The Territory (Josie Gray Mysteries #1)(57)

“Don’t play games with me. I’m too tired. You know that’s not what I meant. But this has nothing to do with you and me. This is my job. It’s what I get paid to do. I didn’t sign a clause in my contract that said if things got dangerous, I could just take off. If you are afraid, then leave. I completely understand it,” she said.

He leaned back angrily. “I’m not afraid for me. The woman who I—” He paused and seemed to mentally slow down. “—the woman who I care deeply about just lay in bed and negotiated with terrorists as they shot holes in her walls. You think I should just blow this off? Just another day at the office for Josie?”

“Don’t be sarcastic,” she said.

“You are not trained for this kind of work. I know, I have heard, you are a great cop. Outstanding, even. But what you are dealing with is beyond cop work. It’s warfare, and it’s beyond your skill set!”

“My skill set?” She squinted at him in disbelief. “Could you be a little more insulting? You don’t know what kind of training I received. You don’t know what experiences I’ve dealt with to prepare for my job.”

“And exactly how do they train you for men standing at the end of your bed with guns?”

She said nothing.

“What happens tonight when the Medrano clan finds out that you didn’t release their prisoners like you promised? You think they won’t come back and blow this house to kingdom come? You’ve dodged the bullet.” He stopped speaking. He looked as if he wanted to say more but thought better of it.

“I’m going to see this through,” Josie said. “I will not give in to these men. Look what’s happened in Mexico. The government, the police force, the good people in the country have lain down and let the cartels take over. The psychopaths are running the show. I refuse to do that here. I’d like to have your support. It means more to me than you know.”

He stared at her for a long moment before speaking. “I can’t do this. I can’t go to bed each night wondering if you’ll make it home alive the next day. I want a family someday. Kids.”

Josie said nothing.

Dillon stood and went outside on the front porch to wait for the police.

After Dillon was interviewed and told he could leave, Josie spent the next six hours of her Saturday with DPS and Border Patrol. The house was photographed by crime scene technicians who pored over the inside and outside, taking prints and casts. She went to the office and worked with a sketch artist for almost an hour and was pleased with the renditions. Later, Jimmy from BP showed up at the department with a boxed chicken dinner for her from the gas station. They sat together to look at pictures from the Mexican foreign nationals file. Not surprising to anyone, they got a preliminary ID on the suspect with the bandanna and earring as an infantryman for Medrano. Jimmy pulled up the man’s Alien File in the DACS system and found he had been deported twice, was suspected in an armed robbery in Houston, and was wanted for a series of murders in Juárez, Mexico. Josie declined Jimmy’s offer to stay at his home until things stabilized. He’d asked her out to dinner on several occasions, and she always made up an excuse. She didn’t need more complications in her life at the moment, but she did agree to stay at a motel until the prisoners were transferred out of Artemis.

At seven o’clock, Josie called Moss to ask if the request to transfer prisoners had been granted by the federal penitentiary. He said he had been in contact with the warden, and they were working on a Monday-morning transfer.

“Monday? The feds don’t work on the weekend? Medrano made it pretty clear today in my home that they aren’t messing around. If those prisoners aren’t moved by tomorrow evening, are you prepared for what’s coming?”

“Do you know what makes a great man? Perseverance and determination. The willingness to tackle the problems no one else is willing to consider,” Moss said, his tone pious. “Do you think this isn’t weighing on my chest every minute of the day?”

“That’s it, then?”

“I’m working to move the transport time up. If and when that happens, I’ll let you know.” He paused a moment, and his voice softened. “I’m sorry about your house. What happened to you is terrible, and I’ll do what I can to make things right.”

Josie heard the words but realized she was too numb to make sense of them. Usually suspect of everything he said, she was too tired to dig deeper for meaning. She thanked him, hung up, and left word with the dispatcher that she would be staying at Manny’s for the night before returning home in the morning. She walked down the block and around the courthouse to the motel. Through the plate glass window, she saw Manny sitting in his recliner under the yellow glow of his reading lamp. Cigarette smoke filtered up through the light, and his attention was riveted on the book in his lap. He looked over his glasses at her when she stepped inside the door, and he stood and approached the counter. The wringing of his hands and his worry lines reminded her of Tevye from Fiddler on the Roof. She half expected him to break out into song.

“How are you getting along? I’ve listened to the radio all day long for updates. Have you caught the bastards?”

Josie glanced at the radio sitting on the counter and heard the soft classical music from the local public radio station.

“I’m doing okay. We have three new guests at the Arroyo County Jail. The feds have taken over now. They’ll hopefully be moved quickly.”