The Territory (Josie Gray Mysteries #1)(3)
“An ER surgeon from El Paso is on his way. He was already on call in Marfa, so he should be here within a half hour. Two scrub nurses should be here any minute. They’ll start setting up for surgery.” Moss’s voice was clipped and too loud for the silent parking lot.
“What’s going on?” Josie felt her face flush in irritation.
He pointed toward the door. “Let’s get inside. We shouldn’t be out here.”
Josie grabbed his shoulder as he turned from her. “Has someone been shot?”
He glared at her and turned back toward the building, forcing Josie to follow behind him.
*
The Trauma Center was a one-story brick rectangle with a glass front door and green awning above it. The building housed the town’s Health Department and a one-room surgical unit that had been paid for with a Homeland Security grant the previous year. Artemis supported one family doctor and now a trauma unit, thanks to the drug cartels pushing north.
Using a key from a silver ring with at least a hundred other labeled keys, Moss unlocked the door and pushed it open, flipping on the entry lights to the left of the door, obviously familiar with the building. For the past ten years, he had micromanaged every agency in town, down to the bid orders for paper towels and toilet paper. He ran Artemis like a city manager, at times using authority he did not officially have. Moss and the city council appointed the chief of police, and he had the authority to fire Josie: a fact Moss was not above reminding her. Running unopposed gave him the type of unchallenged power that Josie worried was not in the best interest of the city.
Moss turned on a second set of lights, and fluorescent bulbs lit up the white waiting room, revealing two rows of blue plastic chairs linked together by a metal rail. Low coffee tables on either side of the chairs were littered with various tattered magazines. The room smelled of bleach and Pine-Sol.
Josie pointed ahead to a dimly lit hallway where they could talk in a more protected space, away from the glass entryway and two windows in the waiting room.
Moss leaned against the wall in the hallway and rubbed the stubble on his face. Usually impeccably dressed, he wore a wrinkled shirt that looked as if he had picked it off the floor on the way out of his house.
“I got a call from the Federales. The Medrano ranch is under attack. Five to eight gunmen from La Bestia went there after the gunfight in Piedra. They shot three front men for Medrano, as well as the old man himself. He’s in critical condition.” He paused, looked away from her. “The ambulance is headed our way.”
Josie leaned her head against the wall. She had been warned it would happen eventually. “Wasn’t he shot in Piedra Labrada?” she asked.
Moss nodded. “I had no choice. He’s got dual citizenship. The Federales said La Bestia already has men surrounding the hospital in Ojinaga. There’s not a hospital in Mexico safe enough to take him. The Federales are certain La Bestia’s set to finish the job.”
“So we let them finish the job here? Let our doctors and nurses be killed?” She stopped and forced herself to slow down, lower her voice. “Do you have any idea how many innocent people that man has killed in Mexico?”
Moss took a step forward and pointed a finger toward her chest. “He owns a cattle ranch in West Texas the size of our town! Until our suspicions are confirmed, we treat this man like the U.S. citizen he is. We offer him protection and medical care like we do any other citizen.”
Josie laughed in disbelief. “I can’t cross the border to help a fellow law officer, but we allow criminals to cross the border for medical care? How screwed up is that?”
“You don’t like the rules? Write your congressman.”
Josie bit back a sarcastic barb. “I’ve called Border Patrol and Department of Public Safety for assistance countless times tonight. They’re swamped. We’ll get no help here. Have you called the sheriff yet for backup?”
“I got the call from Mexico and called dispatch. I called our Trauma Center team leader to round up the ER staff and drove here,” Moss said.
“Call the sheriff. Tell him we need every man he can find to surround this building.” Josie paused and listened as she heard an ambulance siren approaching the center’s side entrance. “Otto’s en route. I’ll have him start setting up the perimeter for backup. I’ll work with the surgical team. You have any contacts you can tap for extra help?”
The mayor flipped open his cell phone to begin making calls while Josie met the ambulance.
The two attendants opened the back door of the ambulance and unloaded Hector Medrano, founder of the Medrano cartel. His chest and abdomen were shredded, and blood leaked through the bandages. His large square face was also bloodied and smeared with black dirt. He was as large in life as he appeared in the frequent newspaper and Internet articles that featured his crime sprees. Josie noticed the two Mexican attendants keeping a wary eye on the unconscious patient, stepping back from the gurney as soon as it was rolled into the operating room. Even with his approaching death, Josie could feel the evil that surrounded the man.
Within minutes, the two ER nurses had arrived. Vie Blessings parked and got out of her car, talking on a cell phone, already dressed in blue scrubs. She was a busty forty-year-old woman with spiked hair and vibrant makeup and jewelry. She commanded attention and got it. A younger nurse whom Josie didn’t recognize got out of the passenger seat of the car; she looked pale and terrified and stayed behind Vie’s back.