Scratchgravel Road (Josie Gray Mysteries #2)(86)

Beacon’s Quad trencher was already at the location Mitch had designated as the starting point for the explosives. Otto had never seen a trencher in action, and this one was obviously top of the line. Otto figured his tax dollars were paying for it, so it ought to be good.

The machine was red, built similar to a bulldozer, but with a large arm on the back of it that looked like a three-foot-wide, five-foot-long chainsaw blade. It sat atop tracks similar to those used on army tanks, however these were triangular in shape, and there were two separate tracks on either side of the machine. It looked as if it could move through about any terrain. The operator left the machine running and hopped out of the cab to meet up with the group.

Mitch got off his four-wheeler and approached the operator with his hand outstretched and introduced himself as the explosives tech.

“Name’s Bob Smitty.” He was a short, heavyset man with a two-day beard and leathery skin.

Mitch pointed to the tracks. “How’s she do in this kind of mud?”

The operator smiled and laughed as if he’d heard a good dirty joke. “You have to try to get her stuck.” He looked up into the sky, where the rain still came down. “She can run in this for sure.”

*

Josie called and gave Otto an update on her progress and said she needed another thirty minutes to scan the video through Saturday night and Sunday. She was convinced she knew who the murderer was, and the tape would prove it. She pressed Play again and set it to fast-forward. On Saturday at 10:40 P.M., just thirty minutes past when the security guard last made his rounds of the pilot unit, she saw unexpected movement and clicked Stop. She took a deep breath, certain she was about ready to break open the case, and clicked the Play button to watch the video at standard speed. A person in a white hazmat suit, wearing black work boots, walked into the room.

“Here we go,” she whispered. She could feel her heart race in her chest as she watched another person dressed in a similar white suit enter the room. The two figures walked across the room to a lab table that held various equipment and glass beakers. One of the figures held a hand up to a glass overhead cabinet and unlocked it, pulling out a white box, what appeared to be a first-aid kit. The container was placed on the counter and the two figures faced one another, apparently discussing something. One of them took a tube of something from the kit and tried to give it to the other person. The two appeared to be arguing. After several minutes, the individual who refused the tube turned and started to walk away. The other person picked up a metal stool, lifted it over his head, and came down with incredible force on top of the other man’s head. Josie knew that she’d just seen the blow that caused the injury to Juan Santiago’s head.

“Josie?”

Josie gasped and turned to the door. She had no idea there was anyone else in the building. “Brent! What are you doing here? I thought you were home sick.”

He looked just as surprised to see her. “I was. Someone called and told me about the mudslide. Said I needed to get here and help.”

Josie breathed out, trying to calm her nerves. She noticed him staring at the video. She turned back to the computer and clicked the monitor off to lose the picture.

“What are you watching?” he asked. He narrowed his eyes at her.

“Have you talked to Skip or Diego yet?”

He shook his head no.

“Go find your supervisors to see how you can help.”

Pointing at the monitor he asked, “Does this have to do with Santiago?”

“It doesn’t concern you. We’ve got a mess out here.”

Brent held out his wrist, covered with a large bandage. Josie could see the discoloration underneath. It was obvious the blister on his wrist had worsened and was seeping blood.

“I think I deserve to be a part of this conversation. Look at what’s happening to me!”

*

Otto stood on the side of the hill with two of Mitch’s crew. His skin felt sticky under the plastic poncho where the rain had trickled in between the gaps and openings to soak his uniform. The smell of wet, sweaty skin was giving him a headache and he was beginning to long for a cool shower. He imagined sitting in his kitchen with a glass of iced tea and a bowl of vanilla ice cream.

They watched as the trencher slowly worked its way down the hill. Two men were laying the blocks of explosive down into the ditch, and Mitch was coming behind them attaching the blasting caps. Another man was attaching the detonation cord. The entire operation was moving smoothly, and Otto had just begun to have hope, when the man standing beside him cursed and pointed to the top of the peak.

“Son of a bitch,” whispered Otto.

They watched in horror as a large chunk on the face of the peak broke free, slamming against the side of the mountain as it tumbled down. The cracking rocks reverberated down the hill. Everyone stopped what they were doing, holding their breath, waiting for the rest of the peak to fall. Amazingly, it did not.

Otto dialed Josie’s number, anxious to get her out of the building before Mitch lit the explosives. She didn’t answer.

*

Josie felt the cell phone vibrate against her chest and ignored it, not wanting to spook Brent before she understood his motivation.

She stood and gestured with her hand for him to walk out of the small room, but he didn’t budge. The room was too confined and she felt extremely uncomfortable. His attitude had changed considerably. She realized he was holding one of his arms awkwardly behind his body, just behind the door frame.