He jerked his head back. “What?”
“I accused his wife of something. And he views that as breach of contract.”
“How can he get away with that kind of crap? Why do people keep voting that ass into office?”
Josie shook her head slowly. “He’s all we’ve got. No one runs against him.”
Dell seemed to have caught what she had said. “What’d his wife do? I thought she was an uppity-up. A big senator’s daughter, helper to the poor. All that nonsense.”
“She may be an uppity-up, but I’m not so sure about a helper to the poor.”
Dell motioned out into the walkway between the horse stalls. Josie sat on a bale of straw while he leaned against one of the stalls with an angry expression on his face. “What did she do?”
Josie didn’t hesitate to tell Dell. Confidentiality was critical, but so was sanity, and Dell had been a trustworthy confidant for years.
She described how Josh Mooney and Ryan Needleman had transported five women up from Central America based on the orders of Caroline Moss. She also described how a haul of five women could net Caroline fifty thousand dollars’ profit if all went well.
“What are you going to do about it?” he asked.
“That’s why I’m here.”
He grinned. “I’m ready.”
“You don’t even know what I’m going to say.”
“I know enough. Let’s go kick some ass.”
She laughed at the wicked look in his eyes. “It’s a good thing I’m a cop and not a criminal.”
“What do you have in mind?”
“I need to get some legwork done, then I’ll fill you in. We’ll leave first thing in the morning if things come together.”
“I thought you were suspended from the case.”
“We’ll leave quietly.”
*
It was almost nine o’clock when Josie and Chester walked back down the lane from Dell’s place. The temperature had dropped into the lower seventies and Chester was loving the cool weather, tracking scents from bush to bush, zigzagging through the pasture in bloodhound nirvana.
Josie pulled out her cell phone and dialed Sheriff Roy Martinez’s number.
“You hanging in there?” he asked.
“I’ve seen better days,” she said. “Sorry to call you so late at home.”
“Not a problem, you know that.”
“Thanks, Roy.”
“Anything you need, you name it.”
“It’s sort of a big one.”
“Bring it on.”
“I need to talk to Josh Mooney.”
He laughed. “That’s a big one. The mayor called me this afternoon to make it clear you were off-limits at the jail.”
“I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t sure Caroline was all over this. I need to put that woman out of business.”
“I’m thinking we never had this conversation.”
Josie said nothing, hoping the silence on the other end of the phone was a good sign.
“Meet me at the prisoner entrance to the jail in twenty minutes. I’ll see what I can do.”
*
Josie drove her S-10 pickup truck and parked in the back lot, which at nine o’clock was empty aside from two pool cars and the sheriff’s SUV. Roy waved to her and she entered, feeling uneasy about the situation she was putting Roy in.
“I appreciate this,” she said.
He patted her on the back and pointed to a small unused office space that connected to the kitchen, deserted at that time of night.
“I put the fear of hard time into Josh Mooney,” Roy said. “After sitting in that cell for two days it didn’t take much. He’s ready to talk.”
“His attorney?”
“He didn’t want one. Josh thinks he’s got this all figured out. Thinks he’s a wise guy, smarter than the rest of us. We’re just going to leave it at that.”
“The perfect criminal.”
“The prosecutor’s dream boy,” Roy said, laughing and shaking his head.
“Excellent. Give me ten minutes. That’s all I need.”
The sheriff opened the door of the office and she found Josh sitting in an orange jumpsuit, his hands lying limp in his lap, the handcuffs dangling on his thin wrists like bangles. His bleached hair looked oily and he smelled of body odor, like he hadn’t showered in a week.
“Got yourself in a real mess,” she said.
“Like I don’t know that?”
“I’m glad you’re clear on that. Then I’ll get right to the important stuff. I need to know exactly where it was that you were supposed to deliver those women. I need the address and the contact person.”
He gave her a vacant look, but she knew his brain was spinning at warp speed.
“What if I tell you? Can you help me?”
“What if you don’t tell me? Not a chance in hell that I’ll help you.”
He lifted his hands a few inches off his lap and dropped them, the handcuffs clinking. “I just feel like I should get something for being good. You get things in jail for good behavior. That’s what I want.”