Scratchgravel Road (Josie Gray Mysteries #2)(32)

“Have you talked with the manager at the Feed Plant yet?” Otto asked.

“No. Can you call and schedule an appointment for us to meet with him tomorrow? We could meet in the morning if you can work an earlier schedule.”

“Will do.”

Lou buzzed the intercom and her voice came through the speaker on Josie’s desk phone.

“Chief?”

“Yes.”

“National Weather Service announced a severe thunderstorm warning for West Texas. Stretches from El Paso down to Presidio. Six inches tonight. They expect the Rio to flood Presidio before dawn. They’ve started evacuations down by the river. They’re moving families out into a temporary shelter they set up at the elementary school in Presidio.”

“All right. Thanks, Lou.”

“Mayor wants everyone sandbagging tomorrow in shifts. I signed you and Otto up for a two-hour shift. Seven to nine in the morning.”

“Thanks, Lou,” Josie said.

They looked out of the large windows in back of the PD. Fast-moving gray clouds stretched as far as they could see in all directions.

“What an ugly sight,” Marta said.

Otto looked grim. “This is supposed to keep up for the next week.”

Josie looked at her watch. It was almost five o’clock. “Otto, can you call Cowan and fill him in?”

He nodded. “Will do.”

“Just have him call my cell if he has any questions,” she said. “Marta, we’ll call the county attorney when I get done at the Feed Plant in the morning. Find out where we stand.” She stood and grabbed her keys off the desk. “For now, let’s pay a quick visit to Mr. Wetzel. Rattle his cage a little.”

*

Josie left a phone message for the county attorney and then she and Marta made a dash out the front door to Josie’s car. Dripping wet and cursing the rain, they drove to Wee Wetzel’s bail bondsman’s shop, one of three ranch-style homes located directly across the street from the Arroyo County Jail. His CERTIFIED BAIL BONDSMAN sign hung from a chain off the TV antenna that climbed the front of his house.

“I asked Teresa how she knew about Wetzel and she said Enrico told her. He promised to pay her back after he got out and proved his innocence,” Marta said. She opened her door and spoke to Josie over the top of the car. “How could she fall for such trash?”

Josie thought about Javier, Marta’s ex-husband, an abusive alcoholic, but she said nothing.

They walked under umbrellas across the front yard, a twenty-foot-wide patch of sand, and Josie knocked on an aluminum screen door that hung crooked in its frame. The mesh screen had apparently been shredded by the dog that they could hear yipping and growling on the other side of the scarred wooden door.

A woman in a neon-colored velour track suit opened the door and stuck her head out. Her hair had been dyed a burnt orange and teased up around her head. Josie showed her badge and Marta stayed behind her.

“You here for Wee?” she called out, raising her voice just above the dog’s.

Josie nodded and the woman put a finger up and slammed the door. Several minutes later a man opened the door just a few inches. A red veined nose and thick fleshy lips appeared in the crack of the door.

“Yeah?”

“We need to have a talk,” Josie said.

“What do you want with me?”

“I’m here to ask you some questions. Mind if I come in a minute?”

Wetzel huffed and opened the door. He wore a pair of mechanic’s navy work pants and a V-neck T-shirt with yellow underarm stains. The small dog had stopped barking but growled and hunkered down in a corner as Josie entered with Marta following behind her.

A noisy window air conditioner recirculated lukewarm air that smelled of cigars into a small living room space that had been converted into an office. The space included a desk, filing cabinets, and piles of file folders, loose papers, and brimming ashtrays. A neat stack of People magazines lay on the floor and Josie figured the woman spent at least some time in the office. She wondered at the idea that Wee could have found a woman desperate enough to live with him.

Marta stood with her legs slightly apart and her arms crossed across her chest, her expression grim. “You make it a practice to allow kids to make bail for convicted felons?”

“I ain’t breaking any laws.” Wetzel sniffed deeply as if he might spit onto the floor.

“That’s not what I asked,” she said. “She’s sixteen years old. She’s using her babysitting money to bail out a meth user. A person with any conscience would at least have called the minor’s parent.”

He smiled widely. “I think you owe me an apology, Officer Cruz.” He turned and walked back to his desk. He dug around on his desk, muttering to himself. He finally held a paper up in triumph, his smile revealing teeth stained the same yellow as his underarms.

“Take a look at this. That wasn’t no kid that signed those papers. That was a twenty-one-year-old woman. I got a Xerox copy of her license to prove it.”

Marta took the paper from him and examined the photocopy. Josie looked over her shoulder. The license was a good forgery. It looked clean on the copy. Marta was quiet for a time, staring at the page, obviously not prepared for this new revelation.

“You knew that was my daughter. You can’t tell me you thought she was twenty-one years old. She’s a baby!”