Wrecked (Josie Gray Mysteries #3)(31)



“Then the nine-million-dollar ransom doesn’t make sense,” Omstead said. “Obviously the Medrano cartel knows personal things about you. They would know that you don’t have access to that kind of money. They wouldn’t set a nine-million-dollar ransom without good reason. If it’s unattainable, you won’t pay up. You can’t—so you give up the fight. That’s the last thing they want. It wastes their time and resources.”

Both agents stared at Josie as if she ought to have some answer. As if she were protecting some rich family member from view. It struck her suddenly—This is what it feels like. To be innocent on every level, but to be made to feel like a criminal at your very core. She stared back at them both silently.

Haskins, the younger of the two agents, finally broke the tension by asking to see the phone the kidnappers had left. Josie showed him the messages while Omstead went out to the car and brought back a large plastic case. Josie took the agents into the dining room, where Omstead unpacked an assortment of recording devices and cords. He explained that they were setting up a wireless mobile phone recording device that would allow them to record all incoming and outgoing calls from the phone and would transmit them wirelessly to the FBI.

When they had finished, Haskins said, “Okay. Let’s break this up for the night. Agent Omstead and I have a great deal of information to start working with in the morning. I’ll be your primary contact. You’ll be keeping the phone left by the kidnappers. Keep it with you at all times. If you are contacted, call me immediately afterwards.” He passed Josie a business card. “Any new information, any contact from the kidnappers, anything you can think of, you call my direct number.”

“We’ll be in touch tomorrow,” Haskins continued. “We need to get this information into the system and start pulling together intelligence. We have an agent in Mexico we’ll contact for information as well.”

Josie suddenly felt panicked. They hadn’t even discussed the ransom demands and they were getting up to leave. “They disabled my security system, broke into my home, left me pictures of Dillon with a bag over his head. They said that Dillon will lose an arm tomorrow if I don’t come up with fifty thousand dollars. Every minute puts me closer to five o’clock, and we haven’t even discussed a plan! What the hell am I supposed to do?”

Agent Omstead broke in. “Don’t do anything. We’ve got an extensive database we’ll be tapping into. We’ll narrow by geography, by ransom, by every factor we can deduce. If you think of anything else tonight, call us. We’ll make use of it. For now, we need to get to work. Sit tight and we’ll update you as soon as we can.”

“We appreciate your cooperation,” Haskins said. He stood, but made no move toward the door. He looked at Otto, then Josie, his gaze sincere, but Josie felt like he was just saying that to mollify her. “Chief Gray, when we’re asked into an investigation we’re often met with reluctance, with the worry that we’re coming in to take over, to close you out. That is not our intent. We’re here to work as partners. We just need time to get things rolling on our end.”

*

After they left, Josie and Otto stood at her living room window and watched the sedan drive down the road. “Think that was legitimate? Wanting to partner with us?” Josie asked.

Otto turned toward her, ignoring her question. “Why don’t you pack a bag? Stay with us tonight? We’ve got a spare bed.”

Josie smiled. “You’re a good friend, Otto. I already called Dell and told him that Chester and I would crash on his couch tonight.”

He raised a hand and walked to the front door. “That’s good. Just didn’t want you here with no lock on that back door.” Before he stepped out, he turned to her again. “You want to pack a bag and I’ll wait on you? I can drive you and the hound dog up to Dell’s place.”

Josie gestured at the door. “I’m fine. Go home and get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”

*

Josie changed into sweatpants and a large Just Do It Nike T-shirt that belonged to Dillon, one of several favorite items that had been mixed in with her laundry and made their way into her own drawer. She brushed her teeth and washed her face, then slipped into her boots and barn coat to shield her from the cold night air. She grabbed her bed pillow, cell phone, the Beretta and both magazines from her gun belt, and then she and Chester started the quarter-mile walk down the lane to Dell’s cabin. She wasn’t too worried about her safety walking down the lane; whoever had kidnapped Dillon wanted her money at this point, not her life.

As they walked, the cold air felt good against Josie’s face, and she forced her mind to settle and let the sound of the wind whistling through the cedar trees hush her thoughts. The deep porch on the front of Dell’s cedar-planked house soon came into view. Walking there at night it looked more like a sprawling ranch house than a cabin, but inside it was a one-bedroom home with a large living room, modest-sized kitchen, and dining area. The cabin had high ceilings with exposed beams and rafters. A stone fireplace dominated one end of the cabin with a hearth that stretched across the end of the room as bench seating. By day, large windows on either side of the fireplace offered a beautiful view of Dell’s Hereford cattle grazing in the foothills of the Chinati Mountains.

She breathed in the sweet smell of the wood smoke drifting down the valley, and smiled to see the soft light from a reading lamp that lit up the back bedroom of Dell’s cabin. She was certain he would be up reading with the door closed to give her privacy but waiting on her in case she needed anything.

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