The Territory: A Novel (29 page)

He turned from the window and faced her, his expression incredulous. “I had it taken care of! That’s what the Guard was for!”

“We didn’t need to wait for the Guard. We had a better solution available!” Josie said.

“I wasn’t going to request that a National Guard unit come all the way to our town, then turn around and send them away because you got a better deal somewhere else. We needed to at least make use of them for a day,” Moss said. “What happens next time we call for their help? They’d laugh us off.”

Otto looked at Josie and shook his head slowly, trying to signal her to keep her temper in check.

Josie’s voice dropped. She was so angry, her hands were shaking. “You’re telling me that you left four known assassins in our jail as a public relations move? You left them there so you wouldn’t look bad?”

Moss said nothing, but he stared at her as if turning her words over in his mind.

She went on. “It wasn’t just my life at stake. It was every one of the employees walking through that jail yesterday. You saw the catastrophe they sent down on that transport van yesterday. If we hadn’t moved those prisoners when we did, it’s hard telling what kind of disaster you’d be dealing with today.”

Moss shook his head and walked by Otto and Josie without a word. He slammed the door behind him, rattling the glass. They looked at each other, listening to his cowboy boots banging down the stairs.

“What do you do with information like that?” Otto said finally. “The people of this town ought to know the kind of yahoo they elected into office.”

“He operates inside the margins, but just barely.”

“You think he’s mixed up with Red’s death? With Medrano?”

“I don’t know.” Josie shook her head. “Here’s what bothers me, though. We know Deputy Bloster was cooking the books. He was submitting a vague expense summary directly to the commissioners. The sheriff provided Dillon a whole box of receipts and paperwork that Bloster had cooked, but before that, all those doctored receipts never left his own office. They didn’t have to. The commissioners never asked for them. The city police? We have to submit a detailed expense report with receipts attached. Is it that Moss hates me and wants to make my life miserable? He figures a good ole boy like Martínez would never screw the city? Or is Moss in on the scheme?”

FIFTEEN

Standing at the bathroom sink, putting on mascara, Pegasus was thinking about her brother. She wondered if he had left town and was thinking he was a son of a bitch for not calling her first, when she heard banging on the outside of the trailer by the living room door. She put her makeup down and grabbed the pistol she kept by her bedside table. She popped the magazine into the gun and advanced a bullet, then leaned against the wall in the kitchen to peer out the side of the curtains. She saw a man flattened against the side of the trailer beside the door and grinned. Kenny was checking out her response.

She yelled, “Step away from the door before I shoot a bullet through your head!” She unlocked the dead bolt, swung the door open, and pointed the gun toward Kenny’s head in one fluid motion.

He smiled widely. “Nice. Very nice. You win this round.”

He followed her inside the trailer. The air-conditioning had been running all day, and the temperature was almost cold. Kenny sighed and flopped on the recliner, staring at the empty space where the couch used to be.

“They have a Goodwill downtown. Stop by and tell them you’re looking for a couch. Tell Marie you’re my sister. She’s got connections around town. She’d probably get it delivered, knowing her.”

She nodded and threw an old bed pillow on the floor and sat on it, leaning her back against the living room wall. “So what’s the plan?” she asked.

“I want to take you out for lessons one more time before I hit the road. I think you’ll be okay. I got the word around town that you’re a badass. Somebody’ll think twice before coming out here and screwing with you.”

“Why do you want to draw attention to me? Nobody even knows I exist here.”

He laughed. “Red Goff laid out on your couch like a mortuary? Trust me. Everybody knows who you are and where you live. You’re either the joker’s right-hand girl, or they want to take you out for killing the desert’s last messiah. No in between out here in the sticks.”

“I don’t ask for this. This stuff just follows me around. You’re quick enough to stay two steps in front of it. Not me, though. I’m always knee deep in the sewage.”

“You hang out here where I know where you are. I got some guys keeping an eye on you, watching the trailer and the gas station.” He leaned to one side in the recliner and pulled his wallet out of his back jeans pocket. He took out a wad of cash. “There’s five hundred bucks there. I paid Drench your rent for the next six months. That ought to keep you floating until I get things settled.”

