The Territory: A Novel (33 page)

“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?”