The Territory (Josie Gray Mysteries #1)(11)

“The Gunners.”

“There are some seriously bizarre people in this world.”

“Think any of them could have killed Red?”

“No clue.”

“You ever hear of the members arguing with each other?”

“No clue.”

“Do you know if he has any family members in the area?”

“Nope.”

Josie sighed, frustrated at her lack of cooperation. “Ms. Winning, at this point, you’re my best connection to Red Goff.”

“Look. I’d help you if I could. But I don’t know anything. He’s just some weird guy that ended up dead on my couch. I’d like to know how he got there, too. Trust me.” She pointed in the direction of the trailer. “But I have to sleep in that thing tonight. So, honestly, I couldn’t give a rat’s ass about Red Goff. The feeling was mutual once he figured out my zipper was shut. I got my own worries right now.”

*

Red Goff’s place was built into the hillside two hundred feet behind Winning’s trailer. The underground dwelling consisted of a nine-foot-by-forty-foot-long wall covered in gray aluminum siding with no windows and only one entry point, a set of sliding glass doors dead center in the wall. Cactus and desert scrub had been strategically placed in front of the wall so that his house blended into the landscape.

After the coroner arrived for the body, Josie and Otto walked up the steep hill to Goff’s to check out his house. Otto mopped at his forehead with a handkerchief and complained about the heat.

“What’s your take on the girl?” Josie asked.

“Pegasus Winning. What kind of mother names her kid that?”

“She’s pretty laid-back about it all,” Josie said. “People usually try and put on a show when they’re trying to hide something. Give you what they think you want.”

“She couldn’t care less.”

Josie nodded, but her gut instinct told her Winning was innocent.

Otto pointed to the left of the house. Another structure had been built into the hillside, a one-car garage, even more carefully disguised behind a thick stand of pi?on pines. “Sneaky bastard.”

“He definitely wanted to hide something. Maybe he just wanted to hide himself away from the world.”

“Don’t you bet that son of a buck hated that trailer perched at the bottom of his driveway? I bet old Red tried like hell to buy that piece of land just for the privacy,” Otto said.

“I’ll call the courthouse and see who owns the land. Winning said her brother rented the land from someone, and she sends the rent payment to a P.O. box each month. The check is made out to a third-party rental agency,” Josie said.

Otto asked, “You know anything about her brother? All I knew was there was someone living out here by Red.”

Josie shook her head. “She showed me a picture of him, but I didn’t recognize him. I think he kept a low profile. Name is Kenny Winning. Thirty years old. Tall, skinny guy. She claims she doesn’t know what kind of job he had.”

As they reached Red’s house, Josie pointed up the hill that served as the side of his house. “Let’s clear the back before we go inside.”

From atop the roof, it was impossible to tell there was a house below. A half mile beyond, the land sloped into government grazing pasture and tall swaths of green native grasses, some of the prettiest country in Artemis.

“Typical Red. Builds his house on the ugliest chunk of ground on his property,” Otto said.

“Facing a double-wide trailer on cement blocks.” She shook her head and pointed toward a small barn with its doors wide open. “He used to raise a small herd of cattle. At least we don’t have to deal with moving cows out of here. I’ll check around and make sure somebody didn’t run off with them.”

Otto pointed to the right side of the property, where a well-tended ten-foot-by-twenty-foot garden thrived due to a drip-irrigation system on a timer. “Hard to picture Red as a gardener.”

They walked back down the hill, and Josie snapped 35-millimeter pictures of the house and garage before entering. Otto set his evidence kit down and tried the sliding door with a gloved hand. It opened easily.

“Not a good sign,” said Josie.

Otto slid the door all the way open and tapped on it. “I heard this is bulletproof glass shipped in from China. Cost him a pretty penny.”

The two stepped into a room lit by the late afternoon sun. Several tube skylights ran approximately four feet through the dirt above the house to the ground above and provided a surprising amount of light.

“Looks like a bachelor pad,” Otto said. “Couch, coffee table, and TV. Concrete floor. Not much else a man needs.”

Josie winced. “Smells like Red. Musty and rank.” She walked to the back wall, which was painted a deep gray. Several hundred hooks stuck out of the wall, starting at about four feet from the floor and extending to the ceiling. “What do you figure these are?” Josie asked, moving closer.

Otto stood in front of the wall and drew his finger around long, darkened shadows where something had covered the wall and kept the sun from bleaching the paint.

Otto pointed to a dark outline. They noticed the pattern at the same time.

“He had guns mounted on the wall. Dozens,” Josie said. “Somebody beat us.”