Scratchgravel Road (Josie Gray Mysteries #2)(23)
Josie opened her notebook and wrote down the size of the man’s jeans, noted the brand was Wranglers, and checked them for tear marks or any sign of damage. Finding none, she went through the same process with the shirt. The clothing appeared to be fairly new and in excellent condition. It did not appear that he had experienced any kind of fight, or that he had been dragged through the sand to the spot where Cassidy found him.
Josie looked at his work boots. They were black, made of smooth high-grade leather. They appeared to be the kind of boot purchased for military or law enforcement use, although Josie did not recognize the brand. She jotted down the name, Secure-Wear, size 11 wide. She examined the bottom of the boots and noted that the wear looked typical on the soles, although the red stitching appeared fairly new. It looked as if the shoes had been re-soled.
She took photographs of the clothing before returning it back to the bag. She turned her attention to the items in the small resealable bags, hoping they might lead to some piece of information to help identify him. The Case knife was most interesting. She pulled it out of the bag and snapped a picture of it. The wood grain was stained a deep forest green with silver inlay and caps on the ends. She opened each blade and noticed the heft. The sheen had been worn off the wood, so the knife had been used for some years, but the blades were oiled and had been well cared for. She took a few additional pictures so she could run the knife by Tiny at the Gun Club.
The objects from the man’s left pocket consisted of eighty-seven cents in American currency and a packet of Dentyne cinnamon gum. His right pocket held the knife and a small glass vial that appeared to be empty.
Josie turned toward Cowan and held up the vial. “Can you test a vial like this for drug residue? It appears to be empty, and I don’t see anything in it, but it might be worth a test.”
He looked up from the microscope and squinted. “Yes. I can test it. Leave it out of the bag and put a note on it with instructions. I’ll get to it tomorrow.”
Frustrated that she hadn’t found more to go on, Josie placed the evidence back into the large bag and put it back into the top locker. She threw her cap, mask, and gloves in a waste receptacle marked with a hazardous waste symbol, then took her lab coat off and placed it in a hazardous materials tub for the laundry. She washed her hands and forearms thoroughly with hot water and a medicinal-smelling soap in a large sink, anxious to leave the room and whatever pathogens were floating in the air. After a quick good-bye to Cowan she was walking down the hallway when her cell phone rang in the pocket of her uniform shirt.
She flipped it open and smiled at the number.
“Hey! You on break?” she asked.
“Yep. You busy?”
“I was holding some guy’s hand.”
“Should I be jealous?”
“He was dead. He’s not much of a threat,” she said.
“I don’t think normal people have conversations like these.”
Josie could hear the smile in his voice and laughed. “I never promised you normal. What’s your schedule today?”
“I’m coming home early. I miss you.”
“You’re coming home because you miss me, or because the conference sucks?”
“You should learn to accept a compliment at face value. I’m also coming home because today’s lectures don’t apply to me. It’s corporate accounting. Not exactly my thing.”
She smiled, happy just to hear his voice. “No, Artemis doesn’t really qualify as a corporate kind of town.” Josie waved good-bye to Maria, who buzzed her out into the lobby area of the jail. “Want to meet at the Tamale for supper?” She walked outside, stood under the awning, and saw she wouldn’t need her umbrella.
He groaned. “I was hoping for a home-cooked meal.”
“Ramen soup?”
“Sounds delicious.”
“I’ll see you about six at my place,” she said.
“Perfect.”
“Hey,” she said before they hung up. “I miss you too.”
The downpour that she had walked through upon arriving at the jail had turned into a sprinkle. The sun was still buried in thick gray clouds, but a reprieve from the rain would be nice. She decided it was time to have a talk with Enrico Gomez.
SEVEN
Josie drove south of the courthouse to the San Salba Pawn Shop, located between the Family Value Store and the Pay-Day Quick Loans. San Salba was owned by Carlos Gomez, but his grandson, Enrico Gomez, ran the business. Josie could forget most of what she saw as a police officer, but crimes committed against old people and kids stayed with her. A year ago, after a two-day party in the living quarters behind the pawn shop got out of control and turned violent, Enrico’s grandfather arrived to restore order. Enrico shoved his grandfather, an eighty-year-old man, down a short flight of steps, causing him to be sent to the hospital. Mr. Gomez had refused to press charges. Josie had worked the case and watched Enrico walk out of the police department with the same arrogance as when he entered.
The rain had ended by the time Josie pulled her jeep in front of the pawn shop. The street was slick with streams of thin mud running across the road. Puddles of water covered the ground around the storefronts, but she knew that with the next deluge the puddles would turn into wide swaths of running water flowing over the already saturated ground. The depth of the running water in the arroyos was deceptive and could carry a car away in a matter of seconds. She made a mental note to check in with the sheriff on the current conditions of the county roads after she was finished with Enrico.