Midnight Crossing (6 page)

“That ought to be on every cop’s headstone,” Roy said. “He didn’t expect any major surprises.”

“I’m ready to transport,” Cowan said, ignoring Roy. “I’ve got a new body bag, better for decomposing bodies with fluid. But we’ll need to get her out to the hearse. Josie, can we load her into the back of your jeep?”

Josie winced.

“I got the department SUV. It’s bigger. We can put the seats down and drive it over here.” Roy looked at Cowan. “You sure that bag won’t bust?”

“It’s designed not to.”

Roy sighed and headed back to the road where his vehicle was parked. As they watched him walk away, they saw a vehicle flying down Schenck Road. Lit up by the other headlights, they recognized it to be Mayor Steve Moss’s black pickup truck as it pulled off onto the side of the road. Otto groaned beside Josie.

Moss walked quickly toward Josie and Otto. He glanced over at the body and then turned to Josie. “You find anything yet? Local newsies already got wind. They want a story.”

She pointed toward the body. “Just what I told you in my message. We’re ready to transport the body. Cowan will start on the autopsy today.”

“What did I tell you? You don’t take me serious, and what happens? A dead body in your backyard is what happens. What the hell is going on here, Josie?”

“That’s what we’re trying to find out, Mayor.”

He swore loudly. “Your phone message said two women? What the hell does that mean?”

“We found a second woman hiding on my front porch. She’s the reason we went looking in the pasture and found the body. She’s fine physically, but she’s not talking.”

“What are two women doing out here in the middle of nowhere? Hiding at your house?”

“The other woman hasn’t talked. I called the trauma center and they’re going to take her in, see if they can stabilize her so we can talk with her.”

He squinted at her. “Any ID on either one of them?”

“Nothing. We’re estimating they’re in their late teens or early twenties, and of Latin American origin.” She paused as he continued squinting at her. “Have you heard any other gossip about something going on in town?”

He scowled, looking at Josie as if he didn’t like what he saw. “This have something to do with your involvement with the Medrano Cartel?” he said, ignoring her question.

She looked at him dumbfounded. “I’m not involved with the Medranos. That’s a ridiculous thing to say.”

“Well, hell, yes, you are! Your boyfriend sure was!”

“Look. They committed a crime against Dillon that took place over a year ago. That doesn’t make me involved. Please don’t use that expression. And, no, I don’t think the two crimes are related. At this point, it’s safe to speculate that this could be an illegal immigration issue. Beyond that, when you talk to the media, tell them this is an ongoing investigation and the police aren’t ready to comment further.”

“You’d better be ready to answer some tough questions come tomorrow. The media’s going to be all over this. And they’re going to wonder how you’re involved with a dead girl beside your home and another hiding at your house.”

“I’ll call you later today with an update,” she said, turning from him. She crossed the crime scene tape, aware that she’d rather stand next to a corpse than her boss.

She heard Otto and the mayor talking for a few minutes and after the mayor left Otto approached her. “I don’t know what’s wrong with him. I’ve never understood his beef with you, other than you’re a female.”

“You think that’s true, that the media will want to know how I’m involved, since the murder took place next to my house?”

“I think it is if he plants that seed,” Otto said. “You think he hates you enough that he’d tarnish an investigation just to put you in a bad place?”

Josie thought about Otto’s question. It was hard to imagine the mayor would purposely mislead an investigation, but if he could turn the public against her, or cast doubt about her ability to lead the department, she had no doubt he’d do it.

*   *   *

With the body finally loaded into the hearse, Josie and Otto called Marta out to the front porch to discuss what they’d found.

“That poor girl. I suppose she’s been hiding out here for days, knowing her friend was lying alone in the pasture,” Marta said. “Makes you wonder what could have happened to make her so afraid to ask someone for help.”

Josie described the plastic bag she’d found the previous morning, but explained she’d not seen any other signs of someone hiding around her home.

“Has she spoken at all?” Otto asked.

“Not a word,” Marta said.

“Vie said they have a room ready for her,” Josie said. “Vie said her shift ends at eight this morning, so she’ll get her checked in.”

