Scratchgravel Road (Josie Gray Mysteries #2)(53)

“That’s not what I was getting at. Could he have picked up that kind of radiation exposure at the cleanup site?”

Cowan eyed Otto over his reading glasses, then rolled the metal gurney and body over to the freezer. “I know what you were getting at. I can’t answer it, though. I don’t have any idea what kind of radiation might be leaking out at that plant. I find it highly unlikely it caused the sores on this man’s arms, though. My opinion is that it would take a prescribed, intensive, and malicious intent to cause the sores on this man’s arms.”

“Cause of death?” Otto asked.

“I’m just not ready to commit. There are three distinct traumas. The exterior sores, the GI tract, and the blow to the head. I’m not able to piece together how they are related.”

“If they’re related,” Otto said.

“Obviously, I’m no expert in radiation poisoning. I’ll be contacting the Centers for Disease Control in the morning.” Cowan peeled his latex gloves off and dropped them in a hazardous waste container.

*

Otto left Cowan’s office at the Arroyo County Jail and stood outside for a long while before entering his jeep to drive home. The case was a mix of barely related details. The victim worked at a nuclear weapons plant that was in the process of being dismantled. A handful of people in the entire nation took part in that kind of specialized cleanup, so who knew if the plant employees were providing good information. The man had been knocked unconscious by a blow to the back of the head, but more than likely he had been killed by some horrendous sores that the coroner couldn’t identify on the man’s arms. Were the sores caused by radiation from the plant, or by some unidentified virus infecting everyone who came in contact with the victim? To top it all off, the coroner just said that his digestive tract was disintegrated as well. And, how had the man’s wallet, empty of ID but containing cash, been found in Cassidy Harper’s beat-up car on the side of Scratchgravel Road?





THIRTEEN


By ten o’clock that night Josie and Teresa were both sitting in T-shirts and shorts on Teresa’s bed playing gin rummy with a well-worn deck that Teresa had taken from her dad’s apartment. They had relaxed into one another’s company and were both enjoying what had started out seeming like an endless night.

Josie laid an ace of spades in the middle of their rows of cards. “What do you see yourself doing after you graduate high school?”

Teresa rested the cards in her lap and shrugged.

“You’re young. You have plenty of time,” Josie said. “Just find something other than law enforcement.”

“I want out of here. I want to live in a city, away from the desert. Somewhere nobody knows me.”

“Don’t you have something in school you love to do?” Josie asked. “A hobby?”

Teresa looked at Josie for a moment too long and she could tell Teresa was struggling with something she wanted to say. Josie laid her cards on the bed, ready to listen.

Someone knocked on the door and a woman said something in Spanish, her voice urgent but unclear.

Josie and Teresa looked at each other, confused. It was after ten o’clock and the nuns locked up the church at nine.

Josie stood from the bed and automatically looked for her gun, then remembered she hadn’t brought it.

The woman spoke again in a hoarse whisper, still banging on the door frantically. There was no peephole in the ancient door. Josie motioned Teresa to stand against the wall so she would be hidden behind the door when it opened. The girl looked terrified.

When Josie opened the door, Sister Agnes rushed inside. She wore a full-length white nightgown and her short gray hair was tousled. She stood in front of the door for a moment and took a long stilling breath. In a much calmer voice she gestured toward the door and said something in Spanish.

“No hablo Espa?ola,” Josie said, and looked to Teresa, who was fluent. Her face had gone pale. “What is she saying?”

“She says the Federales are here. They’ve come to take us out of the city.”

“Why?”

Teresa shook her head no and Josie feared she would go into shock.

“Teresa! Ask the nun why they want to take us! What have we done?”

The nun walked over to Teresa, who still stood with her back against the wall. The nun put her hands out and held both of Teresa’s hands in her own. She spoke slower and Teresa nodded, calming down some.

“She doesn’t know anything. There’s a Federales van behind the church, waiting. She wants us to go now before there’s trouble.”

“Tell her I have to talk to Sergio.”

The nun pointed to their bags on the floor and spoke rapidly.

Teresa said, “She says go now. We can’t make them wait or they’ll enter. She doesn’t want attention drawn to the church.”

Josie felt the blood rushing to her face and knew she needed to keep her calm. They had no choice. They threw their belongings into their backpacks and followed the nun across the courtyard and through the front doors of the church. They walked quickly down the center of the darkened sanctuary. The pews were barely visible from oil lamps lit on the altar. The nun slowed slightly and spoke, then stretched her hand out to Teresa. She motioned for Josie to hold Teresa’s other hand and opened a door behind the altar.