Scratchgravel Road (Josie Gray Mysteries #2)(51)



The next shelf held pay dirt: a shoebox filled with letters.

Otto set the letters aside to take back to the police department for Marta to translate. His uniform shirt was soaked through.

On his way out of the house he took the trash bag in the kitchen, as well as an empty one he found under the sink, and stood by the Dumpster in the alley behind the Family Value. He donned a fresh pair of plastic gloves and pulled the trash apart, throwing away food garbage, and keeping mail and paper to examine later at the office.

As Otto pulled into his parking space in front of the police department, he received a cell phone call from Marta.

“They found Teresa! Sergio just called. She was at her father’s. Josie’s with her now.”

Otto breathed deeply and exhaled, relieved for everyone. “That’s great news, Marta.”

“Sergio called the bridge authority. The bridge will remain closed tonight, but they hope by morning it may open again. Teresa and Josie are staying at a church tonight. They’ll be safe.”

Otto said nothing. He knew, as well as Marta, that “safe” was a relative term in northern Mexico.

*

Josie and Sergio waited outside Javier’s apartment while Teresa packed her backpack and left a note for her father. Josie wondered if her father would even remember she had been there. Teresa walked out of the shabby apartment wearing a red tank top with ruffles around the hem, a denim skirt cut at mid-thigh, and sandals that wrapped leather laces around her ankles. It wasn’t that the outfit was inappropriate for a teenaged girl, but it certainly drew attention to the young girl’s physical features.

“Sergio,” Josie said.

He shook his head slowly and glanced at Josie sitting in the passenger’s seat. “You do not need this kind of attention.”

“Sixteen-year-old girls don’t understand blending in with the crowd.”

Sergio tilted his head toward the front of the car window. “We’re driving a half mile south. El Sagrado Corazon is in the city, but enclosed within a stone wall, ten feet high. It’s run by the nuns, a sacred place.”

Josie watched an armored truck, driven by federal police in camouflage fatigues and black masks, pass by their car. Their concealed identities were indicative of the power wielded by the cartels. She had no camouflage in this foreign country and felt as if she was wearing flashing lights announcing her presence.

“You are welcome to stay at my place,” Sergio said, although his expression showed reluctance. He was already risking his own safety by driving the two around town.

Teresa opened the back door and climbed inside.

“We’ll be fine. Just take us to the church.” Josie turned to face Teresa. “Do you have any sweatpants, or old baggy clothing you could change into?”

Teresa grimaced.

“I’m in this country illegally. We could be in a great deal of trouble if we’re pulled over. Even worse trouble if the Medrano clan finds out I’m here. I don’t want any undue attention paid to us until we get back home.”

Teresa nodded, her expression suddenly sober. “I could go grab something of my dad’s.”

Josie nodded. “Do that. Dress down, pull your hair up in a ball cap. I don’t even want to know you’re a girl when you come out of that door.”

Ten minutes later, Teresa walked outside in a pair of baggy men’s jeans, oil-stained at the knees, with a large black men’s T-shirt that effectively concealed the girl’s body underneath it. She laughed when she saw Josie and Sergio watching her.

Sergio turned to face her when she got in the car. “Good girl.” His voice caught in his throat as he watched her close the door. “You have your mother’s beauty. No clothes or hat can hide the beauty you have inside. You always remember that.”

*

The bell tower was visible above the caramel-colored stone wall surrounding the church. Sergio pulled up in front of a massive wooden door that blocked the buildings within from sight. He stepped out of his car and pulled a piece of thick rope that hung down the left side of the gate, and then spoke into a small microphone mounted onto the wall. By the time he had gotten back into his car, the left gate was slowly opening inward. Once it was fully open, a nun, dressed in black robes and habit, walked quickly across the stone path and opened the other gate to allow Sergio entrance into the courtyard.

Inside the walls was a maze of stone paths and winding patches of garden filled with red and white flowers and a variety of vegetables. The recent rains had beaten down the plants, but they were lush and full of color. Wooden benches and adobe archways gave way to secret gardens and cubbyholes for meditation. As Sergio pulled his car inside the gates, the bell tower rang to announce it was seven o’clock. Sergio stopped his car and pointed out his window for Teresa to look up and watch the nun pull the rope with both arms, using the weight of her body to move the magnificent iron bell. The sound gave Josie chills. Another nun smiled and waved at Sergio and waited for him to pull the car forward so that she could shut the gates behind them. He followed a round driving path that circled past the church, then past a row of four rustic doors located under a steep overhang that shaded them from the blazing sun. Josie assumed these were the guest rooms.

As they got out of the car, Josie saw Teresa turn and watch the nun replace a thick piece of wrought iron across the gates, then padlock it on both ends. The enclosed churchyard was small and intimate and Josie felt a sense of peace settle over her that she had not felt in quite some time.

Tricia Fields's Books