“Any ideas on what happens now?” Otto said. “She’s not a criminal. We can’t hold her.”

“I don’t know where she’d go. If she knew someone, she’d have found a way out of this mess days ago,” said Josie. “I’ll have a translator meet me at the trauma center as soon as Vie clears it. For now … Marta, I’d like you to get her settled into a bed there. Surely we can keep her for observation for a day or two.”

“I’ll start running missing persons reports,” Otto said.

“That’s good. I’ll finish up here and meet you at the office.”

FOUR

The trauma center in Artemis was equipped with a one-room surgical unit not typically seen in small towns along the border. The center was located in a building shared with the county health department. Emergency room doctors served the trauma center on rotation, and a federal grant had at least ensured that the facility could handle some of the increased violence the area had experienced over the past decade.

Marta pulled into the rear parking lot. It had been a quiet drive from Josie’s house into town. Marta had talked about her daughter’s first few weeks living away at college, trying to engage the woman in conversation, but she had remained quiet.

Marta opened the jeep door and walked around to the backseat to lead the young woman into the center. The woman was staring at Marta as if she had no idea what was happening to her.

Marta spoke to her in Spanish, explaining that the doctor needed to check her to make sure she was okay. The young woman’s eyes were wide and her mouth downturned into an exaggerated frown. Her arms were drawn up and crossed at her chest, as if she thought Marta was going to drag her out of the vehicle. Marta still had no idea if the woman spoke English or Spanish, so she alternated between the languages.

After several minutes the woman timidly put a foot onto the pavement and stepped out of the jeep. They walked slowly into the reception area, where a young female receptionist picked up the phone and waved a finger in the air for Marta to give her a minute.

A moment later, Vie Blessings, the trauma center head nurse, came bustling out from the nurse’s station in bright purple scrubs and neon green glasses. Her hair was short and spiked. Marta would have thought Vie’s vibrant personality would have frightened the young woman into retreating, but Vie came across as so incredibly competent that people just gave in to her. Marta had seen it before with great ER nurses; they could take control of anyone, from babies to crack addicts, all of them in crisis and needing help.

Vie wrapped her arm under the woman’s and took her in to the patient wing. She motioned with her head for Marta to follow.

“I’ve got a bed ready for her,” Vie said. “No sense processing paperwork if she can’t talk with us yet. Let’s just get her stable and feeling safe.”

*   *   *

Forty-five minutes later Vie was able to sit down with Marta.

“Obviously I’m not a psychiatrist,” said Vie, “but I’m quite sure she’s suffering from psychological trauma. I think she’ll need to be treated for acute stress disorder.”

“How is she physically?”

“Her vital signs are good. She’s dehydrated, but not severely. I’ll call Dr. Brazen, a psychiatrist out of Odessa, and see if he’ll pay us a visit later today to evaluate her. He has a good reputation for working with military personnel with PTSD.”

Marta looked at her watch. It was almost seven-thirty a.m.

Vie continued, “We’ll be lucky if we get him today. He’s a busy man.”

“The other problem is a possible language barrier,” Marta said.

Vie sighed. “For now, we have her stabilized. I’ll give her a sedative to help her sleep this morning. We may be surprised what a meal and hydration and a bed might do for her by late afternoon.”

“I’ll post outside her room. Until we have a better handle on the investigation we’ll work with the sheriff’s department to have someone here with you.”

Vie patted Marta’s arm. “I’d appreciate that. Let’s get you set up in the hallway.”

As they walked down the hallway Marta said, “I keep thinking about Teresa. She’s not that much younger than that poor woman in there. I can’t help thinking our lives are just one bad decision away from tragedy. I just wish I could get Teresa to think that way.”

Vie smiled. “Come on, Marta. You were young once too. If we all second-guessed every decision we made in our youth we’d never leave home and experience the world.”

Marta pointed back toward the patient room. “Leaving home isn’t always a good thing.”

