Scratchgravel Road (21 page)

“We have some issues,” Cowan said. “Time of death has proven elusive.”

Otto asked, “What about the blowflies? I thought they identified time of death.”

Cowan nodded. “With the wet nature of the sores on the body, it wouldn’t surprise me if the blowflies were on him within an hour of death. The blowfly eggs were hatching into larvae when Josie found the body. It usually takes time for the body to decompose, but he was decomposing before he was dead.”

Otto winced at the thought.

“Judging by the decomposition of his body, the green and black marbling of his skin, and the insect larvae, I’m going to change my original estimate. At this point, I think he was killed Saturday night. Gauging the lividity, his body was transported several hours later and deposited in the desert late Saturday night, early Sunday morning.”

Otto nodded in appreciation. “Nice work, Cowan.”

Cowan frowned. “It’s not so easy. This whole case is troubling me.”

“How so?”

“After you called, first thing I did was go back to the internal organs. This wasn’t the body of a forty-year-old man. I found the intestinal track highly putrefied. The intestinal tract is always first to disintegrate, especially in high heat circumstances, but his entire GI tract was further decomposed than it should have been. The rest of his organs were more in line with the twenty-four-to-thirty-six-hour theory.”

“Can you translate that?”

“Something ate up his arms, and then ate up his digestive tract.”

Otto blew air out in frustration. “We’re all thinking radiation. The guy worked at the Feed Plant. Is that where you’re headed with this?”

Cowan placed his hand on the black plastic sheet covering the body, and then paused. “I’m putting him away for the night. Turn your head if you want.”

Otto walked over to the laundry tub and began taking his mask and gown off.

Cowan began preparing the body for the cooler as he talked. “That’s the angle that makes the most sense. But why his GI tract? If he’d had a massive dose of radiation and chemo he could have developed sores. Some cancer victims develop open wounds and they fester over a year before the body’s immune system can heal them. Conceivably, radiation or chemo could have caused the sores on his arms and head. But I saw no evidence of cancer.”

“That’s not what I was getting at. Could he have picked up that kind of radiation exposure at the cleanup site?”

Cowan eyed Otto over his reading glasses, then rolled the metal gurney and body over to the freezer. “I know what you were getting at. I can’t answer it, though. I don’t have any idea what kind of radiation might be leaking out at that plant. I find it highly unlikely it caused the sores on this man’s arms, though. My opinion is that it would take a prescribed, intensive, and malicious intent to cause the sores on this man’s arms.”

“Cause of death?” Otto asked.

“I’m just not ready to commit. There are three distinct traumas. The exterior sores, the GI tract, and the blow to the head. I’m not able to piece together how they are related.”

“
If
they’re related,” Otto said.

“Obviously, I’m no expert in radiation poisoning. I’ll be contacting the Centers for Disease Control in the morning.” Cowan peeled his latex gloves off and dropped them in a hazardous waste container.

*   *   *

Otto left Cowan’s office at the Arroyo County Jail and stood outside for a long while before entering his jeep to drive home. The case was a mix of barely related details. The victim worked at a nuclear weapons plant that was in the process of being dismantled. A handful of people in the entire nation took part in that kind of specialized cleanup, so who knew if the plant employees were providing good information. The man had been knocked unconscious by a blow to the back of the head, but more than likely he had been killed by some horrendous sores that the coroner couldn’t identify on the man’s arms. Were the sores caused by radiation from the plant, or by some unidentified virus infecting everyone who came in contact with the victim? To top it all off, the coroner just said that his digestive tract was disintegrated as well. And, how had the man’s wallet, empty of ID but containing cash, been found in Cassidy Harper’s beat-up car on the side of Scratchgravel Road?

THIRTEEN

By ten o’clock that night Josie and Teresa were both sitting in T-shirts and shorts on Teresa’s bed playing gin rummy with a well-worn deck that Teresa had taken from her dad’s apartment. They had relaxed into one another’s company and were both enjoying what had started out seeming like an endless night.

Josie laid an ace of spades in the middle of their rows of cards. “What do you see yourself doing after you graduate high school?”