“What things?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“So, take me with you. Let me help.”

He stood. “Hide your money. Let’s go shoot.”

*   *   *

Josie paced the office after Moss left, thinking through the mayor’s actions and his response to her subterfuge, trying to determine if he was an idiot or a criminal. Otto got annoyed with her and left to buy a snack. She considered his remark about counseling and knew he was right. She had always thought a line-of-duty killing would be something she would attack rationally, break it down into pieces like any other problem. Once she examined the events leading up to the shooting, the act itself, and her actions afterwards, she would determine if the killing was justified. She would answer questions such as, Was it was necessary? Did it save another person’s life? Would she do it again in the same situation?

But that wasn’t how things were turning out. There would be an investigation by DPS into the shootings. She needed to get the details and facts straight in her mind. But she found herself numb to the details, as if she couldn’t feel anything. She wanted to feel guilt or anger or even shame, but she just felt empty.

She called Escobedo to check on the details of the prisoner transfer, and he said it was complete. Three of the prisoners had been housed in solitary confinement until their status could be evaluated. Gutiérrez was in the infirmary but would most likely be transferred out the next day.

She stood at the window, looking at the clear blue sky and wished she were outside, walking through the hills up into the ponderosa pine behind Dell’s place. She imagined the smell of mesquite and baked earth and could feel the heat on her skin. The intensity of the last week was catching up with her. She was exhausted and having a hard time maintaining focus. She walked to the back of the office for another cup of coffee.

After Otto returned, they sat at the conference table and ate packages of mini chocolate-covered doughnuts. To Josie, they tasted as if they were dipped in paraffin, but Otto loved them. He finished his own package and started on hers.

“Someone killed Red and laid him out on Winning’s couch. Why didn’t they just drop him in the dirt? What’s the connection to her?” she asked. “It’s gnawing away at me, and I can’t get past it.”

Otto dipped the last doughnut in a cup of steaming coffee, swearing as half of it dropped to the bottom of the cup. “If Medrano is the connection, who knows? Those people have a flair for the dramatic. You ever notice that? Beheadings, dead bodies hung off overpasses, body parts run up flagpoles. Maybe laying out Red’s body in her trailer was some kind of artsy statement.”

She looked at her watch. “It’s after six. Winning ought to be at work. I’m going to drive over there again.”

“You want me to ride along?”

“No. I just need to get a feel for it again. Someone shot Red, stole his guns, flooded his basement, and moved his body to look as if he’d been shot in Winning’s living room. The only thing that makes any sense to me concerning motive is someone wanted his route. Somebody wanted the connection to the Mexicans. Bloster makes more sense than anyone else, but he’s got an alibi. And I don’t see him moving the body.”

“You ever get his work schedule confirmed?” Otto asked.

“Winning came home at eight thirty in the morning. She went to bed, woke up at five
P.M.,
and found Red dead on her couch. Hack Bloster worked day shift that day. I’ve read the transcript for his radio contact with the dispatcher throughout the day. There were brief periods of time that he could have shot Red, but it seems unlikely. He’d have to have killed him, carried his dead body through the yard, and then positioned him in the trailer by himself, all while in uniform. It doesn’t feel right. Even if Hack killed Red, someone else was involved, too.”

*   *   *

Josie drove slowly down Winning’s lane, scoping out the deserted area. Other than Red’s place and Winning’s trailer, there wasn’t another house for miles. She pulled her jeep beside Winning’s black Eldorado and killed the engine. She scanned the area and saw no movement. The curtains were drawn on the trailer, and it appeared dark inside. Josie got out of her car and walked up to the trailer, tried the handle, found it locked, and was pleased Winning was taking precautions, although Josie couldn’t imagine whom the woman would leave with. She knew basically no one and was supposed to be at work.