*   *   *

At nine o’clock that morning Josie walked into the office at the police department and found Otto typing something into his computer, his phone pressed between his ear and shoulder. Josie’s desk was full of paperwork and pink “While you were out” messages. She wondered how many were checked “Urgent,” and felt a weariness settle into her bones. In her mid-thirties now, she’d noticed working a twenty-four-hour shift affected her differently than it had ten years ago. The adrenaline surge didn’t last as long as it used to.

Josie filled her coffee cup from the pot at the back of the office and sat down at her desk. She found a package of cheese crackers in a drawer and opened them for breakfast.

Otto hung up and scowled as he turned to face her.

“Nothing. No leads on two young women missing over the past week. At least not in the surrounding areas. Cowan called and said he’s already entered information into the NamUs system from the Department of Justice.”

“That’s the unidentified persons database?”

“Yep. No hits. I checked Texas missing persons and a few other databases.”

“You checked Piedra Labrada?”

“Nothing connects with anything that’s happened in the past week. I’ll expand the search parameters.” He took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes. “How’s the other woman doing?”

“Marta just called with an update. The woman’s still not said a word. Vie said she’ll call a psychiatrist from Odessa to come talk with her later today, after she’s had some sleep. And on my way over here I called Ms. Beacon to see if she’d meet me at the trauma center later today to translate.”

The phone on Josie’s desk buzzed and Lou said, “Mayor’s on his way up.”

Josie leaned her head back and looked at the ceiling. “Otto. I do not have the patience for him right now.”

“Pick up your phone. I’ll deal with him.”

“You’re a saint.”

It was pathetic, but she blamed it on sleep deprivation and picked up her phone. She pressed the handset to her ear and turned from the door to face her computer monitor, eavesdropping on the conversation taking place behind her.

“Morning, Mayor,” Otto said.

“How the hell are you?” the mayor said.

Josie pressed her lips together in irritation. The mayor had never once in her career addressed her in such a casual, friendly manner. Generally, he greeted her with a disapproving nod of his head. She imagined he viewed their relationship as drill sergeant to lowly private. And it ticked her off.

She opened the drawing program on her computer and began entering measurements from her crime scene diagram. With the measurements in place, she’d be able to print a drawing to scale. Josie occasionally muttered yes or no into the phone, hoping the mayor would get a quick update on the investigation and leave.

“You keep me updated, you hear?” she heard him tell Otto.

“Yes, sir,” Otto said.

“Who’s she talking to?”

Josie heard Otto hesitate. “I’m not sure, Mayor. Can I give her a message for you?”

“Tell her Caroline’s sponsoring a tea for the women of Artemis to support her mission project. I expect Josie will want to attend. Tomorrow at six in the basement of the Methodist church.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll do that.”

“Tell her to invite her mom. I’m sure she’d enjoy the event. You take care, now.”

Josie listened to his boots clip-clop down the stairs and replaced the handset. “So now I’m required to support his wife’s charity work? That bastard infuriates me.”

“It’s not like he’s asking you to do something immoral. It’s a charity event.”

Josie’s eyes widened and Otto threw his hands in the air. “All right, all right. Just tell him you’re busy.”

“I have a murder to solve. I’m not worried about his wife’s latest do-good cause.”

“So send your mom. It’ll keep her occupied for the evening.”

*   *   *

Josie clocked off at ten a.m. to get a quick shower before returning for an eleven to seven-thirty shift. In order to get their shifts straightened out again, she would be back at work at eight the next morning. The swing shift was the worst. It would take her a day or so to get acclimated to the new sleeping schedule, and she had her mom visiting from Indiana, hoping to be entertained on Josie’s off hours.

Josie called her mom on the drive home to fill her in on the situation.

“What am I supposed to do tonight while you’re working?” she asked.

“Just hang out at the motel for tonight and get caught up on your sleep. Tomorrow, the mayor invited us to his wife’s charity event.” Josie winced as she said the words. She couldn’t believe she was using his summons to buy off her mother.

“At least that’s something.” She paused. “He’s married?”

Josie sighed. “Yes. Her name is Caroline. She’s a senator’s daughter with money. Her goal appears to be getting the mayor elected into the state senate, but so far, no luck.”

“That’s hard to believe. Seems like he’d be a great politician.”