Firebreak (Josie Gray Mysteries #4)(24)

Angela finally turned to Josie and nodded her head as if she’d thought of a good one.

“Okay. Hank always has me deliver the band a round of drinks, on him, before they go onstage. One night I went back to the dressing room, and the door was partway open. I stood outside with the tray and a couple whiskeys for Billy. I was about to holler for him when I heard her literally yelling at him for wearing the wrong shirt and jeans. She was like, ‘I laid out your clothes on the bed. You have an image, Billy, and this isn’t it. This is soft. You look sloppy and soft.’” Angela laughed, her eyes wide at the memory. “I kicked the door with my foot and walked on in so she knew I’d heard what she’d said. She’s such a witch.”

“Did she say anything to you?”

“She didn’t care. She just glared until I left. Didn’t thank me for the drinks, either.”

“Do you think they both left town together, after Billy got his guitar?”

She looked surprised at the question. “I don’t know why they wouldn’t have. That’s why they stopped at the bar. Billy wanted his guitar before they left town.”

“Do you think Billy could have gone back home, and Brenda left without him?”

Angela exhaled heavily, as if she was irritated by the question. “He’s her meal ticket. She wouldn’t go to Austin without him.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean she treats him like he’s six. Tells him what to do. She’d be afraid he’d screw something up without her telling him every move to make.”

“If she treats him so bad, why does he stay?” Josie asked.

She laughed. “Everybody at the Hell-Bent wonders the exact same thing.”

“Do you have any idea who Billy’s closest friends are? Maybe the band members?”

“Without a doubt, Slim Jim, his drummer, is his best friend. They grew up together in Alpine.”

“Jim Saxon?”

She stubbed her cigarette out and stood. “Everybody knows Slim Jim. You want the dirt on Brenda Nix, go see Slim. He’ll give you an earful.”

*

Jim Saxon lived on the western edge of the county, just a mile north of the Rio Grande, in a house trailer sided with weathered gray boards and covered by an open shelter house that shielded the trailer from the brutal desert sun. The forecast for the day was 106 degrees down by the river, and she had no doubt it had been reached.

Most everyone in Artemis knew Slim Jim, either by reputation as a whiskey-belting, hard-living son of a bitch, or as a man thoroughly dedicated to improving life along the river. The trailer sat fifty feet back from a creek that fed into the Rio. Between his trailer and the creek was a garden that rivaled anything Josie had seen growing in the much milder Indiana summers of her youth. With a greenhouse off to the side of the garden that had been pieced together with cast-off windows, doors, and wood, much of it from the county dump, Jim made plants grow that others said couldn’t be grown in West Texas. The garden was a thing of beauty, and the bounty fed anyone needing the extra rations.

Josie parked her jeep in front of the trailer and knocked on the front door. When no one answered she walked around the garden and greenhouse. Finding no one home, she dialed Angela’s cell phone and asked if she had any idea where Jim might be.

Angela was quiet for a moment and then cursed. “I wasn’t thinking. I know where he is. The kids are getting ready for the state-fair competition. He’s at the high school. They have that maniac teaching high school kids how to play drums.”

*

Josie left Jim’s house and drove back toward town. On her way she called Otto for an update.

“Did Cowan find any identification?”

“No. The clothing on his backside where he was lying on the couch is somewhat intact, but there wasn’t a wallet or any ID on him.”

“Age of the body?”

“Cowan said he’s older than twenty-five, and younger than fifty, based on what he could tell by his teeth. Billy’s in his forties, so it doesn’t help us much.”

“How about height?”

“Cowan says five foot ten to six foot.”

“Billy’s at least six foot, don’t you think?” she asked.

“I know he’s taller than I am, and I’m five foot ten. Again, not much help. What about the timeline?”

“Angela confirmed what Hank said. She said they came in at five thirty and didn’t stay long. She also described Brenda as a ‘witch.’ Her word, not mine. Brenda tells Billy how it is, and he listens. No one can figure out why he puts up with it.”

“Unless he actually needs her.”

“For what?”

“Maybe he loves her. Maybe he likes someone telling him what to do. She’s his mother figure or some such Freudian thing. Maybe she has connections and he doesn’t.”

Josie acknowledged the point. “Love’s a strange thing.”

“What do you have for me?” he asked.

“It’s nearly four o’clock and still no return call from the Nixes,” she said. “Wouldn’t you think with a fire burning through town they’d keep their phones on and return calls?”

“I think we just keep working the time frame until we get a hit on the body. I’ll swing by the Morris ranch and see if the ranch hand can provide any more details on the timing for the fire. Meanwhile, Cowan ruled this a homicide and the body’s in transport.”