Scratchgravel Road (Josie Gray Mysteries #2)(39)

Diego shut the door and walked them over to the large machine where the men in white suits were gathered over a large metal pipe they appeared to be feeding into a furnace. He stopped Josie and Otto about thirty feet away and they watched the men working in tandem. She wondered if they had radios inside their suits. After several minutes Diego moved on and finished a quick tour of the building. He had neglected to explain what the men were doing and she wondered if it was simple oversight or intentional.

Next to the building’s entrance door was an enclosed office area. Diego opened the door and motioned for Josie and Otto to enter. Once he closed the door the noise from outside stopped, almost completely. It was uncomfortably cold, and Josie could feel air movement. The room was approximately twenty feet square and had three metal desks that looked like they had been scavenged from offices in the 1950s.

A man in his sixties wearing a short-sleeved button-down shirt, striped tie, and black dress slacks sat at one desk. Diego introduced him as Skip Bradford, and he stood and shook hands with Josie and Otto. He was average height and build and had the serious, introspective demeanor of a scientist, complete with a calculator and pens in his shirt pocket.

Skip excused himself to answer the ringing phone on his desk and Diego continued. “Skip supervises a crew of five men, including Juan Santiago. The men are on the floor working on a vitrification project. We take waste sludge and contaminated material that needs long-term storage to give it time to stabilize. We basically heat it, mix it with glass fragments, and resolidify it. The result is waste contained in glass that is highly resistant to water. Then it can be stored underground for several thousand years until the radioactive material is safe.”

Josie shook her head in amazement. “We have waste in our backyard that is so toxic it has to be stored inside glass and buried underground for thousands of years.”

Diego tipped his head at Josie. “True enough. But we’ve found an excellent, safe solution.”

Skip hung up his phone. “Sorry about that.”

“No problem. We appreciate you talking with us,” Josie said. She didn’t have any idea what kind of relationship Skip had with his subordinate. And she had intentionally not told Diego that they expected foul play. She wanted to gauge his reaction when she told Skip. She had found that people performed for the police when asked a question directly, and often provided more honest reactions when listening from afar. If Diego showed no sign of surprise when learning about the murder, then her suspicions would multiply fast.

“I have some disturbing news. I’d like to talk with you about someone who might be an employee of yours,” she said. “We found a man’s body in the desert several days ago. We suspect he may have been murdered.”

Skip’s mouth opened and his eyes grew wide. “What do you mean?”

“You didn’t mention murder,” Diego said, his expression more angry than shocked.

Skip placed his palms on his cheeks and sat back down in his chair. “Santiago’s been absent since last week. Is that who you mean?” The gravity of what he had just heard showed in his face. “I called him at home on Monday and yesterday but got no answer. I just figured he went to Mexico, back to his family.”

Diego walked over to a kitchenette area in the corner of the room that contained a water cooler with disposable cups beside it. He filled a cup and handed it to Skip, who looked at his boss, bewildered. “I never thought about calling the police. I never dreamed of anything sinister. I assumed he’d just left.” He turned back to Josie and Otto. “People do that. Employees just don’t show up for work one week. No call or notice. They just quit.”

“We’re still trying to identify the body,” Josie said. “Can you tell me if Mr. Santiago was bald?”

His eyes widened. “Yes,” he said, almost in a whisper.

“Has he been bald as long as you’ve known him?” she asked.

He nodded.

“Were you aware of any serious illnesses he may have had? Cancer or something that would have caused him to lose his hair?”

He frowned. “No, ma’am. He rarely missed work. I’m not aware of any illnesses.”

She wondered how that played into their chemotherapy theory.

Josie sat down in an office chair beside Skip and put her notebook on her lap. “Would you have expected him to quit? That he would leave with no notice?”

The shock of the news weighed heavily on his movements. He sipped from the cup slowly, then looked again at Josie as if she had asked a strange question. “No. I wouldn’t think so. He was a good worker. Not stellar, but he showed up each day. He worked while on the clock. You know?”

“Did he have another job that you were aware of? Anything else that consumed his time after work?” she asked.

“His family was the only thing I ever heard him mention. I think his paycheck was sent home. He lived by himself.”

“In Artemis?” Otto asked.

He looked surprised to hear from Otto, and turned in his chair slightly to see him. “Yes, downtown. Somewhere near the Family Value. I don’t know exactly.”

“Do you have a photo of Mr. Santiago that would help us identify him?” she asked.

“Yes. Employees have a picture on their ID badge. I believe it should be in his personnel file,” Skip said.

“Would you be willing to come to the coroner’s office to identify the body?” Josie asked.