Midnight Crossing (Josie Gray Mysteries #5)(22)

“How long before we receive toxicology reports?”

“I’d expect two to four weeks.”

“Was there anything exceptional about the bullet wound?” Otto asked.

Cowan reached out to turn the body over and Otto put a hand out to stop him. “That’s not necessary. Just tell me your findings.”

Cowan smiled slightly and began pulling the plastic covering over the body. If Otto had been three decades younger, he would have thrown a punch at the man’s smirk. He couldn’t understand why Josie seemed to think so highly of Cowan. Otto found him arrogant and intolerable.

Once Cowan had replaced the body and washed up, he returned and opened his notes on the lab table. He described the time of death as the same as his initial assessment. “The bullet has been logged as evidence and it’s available for you to take. Same with her clothing and jewelry. Regarding the wound, it was just as expected. The trajectory was straight, and the wound is consistent with what you would expect from a shot fired from twenty-three feet away.” He paused and looked up at Otto. “Correct? The casing found at the scene was about that distance from the body?”

“That’s right.”

“Well, then. I’ve got the finger-and palm prints, dental X-rays, photographs, hair specimens, and so on. I’ll post a photograph of the victim’s face on the missing persons database and we’ll hope for a hit. For now, I’ll keep her in the freezer.” Cowan clasped his hands in front of him. “In my years here working in Arroyo County, we’ve only utilized the potter’s field a few times to bury an unidentified body. I certainly hope that won’t be the case with this young woman.”

*

When Otto left the coroner’s office at the county jail, he called Josie from the jeep. For late October, the temperature was still running hot, so he cranked the air conditioner. It had reached ninety-eight that afternoon and the relentless sun was making him irritable.

“You had supper yet?” he asked.

“Nope. But I could use some. I’m just leaving the hospital. Want to meet at the Hot Tamale?”

“I do.” Otto paused, knowing he was going to piss her off. “You want to swing by and grab your mother for dinner?”

She sighed into the phone. “It’s after six. She’s probably eaten.”

“Josie. She’s your mother.”

“Otto. I know that.”

Otto waited out the silence.

“Damn it. All right. I’ll stop by the motel. See you in a few.”

*

Manny’s Motel was a six-room establishment shaped like a strip mall, with all six doors opening toward the street. Manny’s office was located in the center of the building, with a green neon sign that hung crooked from the window. One afternoon Josie had stopped by with a question about an investigation and she’d asked him, “You want me to straighten up your sign for you?”

Manny had replied, “No, I like it that way. It’s not pretentious. It lets people know, Here’s a comfortable place where I can put my feet up and relax.”

Since then the crooked sign made her smile every time she noticed it. She thought how awkward it would look hanging straight in his window.

She found Manny sitting in a recliner behind the front desk reading a book. When he looked up, his expression was distraught. “What timing! She’s ten feet from opening the door and ruining the rest of her life. You couldn’t give me five more minutes?”

Josie laughed. “Then you’d need five more after that. Just get this over with and you can get back to your book.”

Manny groaned as he got up out of the chair and smiled when he reached the counter. “For you? I would toss the book into the trash. What can I do for you?”

“I’m here to check on my mom. Can you tell me what room she’s in?”

His lips drew down in a frown. “Did you have to ask? You know I will always put your mother in the best room in the motel. Right next to me, where I can make sure everything is to her complete satisfaction.”

“Room One?”

“You know it.”

“You’re the best,” she said, and walked out of the office, leaving Manny to his paperback.

Josie headed down the concrete walkway and knocked on the door to Room 1. Beverly Gray answered wearing three-inch-thick wedges, cutoff jean shorts, and a tight white low-cut scoop-necked T-shirt that Josie thought would look more appropriate on a teenager.

“Well, hey, darlin’! Did you come to take your mom to dinner?”

Josie recognized her mother’s exaggerated hillbilly drawl from her childhood, but after so many years away from home it sounded foreign.

“I’m still on duty, but Otto and I thought we’d buy you supper at the Hot Tamale.”

Her eyes lit up like she’d been invited to a special event, and Josie felt a twinge of guilt.

“Hang on. I’ll get my purse.”

Josie watched her mom take dainty steps back to the bathroom to check her makeup and her hair. Her high-heeled tiny steps had always looked completely ridiculous to Josie. There was nothing dainty about Josie; she walked tall and with purpose. At moments like this, Josie’s longing for her dad caused a deep ache. She was eight when he died, and now she could only imagine what kind of physical presence he had when walking into a room.