The Territory (Josie Gray Mysteries #1)(67)

The driver called Bloster to the front of the van, where the man once again presented the briefcase. Bloster nodded, took the case, and walked toward his patrol car in the back of the employee parking lot, trying to keep from running.

As he reached his car, two men in navy suits exited a dark gray Crown Victoria parked three cars away from his patrol car.

The taller man stopped walking and pointed a gun directly at him. “I’m Detective Marcus Hammond with the Federal Bureau of Investigation. This is my partner, Bill Smithers. You are under arrest. Set the case on the ground and raise both hands in the air.”

The shorter of the two men wore a grim expression and continued toward Bloster with his badge held up for Bloster to inspect. Bloster saw the driver of the van standing in the parking lot, taking pictures.

Bloster looked back at the agent.

“Put the case on the ground and raise your hands in the air. Now!”

His hands were numb, his body in shock. He slowly sat the case down beside him. What he had taken for luck was a setup by the feds. He noticed several National Guardsmen across the street watching his arrest and feared he might vomit.

The shorter agent took the case and walked away while the taller man cuffed Bloster and turned him around toward the van. The agent read the list of crimes he was being charged with and mirandized him as he watched the driver enter the van with the prisoners and drive off. Bloster realized he had just prepared an actual transport for the feds. That was why it had looked legitimate. Because it was.

*

Josie was driving sixty miles per hour in the dark with her lights off on a road that was paved but pockmarked and washed out down to gravel in some areas. She was three miles from the courthouse in Artemis when Escobedo reached her on his cell phone and said he had just pulled out from the jail.

“The four cars are probably five minutes from you. They have to have a lookout posted next to the jail, watching for the transport van,” she said.

“I just hope it wasn’t someone in the sheriff’s department.”

Josie blew air out in frustration. She thought he was wrong about Sheriff Martínez being involved.

“I think we need the sheriff’s men out here. We can’t handle four cars,” Josie said.

“Absolutely not. There’s too many unknowns with him. You’ve got DPS and Border Patrol on their way. Correct?”

“I’m afraid they won’t make it in time. If you stay on River Road, you’re about thirty minutes from Highway 67. We need to get these cars stopped before we reach the highway. Are you familiar with the Arroyo Pass?”

“I’ve taken it a few times,” he said.

“You think your van could make it?”

The Arroyo Pass was a dry gully that could flow like the Nile during heavy rains and flash flooding. It led from River Road in Artemis to Highway 67, and cut off about ten minutes of drive time. The dirt road was no problem for the locals, but it was rough without four-wheel drive, and the blowing dust would make it harder to navigate at night.

“I don’t know. These vans are about worthless on anything but paved road.”

“The arroyo has quite a bit of rock in the bottom of it,” Josie said. “I think you’d be okay. And it might throw the Mexicans off your trail.”

“Might be worth the risk,” he said, his tone doubtful.

“We’d be isolated if things turn bad. If you made it all the way to the highway before Medrano’s men caught up to you, we’d be home free,” Josie said.

“I can make it. Get dispatch to set up a roadblock before we reach 67. Call Presidio PD and see if they can send officers. We need every car they can find. I’ve got only one deputy with me in the back with the prisoners. Any idea how many people are in the cars?” he asked.

“I can’t tell. I’m about a half mile from them. When we drive through Artemis, I’ll catch up and scope them out under the streetlights in town.”

She shut her cell phone and gave Dell the phone number to the police station.

“Call Lou and have her tell Otto and Marta we need them at the Arroyo immediately.”

Josie called Don Steele, the Presidio chief of police. He said he had one car already on 67. He promised two more units within ten minutes. Lou, over at dispatch, signaled Josie on her portable radio and said DPS and Border Patrol were en route to destination, but she couldn’t tell Josie how many cars or how soon.

River Road passed through the center of Artemis, directly past the jail, and connected with the Arroyo two miles out. Escobedo called and said he had turned off, and the dust and wind were causing poor visibility. He was worried about staying on the road.

Josie pulled behind the four vehicles at the lone red light in downtown Artemis. Under the streetlights, she discovered each of the cars appeared to carry at least four men.

She told Escobedo, “We’re talking at least sixteen men, most likely armed, coming up against three officers,” she said.

“I hope we didn’t make a mistake coming down this pass. I’ll check back in. I need to focus on the road. The wind is really picking up.” Escobedo, clearly unnerved, disconnected again.

Dell unzipped the duffel bag on his lap. “Count me in as a fourth, Josie.”

“You can’t use those guns. You’ll end up in jail over a fight that’s not yours. Just stay in the car and cover me if things go wrong.”