The Territory (Josie Gray Mysteries #1)(63)
Josie had set her cell phone’s alarm clock for five in the morning to give her time to get home and shower before her morning shift. Warden Escobedo had promised to call when something broke loose at the jail, but she wasn’t sure how much longer she could wait before placing the call herself. He had said he wanted the transport ready by 8 P.M., another hour. She felt the heavy thump of her heart pressing against her chest.
After she and Dell finished dinner and laid out their bedrolls on cots in the lookout room, they settled back into their chairs on the observation deck to watch for movement along the Rio to the south. Josie filled Dell in on the current drama, including the threat by Medrano to blow her house up if she didn’t release the prisoners by tonight at midnight, and the probable gun connection with Red, Bloster, and the Gunners.
“It’s guys like Bloster and Red you have to keep an eye on. Any man that has to join a club to protect his house or prove his manhood is a weak imitation. I don’t need a club to keep people off my land.”
“Who do you think killed Red?” Josie asked.
“That’s just the problem. Those gun nuts get so paranoid, they think the whole world is out to get them, when in reality, ninety-nine percent of us couldn’t give a rat hole less what they do in their little meetings. In the end, usually turns out to be one of their own that punches their clock, leaving the rest of us shaking our heads.”
Dell had turned his chair to face north and was sighting down the barrel of his shotgun toward Josie’s house. He tapped her on the thigh with the gun barrel to make a point he had made a hundred times.
“A man loses his common sense, his ability to think rationally, he loses his ability to survive. And, what’s the number one rule of the desert?” he asked.
“Survival of the fittest.”
“That’s why the good guys will always have the advantage.”
THIRTEEN
Pegasus Winning stood in the stockroom in the back of Value Gas, sneaking a cigarette. She was the only employee on duty, and the store and lot were currently empty. From her vantage point, looking out the square window in the stockroom door, she had a clear shot to the front entrance. It wasn’t even eight o’clock, and she didn’t get off until two in the morning. She was bored out of her mind and had already restocked the chips, her only chore for the night, outside of running the register and locking up. Sundays were torture.
She had time to finish two cigarettes before she heard the buzz of the front door and saw her brother lope inside. He scoped out the aisles and walked the perimeter of the store, looking for either Pegasus or trouble, probably both.
“Hey,” she called, stubbing out her cigarette on the stockroom floor.
“You here by yourself?” he asked.
She nodded and walked to the front of the store to stand behind the register. He followed and threw a bag of cookies and a pack of gum on the counter. She thought he looked tense.
“I’m taking off soon. I’ll try and stop by tomorrow. Just in case, though, I wanted to let you know. Tell you to watch your back. Be safe. Remember to knock the safety off if you have to use it.” He smiled, a half grin, and chucked her on the chin. “Be careful, sis.”
She didn’t speak. She could not force the words out, so she just smiled and nodded her head at his back as he turned from her. He didn’t do good-byes, and his effort to see her now made her nervous. She usually found out he was leaving through a note or phone call after the fact. She watched his car pull out of the lot, and the loneliness felt like a thousand pinpricks through her heart.
The tears had just begun to roll when a sheriff’s deputy walked into the store. He glanced at her and then gave her a second look as if assessing the situation. She wiped her tears off with the backs of her hands and sniffed to stifle the flow. The cop walked quickly around the store, as if he wanted something specific but couldn’t find it. He didn’t bother to ask questions, and she didn’t offer to help. He finally grabbed a Mountain Dew and set it on the counter.
He pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and stared down as if he couldn’t believe what he saw. “Son of a bitch.”
“No money?” she asked.
“What a day.”
“What a life,” she said.
He shook his head and smirked as if understanding completely.
“Just take it,” she said. “Pay me back another day.”
He started to protest, but she scooted the Mountain Dew across the counter toward him. “You’re good for it, right?”
*
Hack Bloster sat in his squad car and twisted the plastic cap. He stared at the girl behind the counter through the window. He had almost refused a dollar-and-fifty-cent soft drink because it felt too much like stealing, yet he was headed to work to break four murderers out of jail in exchange for money. What had happened to him? He stared at the girl, remembering the tears running down her face when he walked into the gas station, and he wondered if it was too late to change things.
*
Warden Escobedo had called Sheriff Martínez and filled him in on the setup at his jail. Josie had been right about Martínez: he needed to know what was happening at his jail, not because of misguided interoffice courtesy, but because he could make an off-duty stop at the jail and blow the entire operation wide open. At this point, if Martínez did anything to sabotage the operation, he effectively implicated himself as well as Bloster. Martínez was instructed to remain at home and talk to no one until he received further notice. Escobedo knew the sheriff was furious at being ordered to stay away from his own jail, but he was respectful and agreed to the terms.