Teresa rested the cards in her lap and shrugged.

“You’re young. You have plenty of time,” Josie said. “Just find something other than law enforcement.”

“I want out of here. I want to live in a city, away from the desert. Somewhere nobody knows me.”

“Don’t you have something in school you love to do?” Josie asked. “A hobby?”

Teresa looked at Josie for a moment too long and she could tell Teresa was struggling with something she wanted to say. Josie laid her cards on the bed, ready to listen.

Someone knocked on the door and a woman said something in Spanish, her voice urgent but unclear.

Josie and Teresa looked at each other, confused. It was after ten o’clock and the nuns locked up the church at nine.

Josie stood from the bed and automatically looked for her gun, then remembered she hadn’t brought it.

The woman spoke again in a hoarse whisper, still banging on the door frantically. There was no peephole in the ancient door. Josie motioned Teresa to stand against the wall so she would be hidden behind the door when it opened. The girl looked terrified.

When Josie opened the door, Sister Agnes rushed inside. She wore a full-length white nightgown and her short gray hair was tousled. She stood in front of the door for a moment and took a long stilling breath. In a much calmer voice she gestured toward the door and said something in Spanish.

“No hablo Española,” Josie said, and looked to Teresa, who was fluent. Her face had gone pale. “What is she saying?”

“She says the Federales are here. They’ve come to take us out of the city.”

“Why?”

Teresa shook her head no and Josie feared she would go into shock.

“Teresa! Ask the nun why they want to take us! What have we done?”

The nun walked over to Teresa, who still stood with her back against the wall. The nun put her hands out and held both of Teresa’s hands in her own. She spoke slower and Teresa nodded, calming down some.

“She doesn’t know anything. There’s a Federales van behind the church, waiting. She wants us to go now before there’s trouble.”

“Tell her I have to talk to Sergio.”

The nun pointed to their bags on the floor and spoke rapidly.

Teresa said, “She says go now. We can’t make them wait or they’ll enter. She doesn’t want attention drawn to the church.”

Josie felt the blood rushing to her face and knew she needed to keep her calm. They had no choice. They threw their belongings into their backpacks and followed the nun across the courtyard and through the front doors of the church. They walked quickly down the center of the darkened sanctuary. The pews were barely visible from oil lamps lit on the altar. The nun slowed slightly and spoke, then stretched her hand out to Teresa. She motioned for Josie to hold Teresa’s other hand and opened a door behind the altar.

“She says it’s dark. To hang on to my hand and trust her.”

Holding hands, they were plunged into complete darkness. The hallway smelled damp and musty and the floor turned to a ramp sloping downward. They walked slowly; the only sounds were their footsteps and the nun’s reassuring whispers. Josie realized Sister Agnes had made this night trip before, and she wondered if the nun had imagined herself living a life of danger when she took her vows.

Josie ran into Teresa, who had stopped suddenly. They listened as the nun jiggled a metal key into a padlock, opened it, and then finally pushed a heavy wooden door open into the night. In front of them were three grim-faced men wearing black SWAT-style Federales uniforms. They spoke quickly to the nun, then grabbed Josie and Teresa roughly by the arms and pulled them to the back of the van where they were shoved inside and the doors were closed. In less than a minute they were moving down the road, and Josie and Teresa were sitting on the floor of a cargo van with no idea where they were going or why. Josie reached out and grabbed Teresa’s hand and the two sat in silence.

*   *   *

After a fifteen-minute ride, with no explanation from the officers, the vehicle slowed and Josie felt Teresa’s grip on her hand tighten. They listened as the men talked quietly in the front of the van, but Teresa couldn’t hear their conversation enough to translate. Josie thought they were headed northwest but there were no windows in the back of the van and she wasn’t able to hear other cars.

Once the van stopped the rear doors were yanked open and two officers pulled Josie and Teresa from the back. Once they were standing on the side of the road, the men slammed the back doors, said nothing more, turned, and got back in the van. Teresa began yelling as the van completed a U-turn and started back the way they had come. Josie grabbed her, wrapped her in a tight hug, and finally placed a hand over her mouth to get her to calm down.

