Firebreak (Josie Gray Mysteries #4)(37)
Finally, they moved up to the opening and she realized it was going to happen. She was strapped in and facing a three-mile fall from the sky, the earth impossibly small beneath her. The next moment Pete was moving behind her, yelling something, and they were out the door, falling into a cushion of air, the wind roaring by, her mind full of everything and nothing all at the same moment. She clutched the harness at her chest but had the powerful sensation of needing to reach out and grab something. It was the sensation of falling. Her mouth was dry and her eyes watered under the goggles as warm air blasted her face. For brief moments she thought they were going to spin out of control all the way to the ground.
A moment later the parachute opened with a mighty jolt and everything slowed and quieted and a beautiful calm overcame her. Josie smiled and then laughed.
“Jump therapy, man. Nothing like it in the world,” Pete yelled.
She couldn’t get over how peaceful it was. Completely still.
They floated slowly toward earth and took in the grand landscape, the flat mesas and the knife’s-edge split into the rock that allowed the Rio Grande access to the towering Boquillas Canyon a thousand feet below. The sun was dipping below the horizon and the view from so high up looked fantastic. She took in the rugged mountains and the hundreds of miles of chocolate-brown rock and desert sand. And with a stunning moment of clarity, she realized, I only get one shot at being a part of this.
THIRTEEN
After the late-night drive from Big Bend left her with just a few hours of sleep, Josie got up early and drove to work at 6:30 with a task to complete. When she arrived in Artemis she drove down Seminole Street and pulled up in front of the Office of Abacus. A sign hung on the front door that simply read CLOSED, and provided a phone number to call Dillon Reese for further information. She left and drove through town, turning in to Dillon’s old neighborhood. She drove slowly by his house and scanned the street. Most homes were lit up with families getting ready for work and school, making the hectic last-minute push to get out the door on time. Dillon’s home was silent and empty.
Josie headed to the police department and parked in the space designated for the police chief. Instead of going inside, she walked across the street to the park bench in front of the courthouse and sat down.
Downtown was silent. It was a half hour before sunrise and too early for county employees and shop owners. She watched the stoplight complete a full rotation: green to yellow to red and back to green again without a single car driving by. She imagined Dillon driving to work in downtown St. Louis through the frantic streets with honking horns and people on every corner, all of it so different from the pace in Artemis. She tried to imagine herself driving to work in that kind of madness and the thought alone made her feel anxious.
Spreading her arms across the top of the bench, she leaned her head back to stare at the navy sky pinpricked with stars and a sliver of moon, already fading in preparation for the searing heat of the morning. She solved problems for a living, but recently her own life had felt like a twisted-up mess.
She thought about the jump with Pete the day before, and the idea he was trying to communicate to her, and she knew he was right. There was too much living for her to do to remain stuck in the past. It was over. There was no changing it or bringing Dillon back.
At seven o’clock, with the sun pushing up over the distant horizon, she stood and walked across the street to the police station. She had confronted her personal demons—or at least had started to. Now it was time to confront Brenda and Billy Nix.
*
Knowing there was nothing more to be gained by keeping the murder from the public, Josie drafted a media statement with the basic details of the homicide. She e-mailed Bev Woodruff, reporter for the local paper, as well as the manager for the Marfa public-radio station.
At 7:45 a.m. Josie called Brenda Nix at the motel and woke her. Josie explained that the police had new information that was critical to the case and asked that she and Billy come to the station as soon as possible. Brenda said she needed to consult her attorney and would call back.
A little before eight, just as Otto was stirring creamer into his coffee and discussing the list of questions he’d drawn up for the interview, Lou buzzed and said Brenda was on line one.
“This is Chief Gray.”
“This is Brenda Nix. Our attorney said she can be at the police department at eleven. We’ll see you then.”
“Who’s representing you?” Josie asked.
“Jenna Turner.”
Josie rolled her eyes and turned to Otto as she hung up the phone. “Turner’s representing her.”
“Isn’t she that hard-ass out of Presidio?”
“That’s the one.”
*
At precisely 11:00 a.m., Turner walked in with Brenda and Billy following behind her. It was clear the three had already met and prepared. Josie was certain that Turner was well informed about the case and knew as much as the Nixes could afford to tell her. Turner was hard on prosecutors and judges, but she was equally hard on her clients. She demanded the truth, and she’d been known to relinquish a case if a client held back pertinent information. Josie had watched her ream out a client in the hallway outside the Arroyo County courtroom just last month. The twenty-something-year-old kid had stood meekly in front of her, wearing his orange prison scrubs, saying nothing.
“You will not make a fool out of me again. Never again. You understand?”