She heard gunshots. A single, then three quick fires. Josie ran for her car, taking cover behind the front bumper. The shots were coming from Red’s place. Thirty seconds later, more shots in quick succession. Josie radioed Otto for backup, and then decided she would be less a target on foot than in the car. She ran down the line of pine trees that bordered the east side of the driveway. The shots were coming from behind the mound of dirt and bushes that covered the top of Red’s house. Easing slowly up the hill, her gun aimed and ready, the shots started again, two singles, then rapid fire. She had counted a total of ten shots, and assumed a magazine had been emptied.

Behind the thick stand of bushes she heard voices, a male and a female, laughing.

Inching closer, she found Pegasus Winning and the man she assumed was her brother, Kenny, target-shooting at paper plates duct-taped to a pile of scrap wood. Josie stood unnoticed for a few minutes, watching the two interact. It became obvious there was a shooting lesson being given. Kenny was taking the experience more seriously than Pegasus was.

Josie holstered her gun, approached them from behind, and yelled hello. Kenny Winning turned around in surprise tinged with something else: anger or panic, she couldn’t be sure.

“I’m Chief Josie Gray. And you are?”

He introduced himself but didn’t offer a handshake.

“So, you’re the elusive brother. How long have you been in town?” Josie asked.

“Couple days.”

“How long is a couple?”

“Two or three,” he said, shoving his pistol in his back pocket.

“Let’s narrow it down to an exact date. When did you arrive in Artemis?”

“What is this?” he asked.

“It’s a question, and I’d like an answer.”

“I don’t know. Tuesday, I think.”

“That’s funny. I talked to someone who saw you on Monday.”

He glared at her and pulled a bandanna from his back pocket to wipe the sweat out of his eyes. “Why’d you ask the question if you already had the answer?” he asked.

Winning rolled her eyes. “She’s talking smack, Kenny. She’s been looking for you all week. Don’t listen to this.”

Josie noticed the difference in her demeanor. She was tougher in front of her brother; she had always acted more bored with Josie.

Josie addressed Pegasus. “I think it’s the other way around. I’ve asked you about your brother several times. Each time you’ve denied he was here. Now it sounds like he’s been here since Monday. Why didn’t you just tell me if you weren’t trying to hide something?”

Pegasus took her ponytail down and angrily pulled her hair back again, getting the sweaty strands off her face. She started to speak, but Kenny interrupted her.

“You people kill me. Cops automatically assume the world should bare their collective soul to you at the asking. I got news: People aren’t aching to talk to you. That takes a little more trust than most people can give.”

“I really couldn’t care less about your soul, bared or otherwise. I’ve got a murder to solve and one awfully evasive suspect.”

“So, I’m a suspect now?”

“Until you can convince me otherwise.”

“What happened to—?”

Josie interrupted. “Innocent until proven guilty? I’ve heard it too many times to count. You give me an honest, straight-up answer, and I won’t have any reason to question your guilt.”

He stared at her and didn’t say a word.

She nodded, her face flushed with anger. “I’ll try this one more time. If you don’t want to be polite, I’ll handcuff you and take you down to the station, where I don’t have to be polite either. Puts us on a level playing field that way. So, here’s what I want from you.” She held a hand up in the air to tick each point off on a finger. “When did you arrive? What are you doing here? When are you leaving?”

“Tuesday. Visiting my sister. Tuesday.” He held his thumb up for the first answer, his first finger up for the second, and his middle finger up for the third. He smiled as he stood there, flipping her off.

“What was your relationship with Red Goff?”

“He was a cretin.”

“And?”

“He was a jerk. A pervert. I hated Pegasus living back here by him, and I’m glad he’s not around to harass her anymore.”

“Where were you last Sunday, the day Red was killed?” Josie asked.

“I was driving from New Orleans. I went down and stayed with friends for a while. I got a friend who can vouch I was still in New Orleans Sunday morning.”

“If you thought Red was so awful, why did you tell your sister to come up here, then leave her with no word on your whereabouts?”

“I got to make money. Can’t make it around this hellhole.”

“I thought you went to New Orleans to visit.”

“I went to N.O. for a lot of reasons. Pegasus is capable.”

“Is that why you’re out here teaching her how to shoot?”

“You bet it is. You got to be prepared.”

*   *   *