The Territory (Josie Gray Mysteries #1)(88)
“They’re roosters.”
“Lou! I don’t know anything about chickens or roosters. Where would I put them?”
“I already called Dell. He said he’d make you a chicken coop.” Lou bent down again and put her finger through the cage to ruffle a feather. “Pretty, aren’t they?”
Josie sighed and bent down. They were beautiful animals. The fluffed-up feathers were a deep rusty color that reminded her of the streaks of red that ran through the mountains behind her house. Both of them strutted around their cages, sticking their necks out, needing a spot to roam. Lou and Josie stood and loaded the cages into her jeep.
Lou pointed to its back end, now riddled with bullet holes from the trip down the arroyo. “When you going to get your car fixed?” Lou asked.
“Let’s just get through one day at a time.”
NINETEEN
Over the next two weeks, Artemis returned to a nervous calm. The Medrano and La Bestia cartels were silent—on her side of the border, at least. Josie tried to keep visions of the Bishop out of her head, but like Moss, she was still looking for a way to plug the holes. She figured they would just find another route eventually, but she hoped that route wouldn’t include Artemis.
Josie, Martínez, and the mayor agreed to meet each week for a planning session in the mayor’s office. It was a concession of sorts for all involved. Josie knew communication had to improve, and they all needed to be working from the same set of plans. As with so many things, only time would tell.
Hack Bloster still hadn’t entered a plea. Sheriff Martínez thought Bloster would most likely take it to trial and attempt to lay most of the blame on Red. It was too early to tell what the commissioners planned to do with the sheriff, although community sentiment seemed to be siding with Martínez.
*
On Friday afternoon, Dillon called Josie at work and offered to grill steaks if she would start the charcoal. She agreed, and managed to leave work on time so that they were able to watch the sun set from her back patio. After a relaxing dinner, they settled into comfortable Adirondack chairs and eventually, inevitably, the conversation turned toward the violence on the border.
Josie said, “I keep thinking, why us? Why Artemis?”
Dillon stretched his long legs out in front of him and turned to Josie. “Quit looking at this as a personal issue. This isn’t about Artemis, or you or the community. It’s about evil people abusing the system.”
Josie felt a twinge of guilt. Dillon had discussed several versions of the question with her several times over the past two weeks, but until she could satisfactorily answer the question, she would find no peace.
“How do you not take it personally when two major drug cartels choose your town as their route into the U.S.?” she asked. “Why here?”
“They want an inroad. Why anywhere? Geographically, we make sense. Medrano tried and made some headway with Bloster and Red. They find the weakest link, and they break through the fence.”
Josie bit her lip, her face flushing. “And Medrano approached me.”
Dillon reached over and ran a finger down her cheek. “And what happened when he approached you? How did that work out for him?” He watched her concede with a half smile.
After supper, Josie and Dillon followed the hound dog into the back pasture and up into the foothills. Chester took off on a scent and was soon a half mile ahead of them. The setting sun cast a red glow across the face of the mountain and softened its rough fa?ade. Following the fence line toward the base of the mountain, Josie pointed up into the sky as a shadow passed over them. Two birds swirled overhead, checking for prey or predator below, before floating gracefully down to land on the wooden fence just ten feet to their right. Josie and Dillon both froze, afraid to move and disturb the birds. They were a pair of endangered aplomado falcons, who Dell had told her were nesting somewhere on the ranch.
The male, with a slate-colored back and creamy orange chest, turned its face toward them. Black stripes swept back from his eyes, the fierce warrior paint of one who had survived against great odds. Josie felt her heart beating hard in her chest, and reached for Dillon’s hand at her side.