Scratchgravel Road (Josie Gray Mysteries #2)(43)
“How do you know she left home?”
“She left a note.”
“What did she say?”
Marta was quiet for a moment and Josie realized she was crying.
“Marta,” she said gently. “We can’t talk this through until you quit crying. Put the phone down. Take a deep breath. Grab a Kleenex. Then give me details.”
Josie turned back to the group of men at the cafeteria table and saw Otto taking notes. She had no doubt he would be thorough. As she watched, waiting for Marta to return, Diego turned and caught her glance, a beat longer than was necessary.
Marta returned to the phone. “I’m sorry. I never expected this. She’s never done anything like this. And, no warning.”
Josie turned her back on the group in order to focus on the call. “What did the note say?”
“We got into a fight. It got ugly. I said horrible things.”
“Was the fight over Enrico?”
“Yes.” She sniffed again, trying to slow her breathing. “I accused her of terrible things, but she wouldn’t even respond. She just stared at me with this blank expression. I was so angry I left the house. I couldn’t deal with her.” She paused a moment. “I knew we needed to resolve things today. Then I found a note in her bedroom. She said she couldn’t live with me anymore. That she’s leaving home for a while.”
Josie felt her shoulders slump and sighed. “Oh, Marta. I’m sorry. You wait at the department. Otto and I will be right there. We’re at the Feed Plant. Start making phone calls to all her friends. Make sure you talk to the parents too. The kids may tell their parents, but they might not be willing to tell you if Teresa told them not to.”
“I should have never left the house so angry. I’ll never forgive myself if something happens to her.”
TEN
Josie and Otto were quiet on the drive back to town. Josie’s head was filled with scenarios of Teresa’s departure, wondering where she would go, mixed with images of the grim scene they had just left behind. As the rain intensified, Otto turned on the local radio station, which was playing a recording from the National Weather Service, a flash flooding alert for all of West Texas along the Rio Grande. A female radio announcer came back on and said Mexican dams on the Conchos River were spilling floodwater, and with the failure of several levees on the Mexican side, flooding was already an issue in Piedra Labrada, the Mexican city across the border from Artemis. The International Bridge that linked Presidio and Ojinaga had closed due to flooding. The announcer was connected by phone to a Texas senator who explained that the wastewater treatment plant just a few miles from the bridge in Piedra Labrada had ruptured, sending sewage streaming into the Rio Grande. “This is not a natural disaster,” he said. “This is manmade. There are hundreds of people who are losing their homes today because of poor management practices in Mexico.”
“Disaster and politics,” said Otto. “Where do you come up with the money to plan for the hundred-year flood when you can barely pay the phone bill?”
*
Josie and Otto found Marta standing in front of her desk talking on the telephone. Worry lines formed a V in between Marta’s eyes and her face was red and splotchy. Josie thought she looked as if she had aged ten years.
Marta hung up the phone and faced them. “One of her friends’ mothers called back. Her daughter finally let loose. Teresa left last night while I was at work. Got a ride from her friend Angela to the bus station in Presidio. Then took the bus across the border before they closed the bridge into Ojinaga. That’s where her father lives.” She paused, her face haggard. “I came home last night and glanced in her room. I thought she was in bed. She’d piled pillows up to look as if she was asleep. Any other night, I would have kissed her goodnight. Last night, I was still too angry.”
Otto pulled a chair out at the conference table and stood behind it. “Come sit,” he said to Marta. “Tell us everything you know.”
Josie grabbed three mugs from the back of the office and carried the coffeepot to the table. She poured them each a cup and sat.
“So she took a thirty-minute bus ride to Presidio, then crossed the International Bridge to stay with her dad in Ojinaga?” Josie asked.
Marta nodded. “Now the bridge has closed and the forecast says the rain won’t stop. But I have to find her.”
“What about driving to El Paso? They haven’t had the rain we have. You could still cross there,” Otto said.
“No. It’s almost four hours to El Paso. Then I have to go through customs. Then drive all the way back to Ojinaga. It’s twelve thirty now. It would be ten o’clock tonight before I got to town.” She closed her eyes and made fists with her hands on the table. “I can’t leave her there. Her dad’s a drunk. If he’s off the whiskey she’ll be fine. If he’s on it, he could stay passed out for days. Who knows if he’s even home. It’s not a safe neighborhood in broad daylight. And, God forbid, if she hasn’t made it to his house by nightfall I can’t even begin to think what could happen to her.”
“Have you called?”
“He doesn’t have a phone. I took Teresa’s cell away from her last week. She’s grounded from it. I have no way of getting hold of her. I tried Javier’s father’s store but no one answered.”