“Stop. Teresa, you have to quit. There may be houses we can’t see.”

Teresa finally calmed somewhat and Josie tried to get her bearings. It was almost impossible. The sky was covered in clouds: the night was completely dark.

“Just stand here a minute. I need a sense for where we are.”

Teresa began to cry, and Josie found her patience wearing thin. At that point, she had no desire to comfort the girl. She was exhausted and frightened herself, with no plan how to proceed.

Teresa grabbed her shoulder and Josie turned to see far-off headlights coming slowly down the road.

“What do we do?” The girl sounded terrified.

“Hold my hand.” She pulled Teresa across the road. “We’ll stay on this side so I can see the driver.” They felt their way down a slight embankment off the side of the road, but could feel nothing to hide behind.

“Just lie flat and keep your head down. Don’t do anything until I tell you to. If I tell you to run, you get up and run straight out into the desert. You run like hell for as far as you can. Then find something to hide behind until daybreak. Just don’t run until I say so. Got it?”

Teresa murmured yes and lay flat, her hands under her face to keep the sand from her eyes.

Flat on her stomach, Josie watched as the car approached. All she could see were the headlights until the car rolled past them with the windows open. The interior light of the car was on and Josie recognized Sergio. She leaped up from her position and yelled his name. The car stopped and Josie and Teresa ran to it. Josie climbed in the front, Teresa in the rear, and Sergio sped off.

“Everyone all right? Teresa, you’re okay?” Sergio asked. His voice was taut with stress and he reached an arm out to Josie’s shoulder.

Teresa wasn’t talking and Josie turned around. She shook her head yes, and fell into a slump against the backseat.

“We’re okay. But I have no idea what just happened back there,” Josie said.

“It was paranoia, nothing more. One of my fellow officers checked on the church this afternoon. A routine stop. One of the nuns told him who you were and he went straight to our commander. I am sorry to say, your name is connected with Medrano. He was afraid the Medrano cartel would find out you were staying in the church and take revenge.” In the dim light from the dashboard, Josie saw Sergio turn toward her, his expression full of sorrow. “He ordered you out of the city.”

His words stung. It was a terrible thing to hear as someone who had spent her life trying to uphold the law. When the Medrano cartel had invaded Artemis last year, and she had killed members of the clan in a battle for territory, she had lost her ability to move freely in Mexico.

“We live our lives preparing for disaster, trying to avoid it,” he said.

Josie nodded. She understood but it didn’t ease the sting.

“It isn’t you. It’s the idea there could be trouble. We’ve made some improvements in the city since the blowup in Artemis, but we can’t afford to risk anything. Yes?”

“What do we do now?”

Sergio looked at her again and smiled. “We drive to Juarez. I’ve already arranged your crossing and there’s a rental car waiting in El Paso. It will be two in the morning before we get there. It will be a long night.”

FOURTEEN

The metal roof on Mitchell Cowan’s one-story ranch home thrummed over his bed as he lay staring at the ceiling, imagining the black swirling clouds above him. The rain had started again sometime during the night, and he had awoken to booming thunder at 5
A.M.
He rolled over and felt around in the general vicinity of his night table until he found the pull switch for the lamp. He sat up and arranged his pillows behind him, put his reading glasses on, and then opened the book he had started the night before.

Before leaving work that night Cowan had searched his professional library, and then drove home and pored through his extensive collection of books and scientific journals, gathering anything he could find concerning radiation poisoning. Having no wife or kids, he looked forward to a night spent deep in the pages of medical research—his favorite place to be.

At nine thirty he’d climbed into bed with a peanut butter and honey sandwich, milk, and a stack of books. At one in the morning, he finally forced himself to turn the light off. He thought he might have cracked the case. And it was a doozy.

In the book he was currently reading, he had found a fascinating story involving former Russian KGB leaders all related to some nasty business of poisoning a rogue agent who came too close to the truth. Cowan had no interest in the “truth” the young agent was attempting to expose, nor in the conspiracy theories being spun out in detail, but he was very interested in the man’s grisly death.