Midnight Crossing (Josie Gray Mysteries #5)(19)

Otto jotted down a note and considered Josie for a second. “Delores and I talked about languages in South America this morning. Portuguese is the main language in Brazil. Maybe that’s the language barrier.”

“Except I think Brazilian Portuguese is fairly close to Spanish. I think the woman would recognize the basic questions we’ve been asking in Spanish.”

“All right. I’ll check missing persons in Brazil,” he said, “but a pair of boots is hardly a lead.”

“It’s all we have right now. Can you call one of the nurses at the trauma center? See if they’ll check with the translator about the Portuguese/Spanish language issue.”

“Will do.”

*

Josie sent Jimmy Dixon a quick email and asked him to look specifically into human trafficking intelligence from Brazil with a connection to West Texas. She worked through a pile of return calls and emails and set out for Selena’s Cuts at 4:58, knowing Selena closed her shop at five on weekdays.

Selena Rocha was a tall woman with long legs, deep blue eyes, and satiny black hair. When Josie pushed open the door to the salon Selena was bent over at the waist, pulling a brush through her hair. The black mass was so long that the tips grazed the floor. When Selena heard the door open she stood and flipped her hair up and back to let it fall around her face.

Selena gave Josie the once-over and seemed to quickly deduce that Josie hadn’t come into her salon in a police uniform to have her hair styled. She pursed her lips into a thoughtful pouty expression.

Josie knew Selena from the trouble she’d experienced earlier that year when the salon opened. Several anonymous complaints were filed against her. One woman left a message on the department hotline about lewd and lascivious conduct taking place at the salon. Josie had talked with Selena and felt confident nothing illegal was happening. No doubt there were men who left their barbers for the new woman with the long legs, but it wasn’t a crime.

Josie held her hand out and Selena shook it, still pouting.

“How are you, Selena?”

“I’m well, and you?”

“I’m doing okay. I have a few questions, if you have just a minute.”

Two middle-aged women who appeared to work at the salon poked their heads out from a curtain at the back of the salon that hid a stockroom. One of the women said, “We’re leaving now. Okay?”

Selena waved. “See you tomorrow. Lock the door behind you.” Her speech was heavily accented and her voice low-pitched—the kind of voice that commanded authority. She pointed to the plastic chairs in the waiting area and they took seats next to each other.

“Do I remember right that you moved here from South America?” Josie asked.

Selena raised her eyebrows in response and Josie noticed their perfect arch.

“Yes. I came from Venezuela. I’ve been in Texas almost two years now and came to Artemis just a year ago,” she said.

Josie nodded. “That’s what I thought. I’m hoping you can give me your perspective on a current investigation we’re working on. A young woman was found shot to death early this morning. Another woman was found hiding nearby. She’s in shock and hasn’t said a word.”

“You think they’re from Venezuela?”

“We’re not sure. We’re investigating a possible human trafficking connection. They aren’t from the area, and we’ve not been able to match them to a missing persons database for the surrounding areas.”

Selena looked confused. “You want me to translate?”

“We have a Spanish translator, but we can’t get the survivor to talk. Honestly, we don’t know what language the woman even speaks. Until we have some background information, though, we’re lost. Let me be clear. I’m coming here because I’m grasping for anything right now, any kind of lead that could help us figure out who these women are.”

“Okay.”

“Typically, human trafficking cases we’re seeing are coming up through Latin America.”

Selena tilted her head back and made a guttural sound that startled Josie. “Let me get this right. Because I perform licensed massages you’ve made the leap to massage parlor, which makes you think those women were coming to Artemis to work for me.”

Josie shook her head. “No.”

“Now I have a human trafficking ring running through my salon? Did some old biddy tell you that too?”

Josie raised both of her hands in the air. “No, Selena, that’s not—”

“Because I thought we were beyond this. I thought we’d all grown up a little and decided it’s okay to touch someone without being labeled a prostitute.” Her accent became even more pronounced as her anger intensified.

Josie hadn’t anticipated her reaction. “No one has complained. And no one is calling you a prostitute. I’m here because I’m trying to help find justice for these women. You’ve recently moved here from South America. You may have information that the police aren’t aware of. Even if it’s rumor. At this point, we’ll take any lead we can get.”

“So now every country in South America is the same? That’s such an American attitude about the world.”

Josie sighed openly. “Selena, I’m sorry. I’m not handling my questions well. Of course I realize Venezuela is quite different from other countries in South America. But you traveled to the U.S. from far away, facing all kinds of obstacles that I can’t know about. You may have a better understanding about what this woman has gone through than I do. It seemed reasonable to ask you if you’d heard anything around town about women traveling through the area. I certainly didn’t mean to offend you.”