Scratchgravel Road (Josie Gray Mysteries #2)(73)

Santiago’s apartment was barely illuminated from the gray morning seeping inside one curtainless window in the kitchen. Josie pulled a pair of latex gloves from her back pocket, pulled them on, and flipped the living room light switch.

She broke the one-room apartment into quadrants to make sure that she didn’t overlook anything. She started with the bathroom, which was a quick search. She found a shower stall that allowed no storage of anything except shampoo and a bar of soap, and a medicine cabinet over the sink that held a few over-the-counter medications and shaving supplies.

The kitchen area took more time. Josie checked each cabinet, top and bottom, the refrigerator, the oven and the drawer below it. Everything was neatly organized; the cans lined up with the labels facing out and three pasta boxes in a row. She checked under the bed and mattress, behind the headboard, and then tried the closet. She rifled through his clothing, arranged with shirts on the left, pants on the right. She checked the pockets for any stray papers.

When she bent down on her knees to check the bottom of the closet, the shoes caught her eye immediately. A pair of tennis shoes and a pair of inexpensive loafers were lined up under the pants. A pair of cowboy boots were lying on their side, half on top of each other. A beige hand towel, the same color as the carpet that covered the entire apartment, lay partially over the boots and the loafers. She pulled her flashlight off the clip on her gun belt and shined the light on the floor. In the corner of the closet, behind a slight imprint made by the heels of the cowboy boots, was another flattened area. A space, roughly twelve inches by eight inches, was pressed into the carpet. Josie was certain a box had once been kept in the closet, covered by the towel: someone had knocked the boots out of the way and made off with Santiago’s money.

*

After Josie left, Otto sat at his desk and rifled through his notes until he found Abella Santiago’s phone number. It would have been better to have Marta call and talk with her, but she wouldn’t be on duty for several hours. Abella answered on the third ring.

“Hello?”

“Mrs. Santiago?”

“Yes?”

“This is Officer Podowski. Could I speak with your daughter?”

After several minutes the same daughter Otto had spoken with during his last phone call came on the line.

“Yes. You have news?” Her voice was soft but anxious, her speech heavily accented.

“I’m sorry. Just more questions. I’m hoping you can help me track down some information that may help us better understand what happened to your father.”

“Yes,” she said. “I’ll try and help you.”

“From information we’ve gathered from people your father worked with, it sounds as if he was in the U.S. to save money to send home to his family. Would you agree with that?”

“That was why he went to Texas.” Her voice broke as she continued. “He worked so hard for us.”

“Can you tell me when he last sent you money?” Otto asked, his voice gentle.

“Oh, he never mail money. He never—” She paused, obviously trying to come up with the correct words. “No banks in America. No mail. He was afraid of jail, then the bank would take the money.”

Otto paused. “But he was here legally.”

“I tell him that! But he was always afraid.”

“How did you receive the money?”

“Once each month he came home. He most of the time came home on the middle of the month.”

“So, you saw him the weekend after the first of July?”

“No.” Her voice was distant and he could hear her speaking Spanish with her mother in the background. She finally came back on the line. “He last came home June sixteen.”

“Was he paid every two weeks?” Otto asked.

“No. On the first and the fifteenth of each month. He brings two checks with him.”

“He hadn’t been back since June to see you?”

“No.”

“Why didn’t he visit you over the July fifteenth weekend? He had two checks for you, right?”

She began crying softly. “He never said why. He just could not come yet. My brother is angry, asking when we can get his money to pay bills. I told him it’s disrespectful to talk about money just now. We have to be patient.”

“Do you know where your father kept the money in the apartment?”

“In a box. In a closet.”

Otto thanked her for the information and hung the phone up. His body felt heavy with the knowledge. He knew there would be no box. He’d checked the closet and found nothing but shoes.

He called Josie on her cell and she answered immediately.

“Are you still at Santiago’s?” he asked.

“I’m on my way back.”

“You check the closet?”

She paused. “The missing box?”

“Damn it. His daughter said he kept the box in his closet.”

“I found the spot. The carpet was pressed down. Someone has Santiago’s keys and his money,” she said.





NINETEEN


Josie parked her jeep outside the department, intent on going back to the evidence room. Something had occurred to her at Santiago’s house and she was anxious to check the information. She retrieved the key from Lou and logged in on the clipboard.