Full Circle (20 page)

"Sometimes I hate your job."

"Sometimes I do too, and I can't wait to get rid of it," Josie said with a sigh. "I'm not in any danger, Jack. If it is the person I think, it should be easy enough to find out. I'm going to go sic my guys on the suspect."

"I'm going to meet Buck down at Riley's place. "Are you going to be late—again?" he asked testily.

Josie wanted to sigh, but she didn't. "I know the last ten days have been crazy, but I can't help it. I have to interface with Agent Coulter when he needs my input. I can't turn him down. If I do, he may decide he doesn't need my help and force me out of the information loop."

Jack raked his hand through his hair that was growing long for the first time in twenty years. "I know, and I don't mean to be getting on your case, but if one more idiot reporter sticks a microphone in my face, you might be arresting me for assault. Meanwhile, I'm going to take you up on your offer of the second floor of the carriage-house. Even if the FBI releases the property, I don't want to go back out there for any reason."

"I can understand that. Call Jimmy, he'll help you get set up with whatever you need to make that space into an office for you. I'll be back as soon as possible."

"I'll paint over the graffiti again. I've already taken photos on my cell phone. I'll send them to your sheriff's e-mail."

Josie stretched up and kissed him. "Send them to Georgina with dirty little ditty's, she'll get a kick out of it."

"What's with her lately?" Jack asked.

"What do you mean?"

Jack made a V motion with his fingers over his chest. "Has she got a thing for Agent Coulter? If her tops get any lower, it won't be cleavage showing, it will be her bellybutton."

"Maybe she's got a thing for you," Josie teased and laughed when he looked horrified. "She's trying to get Deputy Gene Tucker's attention. With me working out of the town hall, some days I don't even touch base with her. I haven't paid much attention to what she's been wearing lately. I'll have another talk with her about appropriate office dress. We've had this talk before."

"Doesn't Clay like her?"

"He does," Josie admitted, "but Clay doesn't want trouble, and he thinks if he starts seeing Georgina there might be trouble."

"Because he's black, and she's white?" Jack asked thoughtfully. "I thought that issue was done and over with a while back."

"So did I, but racism still occasionally raises its nasty head around here. It's not up to me, but maybe I'll talk to Clay to see if he's interested and give him a gentle nudge in the right direction."

"That's not your style." Jack laughed. "Handle it like you do most things. Kick him in the ass!"

Agent Bill Coulter did the town of Rawlings a favor by announcing he was holding a news conference about the discovered bodies on the courthouse steps in Holbart, the Kiowa County seat. Like a pied piper, the strong enticement of gory details on a possible serial killer led a procession of media vans and reporters out of Rawlings to give the citizens at least one day of peace.

To the annoyance of the sheriff's department and many others in town, the mayor was right in the middle of the caravan heading north. Not many in Rawlings looked favorably on Mayor Aiden Roland's need to be on center stage at any chance or opportunity.

In her official capacity, Josie discretely notified her deputies to monitor Jolene Watson because she suspected Jolene was responsible for the graffiti on her garage. The words written on the backside of the carriage house were the same words, in the same order that had been screamed at her in Riley's bar. She instructed them to pull Jolene over at the slightest provocation or breaking of the law—as long as it was legal and would hold up in court. They were to check the back of Jolene's truck for spray cans of paint. If there was spray paint cans out in the open, they were subject to confiscation, and she would be brought in for questioning since there were two outstanding reports of vandalism on file.

Josie could not say she knew her nemesis, but she knew her type. Jolene Watson had always been a hothead with a mean temper—a bully when she could get away with it. Now she was showing signs of alcohol abuse and becoming a public nuisance. Maybe a charge of personal property damage might scare her into behaving herself or scare her out of town. It didn't take much to make bullies back off since they were essentially cowards. Josie had not backed down from Jolene and her posse of girlfriends when she was a kid, and she was not backing down now. She had worked too hard on her house to let a bad-tempered witch wreck it.

Josie stopped by the Food Rite on her way into the office to pick up a dozen donuts and several cans of coffee. She'd found out years ago that working in a male-dominated field was a lot easier if you kept male egos supplied with sugar and caffeine. Whatever worked, she thought, thinking of her last dust up with Aiden Roland. A Los Angeles movie producer had contacted the mayor who thought it was a good idea for the town to sign off on a movie script based on guesswork, conjecture and pure imagination. She had lambasted Aiden, telling him he was not going to use those poor unidentified victims to get his fifteen minutes of fame.

She knew their identities, but that information was not going to be released from her office. When the FBI decided to release the information, they would base it on their legal and departmental motivations.

Josie entered the sheriff's office trying to balance three heavy plastic grocery bags in one hand and a large bakery box in the other. She was barely through the door when one of the bags broke and coffee cans went rolling in several directions. Deputy Ray Leonard rescued the box of donuts while his fellow officer, Tyler Johnson, chased after the errant coffee cans.

"You have perfect timing," Georgina crooned. "I used the last of the coffee this morning."

Josie looked over at the dispatcher and blinked. "Georgina, did you forget something this morning?"

"Like what?"

"Like buttoning your shirt," Josie said, looking pointedly at an unbuttoned uniform shirt showing a good deal of cleavage—packed into a leopard-print bra.

"The air conditioner's on the blink," Georgina complained.

"Call a repairman," Josie said firmly. "That is a sheriff's department uniform. If you don't want to wear it properly, go home and change into civilian clothing."

