The Territory (Josie Gray Mysteries #1)(39)
“Don’t be mad at him. I asked the questions. He just told the truth.”
“That would be Otto.”
“How long is your mom staying?”
She shrugged. “I talked with her all of two minutes.”
He stood, extended his arms out to her, and pulled her up to stand in front of him. “Let’s eat. Forget work. Tell me about your life the past six months. We’ll talk about Red and the Queen later.”
*
After he mixed up a batch of guacamole in the kitchen, Josie turned up the stereo to the best of Creedence Clearwater Revival and led Dillon to the back porch. She and her neighbor, Dell, had recently built a pergola out of local wood he had dried and cured in his barn. Four large posts supported eight-foot-long limbs that stretched across the frame to make a roof to shade the area from the harsh afternoon sun.
“This is nice,” he said, looking at the handiwork. “Dell build this?”
She nodded and rubbed her fingers along one of the smooth wood posts. “He’s proud of the roof. It’s hard to find a straight eight-foot length of wood out here that’s native.” She flipped a switch located by the sliding door, and a fine mist sprayed from a line that ran the length of the porch. The air cooled by ten degrees almost instantly.
Dillon sat the guacamole and chips on the redwood picnic table. “You’re moving up in the world.”
They ate side by side, facing several hundred acres of Dell’s ranch land that ran a gentle grade up into the Chimiso Mountains. Josie pointed out two red-tailed hawks, and Dillon smiled as one of them screeched, then swooped down to the ground, most likely for a field mouse. The muted browns and grays of the scrub that dominated West Texas spread across the land behind her home, but the mountains were streaked with red and copper that intensified with the setting sun, and the pasture had clumps of deep green pine and cedar trees fenced off from his cattle. It was the kind of land she had seen as a kid watching old John Wayne movies with her father, and the rough beauty still made her throat contract at unexpected times.
Through dinner, Dillon explained what he had learned about Red’s finances. Red made about forty-four thousand dollars per year as a heavy equipment operator. His expenses, purchases, as well as living expenses, debt, travel, and savings, were more in line with a man earning around eighty-five thousand per year.
“There’s no question that Red was selling guns, and that’s where his extra income was coming from. I counted fourteen invoices for what looked to be a wide variety of guns. Most of the transactions, though, were just referenced by a customer number. You need the file that cross-references the numbers with the customers.”
“None of the receipts had customer names?” she asked.
Dillon frowned. “I recognized two local names, but most of the invoices didn’t contain a name. I found one that had the city San Miguel de Allende written at the bottom of the paper. And there were three with Juárez noted on the back. There were only two invoices that raised a big red flag, though. Together, they total $3,846. Both transactions were during the month of August. And both had what appeared to be the guns’ serial number as well as another number that most likely identified the customer.”
“Where’s the red flag?”
Dillon stood and retrieved the box from the house. He put it on the picnic table and pulled out both receipts for Josie to examine.
Her eyes widened and she looked up from the paper. “This is written out to the Arroyo County Sheriff’s Department! Since when do they spend four thousand dollars on two guns? We can barely afford to pay utilities right now.”
Dillon sat back down at the table. “Isn’t your pal, Deputy Bloster, a member of Red’s gun club?”
Josie rubbed at her temples. “How could the sheriff let this happen? He signs off on all department expenses, just like I do, before they get approved by the council. He had to approve these invoices.”
“Don’t rush judgment. Go talk to the sheriff tomorrow. Just watch your back.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked.
He folded his hands and stared at her, apparently considering his words. “You have a solid reputation, and you’re well respected for the job you do.”
“But?”
“But you’re still a female in a male-dominated profession.”
“And?”
“And I know you’re friends with Martínez, but there’s still plenty of good old boy vibes running through this town. If things turn ugly, you aren’t in the club.”
She resisted the urge to defend Martínez. He was a fellow cop, a person she had admired and trusted, sought counsel from in her role as chief, and she didn’t want to believe he would sacrifice her over a piece of scum like Bloster. But she nodded agreement and let the statement go until she could think through the information later in silence.
Josie stood and began cleaning up. “Based on everything you saw, and knowing Red’s history, give me your theory on what happened to him,” Josie said.
“I need to get into his files a little deeper before—”
She cut him off. “Gut instinct. What do you think happened?”
He steepled his fingers and rested them against his lips as he put together his thoughts. Watching him, Josie realized how important his reactions were to her.