The Territory (Josie Gray Mysteries #1)(18)

She maneuvered her boat next to the cow, gagging at the putrid smell and swatting flies out of her face. She struggled to reach across the carcass to pull out one of the bags without tipping into the river. Josie couldn’t swim, could barely stay afloat treading water. She grabbed hold of a bag, slick with a substance she didn’t want to consider, and set it in the kayak between her legs.

Sauly had already walked downstream and was waiting for her on the bank. She started to push the kayak off from the branches but noticed movement through a clump of salt cedar on the Mexican side of the river, just up and to her left. The grass wasn’t as thick, and the land opened into the wide, rocky Chihuahuan Desert, but Josie couldn’t see much while she was sitting low in the kayak. The salt cedar rustled again, and she spotted two male figures dressed in desert camouflage pants and short-sleeved beige shirts. Josie pushed the kayak backwards, using a limb from the tree that the cow was caught in to move herself back under the overhanging trunk for cover.

She pulled the gun out of the front of her pants and ducked her head behind the trunk. The river was approximately four feet below the bank on this side, which had eroded and caused the large tree to fall. The U.S. side of the river was a gentle slope covered in cane grass that she could have easily disappeared into for cover, but the kayak was a slow-moving target, and she couldn’t risk the twenty feet to cross in open sight. She noted that Sauly had thankfully had the sense to disappear, but so had the two figures. The only noise was the water sliding past her boat and two woodpeckers knocking on trees above her. She had no doubt the men had come for the drugs. If she stayed in the kayak, she would become a target, and the number of men with guns would multiply. She flipped her cell phone open in one last attempt to catch a signal, but it was pointless. She was miles from decent reception, and she wouldn’t risk Sauly’s life to flag him down to go get help.

After tucking the gun back into her pants, she grabbed hold of two massive roots hanging from the tree trunk and used her arms to pull herself up and out of the kayak. She kicked the kayak back out into the river, hoping to distract the two men above her as she climbed the bank. The sandy bank gave way beneath her feet, and she was afraid she was headed down into the water. Struggling to find purchase in the dirt, she used her arms to pull herself up the massive root system and onto the bank. Sweat stung her eyes and ran down the sides of her face. The temperature was in the upper nineties, and humidity hung in the air like a wool blanket.

The kayak, along with probably twenty thousand dollars’ worth of cocaine, had already floated twenty feet down the stream by the time she made it up the bank and on solid ground. The grass wasn’t as thick, but there were still clumps of it for visual cover. She had no doubt the two figures had heard her movement and were hunkering down, waiting for her. She was now breaking multiple federal laws, but an armed fugitive on foreign soil was better than an employed cop dead in the water.

She scouted the area around her, and then, crouching low to the ground, she moved behind another fallen tree for cover. Fortunately she had left her vest on. Bending on one knee, she raised her hands and steadied them on the trunk, her eyes scanning for movement in the brush.

“This is Chief of Police Josie Gray!” she shouted. “Move out into the clearing. Put your hands in the air where I can see them.”

No movement.

“Throw your weapons to the ground and place your hands in the air!”

A gunshot rang out and the water to her left splashed. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sauly running toward his house at a sprint. Josie remained still, her eyes focused on the direction the shot had come from, probably thirty feet away and slightly to her right. She heard voices and the rustling of grass and breaking branches, but the sound was moving away from her. Within ten seconds, she heard the doors of a vehicle open and a pickup engine start. Still crouching, she rushed to the edge of the thicket and looked into the clearing in time to see a twenty-year-old two-tone pickup truck take off, following the river east. The truck was too far away to get a license number, but she was betting it had come from the Altagracia Ranch: a seventy-five-thousand-acre working ranch that the Federales had been monitoring closely for ties to the Medrano drug cartel.

Sauly appeared again from the weeds like an apparition, his tanned body and bald head blending in smoothly with his surroundings. He had acquired a shotgun, which hung over his shoulder from a leather strap.

“They’re gone,” she called out.

“Who were they shooting at?” he yelled back.

Josie ignored the question, more worried about getting across the river and getting Border Patrol on-site before two men turned into twenty. “Can you get me back across?”

“Ten minutes!” he yelled.

True to his word, ten minutes later he had rescued the kayak downstream, dragged it back, and paddled deftly across the river, just upstream from the cow, where the bank was slightly more sloped.

“You paddle back. I’ll swim. Slide on down the bank, and I’ll help you in.” Sauly looked up at her with a wide grin, half his teeth rotted out, his eyes bright. Josie cussed, checked that her gun and phone were secure, and started down the sandy bank, hanging on to a skinny tree to keep from sliding into the river. Sauly had already climbed out of the kayak and was waist deep, holding steady. Josie knew the river was about eight feet deep in the center.

“Let’s go, Chief. Have a little faith. I won’t let you get that pretty uniform wet.”