"Well, what's got you in a snit this morning?" Georgina snapped.

"A lot of things, including putting up with insubordination this early in the morning," Josie said patiently and softly so the two nearby deputies wouldn't hear. "It was your idea to wear a uniform, Georgina. It isn't a requirement for your job. However, if you are going to wear it, you will wear it with the respect and the dignity it deserves. Am I clear?"

Georgina buttoned her uniform shirt. "Yes, ma'am," she mumbled. "But why does it have to be so drab?"

"Thank you," Josie said. "I think the uniforms are drab because it's men who usually pick them out." She raised her voice. "Ray, Tyler, don't you have scheduled duties to perform?"

Both young men grabbed their coffee and donuts and headed for the door.

When the door slammed, Georgina smiled tentatively. "I'm sorry, Josie."

"Me, too," Josie admitted. "I worked for a long time and put in a lot of hard work to earn the right to wear the uniform of a cop, so I get a bit prickly about it being disrespected. I've been out of touch, working out of the town hall. Is there anything going on over here that I should know about?"

Georgina shook her head. "The news conference at Hobart was announced for 11:00 a.m. Do you know anything about what Agent Coulter will say?"

Josie shook her head and headed for her office. "Have those FBI guys been giving you any grief?"

"Not since I told them I'm not their wife, secretary or maid, and if they wanted coffee, they'd better get off their asses and not only drink it, but learn to make it too," Georgina snapped out with an attitude.

Josie smiled. "How'd they take that?"

Georgina smirked. "I haven't done any coffee deliveries. How much longer are they going to be here?"

"They haven't told me," Josie admitted. "And before you ask, I put them here in our offices because I'm trying to keep the mayor and the town council out of their business. I jump all over you guys about keeping your mouths shut, but the gossip is out of control over there. Have you heard any updates on Charles Malone?"

"His brother, Jeffrey, left a message on the service last night. Charles is out of the coma, but the doctors have him heavily sedated for the pain, so he's not up for visitors. Jeffrey seems like a nice man, and he said the family appreciates our concern. He said he'd call when Charles feels up to receiving visitors."

"Good. If you have his number, give it to me. I'd like to talk to him personally," Josie offered.

The FBI news conference in Holbart was factual and brief. The only real news released was the formation of a coalition of FBI and Oklahoma State Police to continue working the case. For now, there were no suspects. They were still not releasing the names of the victims, to allow the families some privacy. Agent Coulter gave the statement at a podium surrounded by suited men and women, some of whom Josie recognized as having worked the site. There were several uniformed state policemen, but she knew that was for show. The actual state investigators would not be uniformed police officers.

Josie was glad for a quiet day. Jack called, wanting to meet for lunch, but she was buried, trying to locate reports for the upcoming inspection. The mayor had requested an extension, but they had denied his request. She was sure that Rawlings being the dumpsite for a serial killer had not helped in that matter. At this point, she was stuck. She could not evade or put off the issue any longer—she was ultimately responsible for the state inspection. She didn't know how long the FBI would continue using her offices, so she was gathering together the files she would need. All she could do was dive in and do her best. She was planning to recruit Deputy Clay Tucker into the fray. He had the most seniority in the sheriff's department, although he had never worked in a supervisory position.

One thing for sure, Josie groused after it took her nearly an hour to find the spreadsheets on arrests for the previous two years, her predecessor had not been good at organization. A knocking at her door brought her head up from the bottom drawer of a file cabinet.

"What?"

Georgina opened the door and stepped in, partially closing it behind her. "Deputy Tucker brought in Jolene Watson."

"On what charges," Josie asked.

"A slew of them," Georgina warned. "He pulled her over for speeding and running a red light in front of the middle school. She almost hit a kid, so he also cited her for reckless driving. He called it in a little while ago, but the incident has escalated. Jolene started screaming at him, claiming he was harassing her. She was using a lot of racial slurs. She was belligerent and when he asked her to get out of the car, she refused. He asked her three times, and when she still refused, he called for backup. Deputy Tyler Johnson was only a couple blocks away, so he went to assist. When he got there, Jolene was still yelling and refusing to take a Breathalyzer test."

"Please tell me Clay turned on his vehicle camera," Josie said, holding her breath.

Georgina smiled. "He did and so did Tyler once he got there. Clay also turned on his microphone, and I recorded the entire incident on the dispatch board. After Tyler explained for the umpteenth time that if she didn't take the Breathalyzer test she was automatically going to be arrested, she finally agreed to take it."

"What are the final charges?" Josie asked.

"The initial traffic violation of speeding in a school zone, reckless driving, verbal and racial harassment of a police officer, and—I'm not done yet," Georgina said. "I heard those nasty remarks myself and she should be ashamed! She blew twice the legal limit on the Breathalyzer, and there was an open bottle of gin on the car seat along with a marijuana joint in the ashtray. Also—get this—Tyler found a plastic bag with what he believes is crack cocaine lying right out in the open on the car seat. She's so drunk and hopped up on drugs, she's acting pure stupid. We'll tag the drugs in as evidence and get them couriered over to the county lab for verification. She's on the phone now calling her momma—probably telling her to get over here and bring a lawyer."

"That's fine. It's her legal right. However, since Clay brought her in intoxicated and with illegal substances, she will be processed at the county level. The drug charges take it out of our jurisdiction," Josie said.