“Was your trailer set up behind Red’s place at that point?” Josie asked.

He nodded, worry lines deeply etched into his forehead. “I set up the camper about a mile behind Red’s, where it couldn’t be seen. Nobody went out there. I knew Red was too lazy to walk back there. He was supposed to be so prepared, but I was living behind his house. The bastard didn’t even know it. I walked around the back of Red’s house and saw him sitting at my picnic table. It took me a minute to figure it out. It was a dark morning, overcast. It actually looked like it might rain. I thought he was sitting at the picnic table having breakfast. Maybe taking advantage of the break in the weather. Then I saw him with his camera. She was getting ready for a shower. She had the lights on inside.”

Kenny stopped talking and placed the heels of his hands into his eyes as if to stop the images. Givens frowned and looked at Josie as if the depravity in the world would never cease to amaze him.

“He stood up from the picnic table, held his camera up to his face, twisted that lens, slinking around the trees like some private dick. Not even eight o’clock in the morning! The guy was a sick bastard.”

“He didn’t notice you standing behind him?” Josie asked.

“He was oblivious. I put the gun to the back of his head. He never said a word, just lowered the camera. We stood there in silence and watched her walk into the bathroom and shut the door. She had the windows open, the curtains pulled back. I had to watch my own sister walk in front of the damn window with no clothes on. We watched the door shut and I dropped the gun. I told him what a sick pervert he was.”

Kenny stopped talking and stared at his hands on the table, his eyes suddenly distant with memory.

“I was finally getting it together for us. I had a job lined up in New Orleans. A good one, before this happened.”

He paused again, and then looked at Givens, who told him to finish his statement. No reason for censure at that point.

“I only put the gun to his head to scare him. I wanted to scare him bad, but I didn’t intend to shoot him. That’s the crazy part. But he turned around and faced me! He started telling me she liked it! He said she knew he was standing outside her window. That’s why she kept the curtains open. She walked around naked for him because she liked it!”

He looked at Josie, his expression full of rage and confusion, something other than regret.

“I threw the first punch. He didn’t even bother to punch back—he grabbed for the gun in his front pocket. I saw the handle grip as he reached, and I knew it was him or me, so I brought the gun up and shot. There wasn’t even time to think. It was an instinct, my life or that sick bastard’s.”

“There wasn’t a gun on Red when we found him.”

“I took it with me. It was in the trailer with the rest of the guns.”

“Why did you move the body?” Josie asked.

“I was angry with Pegasus for being so stupid. I wanted to teach her a lesson. Here she was, flaunting around naked in front of windows with no curtains so a pervert like Red could—”

Josie waited a moment for him to finish. When he didn’t, she asked, “So you waited until she fell asleep, and then moved him on her couch to teach her a lesson?”

“She thinks she’s street smart. She talks like she’s been around the block, but here she was, letting this pervert get his porn for free outside her window. She stood there bare assed in front of Red. So, I wanted to teach her a lesson. Look what happens when you leave your door wide open.”

“Does she know you shot Red?”

“I went to tell her what had happened, and found the door unlocked. I’ve told her, padlock it from the inside. I wanted to get her attention, so I got Red’s body over my shoulder and carried him into the trailer. Left him for her to find.”

“Again, does she know you shot Red?”

“She has no idea.”

“Where was she when you brought the body in?”

“The shower.”

Josie wasn’t sure she bought into the time frame. It had to have been a long shower for Kenny to have fought with Red, killed him, and positioned his body, all pretty noisy activities, while Pegasus was conveniently singing in the shower.

“How did the guns fit into this?”

“I didn’t even think about the guns until after it was over. After I left the body, I went back to Red’s house to find the pictures he said he had taken. I wanted them destroyed before the cops got there.” Kenny’s face looked gray as he shook another cigarette out of the pack on the table. “He had hundreds. Some blown up to eight-by-ten size and taped to his dresser mirror.”

“Did you search his house?”

He nodded. “His desk drawers, his bedroom, down in his gun cellar. He had them taped all over the walls down there. It was beyond belief. I found two shoe boxes with pictures. They looked like family pictures, but I didn’t have time to look, so I pulled the pictures off the walls and turned the faucet on to flood the place. I wanted it destroyed.”

“You knew the house from your association with Red as a Gunner?” Josie asked.

A flicker of surprise crossed his face, and he shrugged. “Yeah, I’d been in his house.”

“The guns?”

He tapped his cigarette repeatedly, starring at the coal on the end before finally stubbing it out. He finally said, “There were a couple hundred hanging from his living room wall. After what had just happened, it made sense. Steal the guns, sell them, and get us both the hell out of Dodge.”

“Were you going to sell them to the Mexicans?”

