The Territory (Josie Gray Mysteries #1)(28)

“Gladys buys this stuff from the Andes. We could feed a family of four on what she spends for coffee. But it’s damn good.”

Josie sipped and admired it, although she thought it tasted burnt.

“What brings you to the hinterlands so early in the morning?”

“I’m sure you’ve heard about Red Goff?”

“That I have.”

“I’m hoping for a little perspective on Red. Everyone we’ve interviewed hated the man. I haven’t found anyone upset by his murder. Makes it a little hard to narrow the focus.”

Drench squinted and looked out a wall of plate glass into the smoky sky. “Red and I go way back. He was friends with my brother, Samuel. We all went to the same grade school and high school, but he and Sam were three years older. I took off to make my fortune in Houston, and Red stayed back. He’s seen some terrible things. Red’s daddy was gunned down and killed by Mexican coyotes sneaking a group of illegals across. They’d stopped at his farm to camp for the night and use water from the stock pond. Red’s dad confronted them, tried to run them off, and they killed him. Red never got over it.”

Josie shook her head. “He never saw guns as a danger. Even though his own father was killed with a gun.”

Drench raised his right hand as if swearing on a Bible. “No, ma’am. Guns don’t kill. People do. Red’s doctrine.”

Drench pulled a barstool out for Josie and she sat. He sat on the stool beside her and sipped at his coffee.

“Red started working as a field hand the year his daddy died, and he worked hard physical labor every year after. He blamed the illegals for his family’s tough life. And he blamed the government for doing nothing about the problem. Police, too. Growing up, his three sisters relied on him as a father figure. His mother died from a heart attack just after his daddy.”

“No family money that you know of? No inheritance or insurance from way back to support him?” Josie asked.

“Red married an acid-tongued barmaid when he was in his thirties to help him with the farm, but she took off on him. That was Colt’s mom. Red didn’t have a plug nickel.” Drench frowned, his gaze fixed on the desert beyond his home. “He raised his daughter in a house filled with hate. I worry about that girl quite a bit.”

“So, how does a man with no money have an arsenal of several hundred guns and bulletproof glass?” she asked.

Drench leaned on an elbow and gave Josie a half smile. “I wondered that myself. None of those yahoos he ran around with has that kind of money. Bunch of men with overactive testosterone production, if you ask me. I don’t know where Red got his money, but I’d imagine whoever took off with that batch of guns knows something about his murder.”

“I understand you own the land in front of Red’s. Is that true?”

Drench smiled. “That pissed Red off to no end.”

“He ever try and buy it from you?”

He laughed. “Offered me five times what that land was worth. I wouldn’t take it. He was a fun one to get mad. I never once saw him raise a hand, but he sure could cuss a blue streak. Gladys always said he had the Napoleon complex. I just think life slapped his chops one too many times.”

“Do you rent out the trailer at the bottom of the property?” Josie asked.

“Yep. Kenny Winning. Although his sister’s living there now. He’s a nice-enough kid.”

“Think Kenny had any reason to kill Red? His sister said they hated each other,” Josie said.

Drench smiled again. “That was my fault. I gave that kid land to set his trailer on just to tick Red off. Kenny worked for me for a while doing odd jobs. Handyman stuff. He was a good kid, honest, dependable, but real skittish. Never stayed in one place too long, like he was being chased.” He pointed a finger at Josie. “Come to think of it, that kid was dating Colt for a while. Red’s daughter.”

“How long did they date?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. It wasn’t anything serious. Couple months, maybe.”

“Think he’d have had any reason to kill Red?”

Drench bit his lip. “I can’t imagine it.”

“What do you know about Hack Bloster?”

Drench looked down at the bar and traced the wood grain with his finger. “This is between me and you?”

“Of course.”

“I think he’s a dirty cop. I had my eye on that kid ever since he moved to town. He worked for me, digging wells for about six months. I always had a hard time getting a straight answer out of him. I even told Red to steer clear of him. I told him he was insane for ever letting him join the Gunners. Red thought Bloster would give legitimacy to the group just because he’s a cop. A gun and a badge don’t make you legitimate.”

“You have anything concrete on Bloster? Anything to back up your suspicions?” she asked.

“Nothing but a bad feeling.”

*

Pegasus Winning sat on the picnic table under the pecan trees and stared at the tattoo on her forearm: a constant reminder of the man who had sliced her open and left her to bleed on the dirty linoleum floor in their kitchen. The tattoo had been done just a month before he sliced her, a blackbird with a ribbon dangling from its beak. The inscription on the ribbon read, Death do us part. The inscription was his idea, the crow hers.