The Territory (Josie Gray Mysteries #1)(2)

Her ears buzzed in the sudden silence. Stunned, she watched the other officer lean his head down to Marín’s chest and check his neck for a pulse. Three cars exited the alley behind the nightclub, making their escape before reinforcements could ever arrive.

*

Josie repeatedly dialed the Piedra Police Department until finally reaching a dispatcher through sheer luck. She reported an officer down, and within minutes the ambulance arrived. Josie watched as Marín’s lifeless body was loaded into the ambulance. They were treating him like he had a chance, but she had little hope.

She leaned her rifle against the deck railing and forced her breathing to return to normal. She rubbed at the knots in her neck and felt the tension pulling the muscles in her back and shoulders. Thirty-three years old, and she wondered if the dark circles under her eyes would ever fade.

She unbuttoned her uniform shirt and lifted the bulletproof vest and her T-shirt away from her chest, sighing in relief as the air touched her skin. She unclipped her shoulder-length brown hair and finger-combed it back into place. It was four o’clock in the morning. Her body felt numb; her thoughts flatlined.

Josie pushed open the rickety wooden door into the boxy room at the center of the watchtower’s platform and found the water bottle in her backpack. She drained the contents and searched her cell phone for Sergio Pando’s phone number. A single father who obsessed over his teenage daughter’s safety, he was her closest contact on the Mexican police force. His wife had been killed, a bystander to a car bomb explosion when Benita was just a baby. It had nearly destroyed him.

Josie finally made contact with him. “What’s happening over there?”

“Josie, it is insanity. We’ve lost all control. Benita? She’s in the cellar, scared out of her mind.” Sergio’s English was excellent, but his accent was thick, slowing his speech.

“Is she home by herself?” Josie asked.

He sighed heavily and took a moment to respond. “You know where I am? Posted on the International Bridge. As if anyone in their right mind would want into this city right now.”

“The gunfire has let up.” Josie realized how inadequate it sounded. How do you talk to a man whose city is dying?

“For how long?” Sergio’s voice was bitter and tired. “All those government soldiers going to save the villages? Where are they? The Federales are so outmanned, we can’t keep up. It’s a joke.”

“I requested Border Patrol and DPS all night. It’s no good. Dispatch has been nonstop.”

Sergio made a dismissive sound. “The landlines are down, probably destroyed like the rest of the city.”

“Border Patrol is monitoring scanner traffic. They set up defensive positions at the main points. They’re preparing for a mass crossing.”

“They aren’t stupid. The cartels won’t cross tonight.” Sergio’s voice caught. “Thirteen people murdered. One police officer in critical condition. It’s territory and drug routes. Always what it comes to.”

Josie listened in silence as Sergio went on, listing one horrible act after another. She stared down at the river and wondered how long before the chaos spilled over the banks and into the U.S.

After Sergio calmed somewhat, Josie called Otto, dialing his cell phone to keep the radio frequency clear. “Where are you?” she asked.

“Intersection of River Road and Scratchgravel.”

“Any noise?”

“Nothing. It’s too quiet now.”

“Everything’s shut down,” she said. She raised her binoculars again and scanned the city, almost deserted at an hour when third-shift and first-shift workers should have been passing in the streets. An underground system of communication, neighbor to neighbor, spread information throughout the city when trouble started. Lights went out; windows and doors shut. Piedra Labrada went into lockdown.

The radio on Josie’s belt hissed. Lou Hagerty said, “Forty-two twenty-two, location check.”

“Rio watchtower,” Josie replied.

“Mayor Moss requests all units to the Trauma Center, stat.”

*

Josie hooked her backpack over her arms and took the wooden stairs that zigzagged down the fifty-foot descent as quickly as she could. Lou had not been provided any details, and Josie dreaded to find out what lay ahead. She shoved her department-issued jeep into four-wheel drive and sped toward the center of town via a dried-up arroyo that also served as a county road. The smell of baked earth and desert scrub blew in through her open window.

The radio forecaster said the overcast sky held no hope for rain and little chance of lowering the record-breaking temperatures. Looking in her rearview mirror Josie noticed the wall of dust she stirred up, and ran her tongue across her lips, tasting the layer of fine sand that coated her skin. The heat had the locals wishing for the monsoon season, but it would be dangerous when it hit. The ground was so hard and dry, the water would wash down arroyos like this one to the Rio, flooding everything in its path.

*

The Artemis Trauma Center was located south of the center of town, near a neighborhood of small cinder block homes. As she pulled up, Josie saw the mayor’s white pickup truck enter the empty lot, dingy under the charcoal-colored sky. He parked in front of the center’s entryway, climbed out of the truck, and approached Josie like a drill sergeant. He was a short stocky man with an underbite like a bulldog’s.