Scratchgravel Road (Josie Gray Mysteries #2)(62)

“How’s Brent taking all this?” Josie asked.

She shook her head. “He’s not doing so good. He’s taking it really hard. He stayed home from work today. I can’t hardly get him to talk.”

Josie glanced at Otto and leaned back in her seat. “I’d like to talk to one of Juan’s coworkers about the plant. How about we stop by and talk to Brent today?”

Sarah lifted a shoulder, a helpless gesture. “Sure. Maybe talking it through will help.”

Josie sipped at her drink as Sarah walked off. “I don’t know where else we go with this. We can’t go barging into the Feed Plant with nothing to tie the dead body to their operation.”

“And what would we even look for?” he said.

“I don’t know whether I hope there’s a connection between the sores and his death, or whether I dread it.”

“How about you? Sauly enlighten you?” he asked.

“As always. He claims Beacon is loaded. Their operation works like this—they find old nuclear plants. Then they convince a group of citizens—Sauly says women—that their town is contaminated and they need to file a lawsuit to make the government clean it up. Beacon lowballs a bid, gets hired, then a few years later requests more time and money from the government. Milks the contract for every drop it can get.”

Otto smirked. “And the government is so happy to avoid a lawsuit they roll over belly-up. Beacon gets whatever it wants.”

“Sauly’s got life figured out,” she said. “He should run for mayor.”

Otto grinned. “You could be his campaign director.”

*

Josie arrived back at the station at two thirty and finished up a case report from a drunk-driving incident and stood to stretch. She walked to the window at the back of the office and stared at the continuing rain. A small clock radio on Otto’s desk played softly. They had both spent the afternoon listening to frequent updates about the flooding along the West Texas border. Mexico had received the most damage, but Presidio was evacuating all along the river. Sandbagging crews were working around the clock in Artemis. If the rain kept up as predicted, there was a chance Artemis would need to begin evacuations by week’s end.

“You about ready?” Josie asked.

Otto looked up from his computer and glanced at his watch. “Day’s flying. You driving?”

Josie borrowed Lou’s umbrella to avoid the downpour, unlocked her jeep, and let Otto in the passenger door. She drove south two blocks to the Arroyo County Health Department—a brick ranch-style building that was located in the same structure as the Trauma Center.

The health department entrance led into a large fluorescent-lit room with rows of blue plastic chairs and low coffee tables covered with magazines, puzzles, and Legos. Several young mothers sat with small children in the plastic seats, most likely waiting for the free immunizations, the department’s primary purpose in town. They stared openly at Josie and Otto as they approached the receptionist who sat behind a glass window with a sign-in clipboard.

Otto spoke to the lady behind the counter like an old friend. She was in her fifties, a cheery woman with a short haircut that accentuated big brown eyes and a flashy smile. Josie didn’t know her and remained behind Otto while they laughed about some event that had taken place at the Kiwanis meeting. The woman finally led them through a door and down a hallway and into a small office with a sign that read SHEILA MAGNUS—COUNTY HEALTH NURSE. The receptionist sat them both at a small round table and offered coffee and soft drinks before going back to her post. The door shut and a shriek rang out from an examination room down the hall. It sounded like a young child in serious distress.

Otto smirked. “They don’t make kids like they used to.”

Josie nodded. “They’re not tough like we were.”

A few minutes later, a harried middle-aged woman walked into the room, smiling and chattering, patting them both on the back before sitting across from them at the table.

“You have to quit beating the little ones,” Otto said.

She laughed, her eyes still wide from the incident. “That little bugger tried to bite me! I gave him a shot in the butt and he went for my leg!”

Sheila wore a nurse’s white top, pants, and shoes. Her wavy black hair and deep tan looked even darker against the stark white of her uniform. Josie had known her for years and had worked with her on several domestic and child abuse cases. She was a high-energy, conscientious worker whom Josie respected and liked.

Sheila sat down at the table. “Mitchell called and said he’s hung up at the coroner’s office. He’ll be here in about fifteen minutes.”

Josie nodded. “That will give me time to give you some background. I assume you’ve heard about the Santiago murder? The body found in the desert this past week?” Josie asked.

She nodded. “It’s horrible. I heard the illegal crossing theory’s already been shot down. Any leads?”

Josie tipped her head. “It’s gotten complicated. We’re coming to you with confidential information today.” She paused.

“I understand.”

“We have a male, name is Juan Santiago. He’s in his forties, but we’re still struggling with cause of death. He had multiple open wounds on both his arms. We’re leaning toward some kind of radiation poisoning.”