“A guy from the Medrano cartel somehow figured out I’d talked to Red’s connection with La Bestia. I met with La Bestia’s gun merchant once, but his offer was too low. An agent from the Medrano organization was supposed to meet me yesterday, but he never showed.”

Josie nodded, satisfied she had been the obstacle that had stopped the deal. Medrano’s last local connection was on his way to jail for murder.

* * *

After work that night, Josie stopped by Colt Goff’s apartment downtown. It was eight o’clock, and Colt invited her into the apartment. It had been cleaned, though it still smelled like stale cigarettes. Her hair had been cut, still spiked, but not so long. Josie thought she looked more put together, less defiant and angry.

A book, Mastering the SAT, was lying open on the couch. Josie pointed to it. “Going back to school?”

Colt grinned, her expression sheepish. “Maybe. I can’t stack books the rest of my life. I’m thinking about training to be a phlebotomist. I’ve been thinking about it for a long time. Seemed like a good time to make a change in my life.”

Chief Gray sat on the chair across from the couch and wished her well. “I just wanted to let you know we found out who killed your dad. I didn’t want you to hear about it from gossip on the street.” She took a deep breath and dreaded the moment. Colt nodded for her to continue. “It was Kenny Winning.”

Colt’s face drained of color, her expression changing from shock to denial and confusion. “That can’t be. I used to date Kenny! He would never do something like that.” She shook her head no repeatedly.

“It had nothing to do with you, Colt. Nothing to do with your relationship with Kenny. He claims he found your dad looking into his sister’s windows. Taking pictures of her. They got into a fight over it. Your dad reached for a gun, and Kenny fired first.”

“What will happen to him? To Kenny?”

“I don’t know. That’s not up to me. He was stupid, but I don’t think he planned any of it. That will help him some.”

“You know the Gunners is why we broke up? I couldn’t handle the whole gun thing. I told Kenny no good can come from them. He thought I was just making some statement because I hated my dad.” She paused and stared at Josie for a moment. “And look what happens.”

Colt slumped back onto the couch, her face slack and lifeless. “Is it true? Did my dad—?”

Josie nodded, wishing she could protect her from the truth, but knowing the story would be front page in the newspaper by the next day. “I’ve seen the pictures. They came from your dad’s camera.”

Tears began rolling down Colt’s face, but her hands remained limp in her lap. She looked as if all the strength in her body had been drained.

Josie stood from the chair and sat beside Colt on the couch. She pulled the girl into her chest and wrapped her arms around her. Colt’s weak body began to shake, and the tears came for a long time. Josie knew the girl had no one. No family, no boyfriend to call on. Josie’s job made it painfully aware to her how alone and lonely so many people were.

After some time, Colt pulled away. She stood up and went into the bathroom and washed her face. When she returned, she’d pulled herself together somewhat.

“You can’t let this derail you.” Josie pointed to the study guide. “You’re on the right track. You deserve better than what you’ve gotten so far in life.”

“I get what you’re saying, but what good does that do me? Lots of people deserve better.”

“I believe, in the end, people get what they give. If you give hate and grief to people, it’s what you get back in return. I see it every day. That’s not who you are, though. I’m a pretty good read of people. You stay true to who you are, and someday you’ll find your peace.”

Colt considered her for a long moment. “Have you found yours?”

Josie looked at her. “I’m still trying. I’ll get there one of these days.”

* * *

On her way home that night, Josie received a phone call from Lou asking her to drop by the department. The sheriff had left a present for her. As Josie got out of her jeep, she saw two metal cages on the sidewalk by the front door of the police department. Lou was bent over one of them, poking her finger through the cage. She stood up, smiling wide, when Josie stepped onto the sidewalk.

“What’s up?”

Lou said, “Sheriff thought you needed these.”

Josie frowned, shook her head no. “Why would he think I need roosters?”

“They came from Hack Bloster’s place. He’s in jail now. Somebody’s got to take them. Sheriff thought you’d be perfect.”

“I don’t know anything about raising chickens!”

“They’re roosters.”

“Lou! I don’t know anything about chickens or roosters. Where would I put them?”

“I already called Dell. He said he’d make you a chicken coop.” Lou bent down again and put her finger through the cage to ruffle a feather. “Pretty, aren’t they?”

Josie sighed and bent down. They were beautiful animals. The fluffed-up feathers were a deep rusty color that reminded her of the streaks of red that ran through the mountains behind her house. Both of them strutted around their cages, sticking their necks out, needing a spot to roam. Lou and Josie stood and loaded the cages into her jeep.

Lou pointed to its back end, now riddled with bullet holes from the trip down the arroyo. “When you going to get your car fixed?” Lou asked.

“Let’s just get through one day at a time.”